Page 56 of Maid in America

“No! Don’t.” She leaned up and gave him a simple peck on the cheek.

Marcy’s eyes darted to the two of them, watching the interaction carefully. Finally, she whispered. “Oh. Ishewhy you were thirty minutes late today?”

Chastity’s smile vanished. “No. I told you. I had to talk to the super. I didn’t have any hot water. And trust me, after that party, I went to last night, a shower wasmandatory.”

Marcy nodded and wrote more things in her giant tome. “Alright. Mr. Andrews, right?”

“That’s correct. How did you know?”

“You’re the last one from your bridal party to be fitted. It was just process of elimination. Follow me. I’ll have you look through our catalog of ties and pocket squares while Chastity gets ready to take your measurements.”

He followed Marcy to a corner in the back, settling into a simple black leather armchair with a book the size ofWar and Peacein his lap. He flipped through endless pages of what seemed like the same necktie over and over with subtle differences he couldn’t see. He flipped past the bow ties completely to the pocket square section, starting with a horrendous vomit-green paisley one that made him want to gag.

He didn’t even know the colors of Will and Ava’s wedding, nor did he care.

“Can’t I just do a black pocket square?” He asked no one in particular. “Doesn’t black go with, like, everything?”

A few minutes later, Chastity stood by the door to the room in the back. “Mr. Andrews!” She beckoned him over with a finger.

He grinned.

The small room was fairly bare with white walls and bright, diffused tube lights in every corner, giving the medium-sized room a Heaven-type vibe. Barrett suddenly regretted leaving his sunglasses in the car.

A foot-tall white, wooden platform sat in the middle. A small changing room jutted out from one corner, its door open wide, unloved wedding gowns hanging on a hook inside. In front of the platform sat a row of stools and a wall of mirrors butted against each other like some kind of dance studio. In another corner, there was a beverage cart with an empty bottle of cheap champagne, an opened can of seltzer water, and several plastic drink flutes.

“Jesus, it’s so bright here. These on a dimmer at all?” He squinted while his eyes adjusted.

“Afraid not,” she smiled, shutting the door and pulling the measuring tape from around the back of her neck. “Can I have you stand on the platform for me, sir?”

“Oh, Jesus.” His eyes fluttered. “Girl, keep calling me ‘Sir,’and we are going to have a realproblemhere.”

She tried to hide her smile but failed miserably. “So you’ve taken to stalking now, huh?”

“What can I say? I just can’t get enough of you.” He touched her lip and let his finger trail down her chin, her neck, softly teasing the skin below her throat.

“Sir, I need you to strip down to your underwear so that I can get accurate measurements for your tux.”

“What if I’m not wearing any?” he asked, face dead-serious.

“I can see if Marcy has a pair of boxers out there for purchase.”

“Alright, you called my bluff.” He stripped out of his boot-cut jeans, revealing a pair of briefs in an American flag design. “I’m sure this is already going to cost a fortune. No sense piling on more expenses.”

Chastity toyed with her measuring tape.

“You know I’m living on amaid’ssalary, right?”

“Poor baby.” She grinned. “Though, I hear all the horny old broads in Jackson tip mighty fine if you give ’em a littleshowwhile you clean. Just food for thought.”

She winked, and Barrett thought his bare knees might buckle for a split second.

Chastity looked down at his underwear. “Mmmm. America the beautiful.”

Barrett smiled at the ceiling. “You’re already havingwaytoo much fun with this.”

“Sir, for the most accurate measurements, I’m gonna have to ask you to lose the shirt, too.”

“You’re getting a little pushy.” He looked down at the tape in her hands. “Just remember when you start measuring, not everything is going to be accurate. It’s chilly in here.”

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