‘Yup.’ I’m half listening. I’m standing in my underwear and she’s only a couple of metres away behind the door. How am I supposed to not be turned on by this? I will her to stop yabbering about work and nudge the door open. It’s not like I can do it. If I do it, I’m a predatory exhibitionist; if she does it, it’s the sexiest thing since Ana de Armas.
I imagine her in the fitting room opposite. Slipping out of her tiny dress. Hairband tossed on the floor. Curls flirting with her titties. Peaked nipples bare in the mirror. My lips brushing the nape of her neck. I know what her skin tastes like. I know the sound she makes when I?—
‘All we need now is to sharpen your wardrobe,’ she says, and I snap out of that impossible dream. Imaginary Jules is much more agreeable. ‘Then we can schedule your feature interview with Minnie.’
I’ve got to shake it off. This shit’s important, and I can’t walk out there straining against my pants. I quickly put on the first outfit she chose and scowl at myself in the mirror.
‘Uh, Jules?’
‘What?’
‘I don’t think this is really me.’
‘Sure it is.’
‘I look like I’m going golfing.’
I open the door and her eyes don’t bug out like mine did.
Her smiles are unbelievably hard won so it’s fucking annoying that she thinks this is worthy. ‘You look perfect.’
‘Perfect?I look like Trey’s dad. I just need a combover and a belly full ofFritos, and I’m all set.’
She tuts. ‘Chinos don’t make you someone’s dad, Tiago. The word you’re looking for istailored.’
I examine myself in the mirror. ‘A button-down? Really?’
She gets off her pouffe. ‘Let’s check the fit.’
I freeze when her fingers brush the bottom of my neck, examining the collar. Her scent’s all-consuming. It’s fresh and musky, and completely intoxicating. I hold my breath.
She moves onto my waistband and I jolt. Whatever happened to consent? I go through the characters ofCafé Con Aroma de Mujer, my mom’s favourite telenovela from the nineties.It’s a blessing when she finally moves onto my feet.
‘The fit’s good,’ she decides, stepping back, and I can finally breathe again. ‘Next!’
‘I think you should try something on.’ I run my tongue over my bottom lip. ‘Fair’s fair.’
Not even her eyebrow moves as she settles her laptop back in place and starts furiously typing. Consider me ignored.
‘You’re not worried your followers will think you’re with me?’ I ask as we walk to our fourth store.
‘No, I’ve already shared that I’m doing brand work with a couple of drivers. I’ve taken some photos with Jack too.’
I don’t have time to reply as a group of teenage girls are sprinting toward us. I’m about to ask Jules if she can be cameraman again when they stop in front of her. I quickly mask my surprise – I don’t want to be a dick. In fact, I don’t know why I’m surprised, her Insta following’s at least double mine.
Her name comes out a mixture of‘Yools’and‘HOO-lehs’, and it has me jamming my lips together.
‘¡Ay, Dios mío, eres tú!Welovesyour videos!’
‘We adore your style.’
‘Te seguimos siempre.’
‘You’re even prettier in person,de verdad.’
Jules is a total charmer, super polite and warm – nothing like she is with me – and she doesn’t need my help at all. The girls barely notice me, and I don’t know how I feel about it. I mean,it’s kind of nice seeing her in the limelight. She’s so good at what she does, and it must feel lonely when your millions of fans live on your phone.
‘We loved your Monaco video,’ one girl gushes. ‘You and Tom havemucha química, eh?’
