Page 68 of Any Means Necessary

“Thank you, Walter,” I say, without accepting the garment bag. We came for more than just my suit. “Just leave it up front for me.”

“Would you like to try it on?” He asks me this question every time, and my answer remains the same with each visit.

“No need, I’m sure your work is as impeccable as ever.” Walter’s measurements are unmatched, his ability to custom fit a suit with only one consultation is impressive even by my standards. Finding suits that fit properly as a man my size is practically impossible without several rounds of tailoring, and Walter’s attention to detail is what makes for the perfect fit.

“Is there something else I can help you with?” Walter’s eyebrows raise. He’s got a good poker face with the practiced amiable smile of a salesman. But I can see the surprise on his face, this isn’t protocol for me—I’m usually in and out, taking as little time to run this errand as possible. But not today.

“We’re going to do some shopping,” I say. Walter’s eyes light with understanding when his focus moves to where Lexie stands admiring the silk tie selection, clearly not paying attention to our conversation. His gaze cuts to me briefly in curiosity, far too professional to say what’s on his mind, and written all over his face. I’ve never brought anyone with me on my many trips to see him before, even after all these years. So who is she? Feeling our eyes, Lexie turns to look between us expectantly.

“Lexie, this is Walter. He makes the best suits in the country.”

“Nice to meet you, Walter.” The smile Lexie offers is full of her usual warmth.

“The pleasure is mine, Miss.” Walter smiles back politely, his eyes scanning Lexie thoughtfully. The way he’s looking at her body, taking in every inch intently, would make me want to snap anyone else’s neck. Fortunately for him, I know exactly what Walter’s really looking at—it’s one of the reasons I come to him, why I brought her here. He’s looking at her proportions, measurement, and body type. His gaze is analytical, calculating in inches and centimeters.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with,” Walter says, nodding before turning to bring my suit back to the checkout counter. Lexie follows me away from the men’s clothes to the women’s section. Rows and rows of designer dresses, skirts, and tops. Lexie’s eyes never stop moving, fascinated at the array of pretty things surrounding her. But her focus never lands on anything in particular, missing the point of why I brought her here. Stepping behind her, the light scent of her perfume wafts towards me when I lean closer.

She always smells so good.

“Take a look around.”

“For what?” She doesn’t get it, something I wasn’t expecting. For someone who loves all things pretty and girly, she seems to be having a hard time grasping a simple concept like shopping. For some reason, it never even occurred to Lexie that we’re here to find something for her.

“We’re going to a party, you need a dress.” The statement is simple, but she frowns at me.

“A place like this won’t have my size. I can just wear one of the dresses I already have.” She’s so certain. I guess that explains her lack of interest—she never expected to walk out of here with something that fits her deliciously full body. She’s wrong.

“Take a look around, Dewdrop,” I repeat.

“What size are we looking for?” Walter asks brightly as he approaches.

“I’m usually an 18/20 or a 2XL, sometimes bigger. Way too big for these brands,” she says, sifting through the hangers of a rack and letting her hand fall in defeat. Her eyes look around, but I can tell that each dress she looks at she’s not really seeing. She’s given up before even trying, just assuming I would take her somewhere she can’t shop. It makes me angry.

Little does she know, I chose this place because I know they can provide just what she needs.

“I’ll pull a few options for you,” Walter says, excusing himself. Lexie watches him go, her usual enthusiasm missing.

“I’m too big. Nothing here is going to fit me, nothing ever really fits me,” she grumbles, toying with a dress as she walks by a display. “Fat bodies don’t work for designer and high fashion. There’s really no point in trying. I mean, look at these rolls. They’re not gonna fit into anything sold here.”

Fed up, I grab her arm and pull her until my chest is pressed up against her back, my mouth to her ear. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll take you into the dressing room and show you exactly what fits with this beautiful body of yours.”

“Cal.” My name on her lips comes out breathless, sending pure lust rippling through me. It’s taking everything in me not to make good on my word and drag her into the fitting room.

“I always know exactly what you need, Dewdrop.” Her breath hitches in her chest. If I don’t step back right now, I’ll end up fucking her right here against the display window. “We’re not leaving here until you’ve tried on a dress. Stop putting yourself down and start looking. Really looking.”

When I back away Lexie acquiesces, even if it’s reluctantly. Her energy is still lacking, but at least now when she slides a hanger on a rack she’s actually looking at what’s hanging from it.

Going through a few of the racks, Lexie pulls out a light blue dress. Even just holding it up, I can tell the color would be perfect against her skin. The urge to see it on her hits me in the chest, making me insist that it’s the first dress to bring to the fitting room. Walter approaches with a rolling rack full of options in various styles, fabrics, and colors. I stand and watch as he holds up two dresses at a time for Lexie to approve or veto while he gets a sense of her taste. When they reach the last dress on the rack, there are multiple options selected for the dressing room to be tried on.

Even with a selection in her size, Lexie eyes the collection of garments with skepticism. Like she can’t allow herself to get her hopes up, despite her options. Each half smile cements my determination to provide for her, earn back the radiant smile she usually gives readily.

“Fitting rooms are right this way.” My hand on the small of Lexie’s back firmly leads her to follow Walter through the store to the luxury fitting area. The row of smaller rooms curtained off with heavy cream curtains looks out to a deluxe seating area with sofas, arm chairs and glasses with the option of champagne or wine.

Even in her gloom, Lexie’s focus latches onto each detail around her as she takes in every part of the first-class treatment I’ve grown accustomed to. Something I plan for her to grow accustomed to from today on.

“I’ll just leave these in here for you,” Walter says, hanging the haul carefully on the hooks in the largest of the dressing rooms. “Is there anything else I can bring you? Champagne, wine?” He stands diligently by the door, hands folded in front of him.

“Actually, do you have moun—” I cut off Lexie’s request for mountain dew before she has a chance to finish the thought, speaking over her instead.

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