“I don’t know what he looks like; I don’t even know what his voice sounds like.” I stood firmer, my hands curling into loose fists. “You expect me to give you my full cooperation, and yet you’re keeping me in the dark. Tell me, is that a business strategyyouwould go along with?”
It was an angle I should’ve brought up before, because I could see the realization sink in for him. No. Of course he wouldn’t. One didn’t need a bachelor’s in business to know it was a horrible way to manage a contract.
“A video call.” When he opened his mouth to object, I added, “You can be present for it. That doesn’t matter. I just… I want to see the face of who I’m marrying.”
My negotiation skills had come from him, our giving and taking like tugging on a rope. With my mother, she only knew how to pull. My father knew how to take a step forward, to give me an inch in order to gather his footing, because he knew it’d mean success later on when he was ready for the final, sharp tug. As I suspected, he acquiesced. “Fine, I will see about a video call. Just…pleasedon’t make me regret it, Margot.”
The win was a small one, but a win, nonetheless. Even though I knew my father would tug the rope down the line and throw my world into a remorselesstailspin, I allowed myself to bask in the victory of this small pull in my direction. “I won’t.”
There weren’t many clothing brands I put on my body.
Fashion was the one thing I let myself behave that way about. It was the one way I expressed myself, the emotions that I kept bottled up spilling out onto the fabric. Malstoni was an Italian designer brand that created absolutely darling event suits, the sleek cuts and fabric types perfect to match the showiness that the elitist crowd surrounding me put off. If I were to get married, I’d be in a Malstoni.
Gilfman, however—a French brand that only had three stores in the United States total—owned my heart and soul.
A soft knock on the dressing room came, followed by a pleasant male voice. “How is everything fitting, Miss Margot?”
“Almost finished,” I said to the salesman as I fastened the buttons of my shirtsleeves below my wristwatch.
“Brilliant.” A moment later, he asked, “Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink? We have champagne, wine—white and red.”
The salesman wasn’t asking me, though, because my champagne flute was already sitting on a table in my dressing room, its bubbles licking up the glass. “Oh, uh, no, thank you,” Sumner answered hesitantly in the waiting room.
“Something stronger, perhaps? We have a lovely maple whisky.”
“No, I’m—I’m fine, thank you.”
As I shrugged on my outer suit jacket, I smiled at the discomfort in Sumner’s voice. It was clear he wasn’t used to the attention, such service, and I enjoyed introducing him to it. “Forgive him,” I said as I exited the dressing room, smoothing my hand down the arm of the jacket. “This is a new experience for him.”
There were no mirrors inside the dressing room, so stepping out into the open seating area that was ceiling to floor reflective glass, I took in my outfit for the first time. The pastel blue suit fit me like a glove, not that I was surprised. It wasn’t often that Gilfman got my sizing wrong, not anymore. The double-breasted vest tapered in tightly at my waist, more so than a man’s would. It illuminated my silhouette elegantly. The pants narrowed down my thigh to accentuate the shape of my legs, but not so much that they looked like a pair of skinny jeans.
Anyone who thought my suits looked like something men wore wouldn’t think that if they ever saw a man try to put one on.
“It’s exactly like the sketch I gave,” I said as I appraised my reflection, turning to see how the suit jacket fell against my back. “It’s quite lovely. What do you think?” In the mirror, I looked at Sumner.
He sat on one of the plush couches in the sitting area. Sumner held his phone in his hand, presumedly had been looking at it before I walked out, but his attention was on me now. I watched as his eyes roamed down my body, taking the fitted suit. It was vastly different from the looksI normally received, but I couldn’t pick apart what emotion shone in his expression. Finally, he came to rest on my face. “Very nice.”
A lackluster response.
“It is quite perfect, isn’t it?” the salesman, Jordan, murmured, coming up to me. He checked that the stitches fell exactly where they were supposed to. “Are there any specific things you notice you’d like changed?”
The jacket seemed satisfactory, so I shrugged it off and examined the look without it. The suit itself was more of a casual one. Though double-breasted, the material was on the slimmer side, and the shoulders had no padding, which gave it a more relaxed look. I pinched the material of the vest, debating on whether I liked how much of a gap there was.
Jordan seemed to agree, his fingers replacing mine near my hip where I’d pinched the fabric. “About half an inch, hmm?” he murmured, analyzing the silhouette. “This wouldn’t be a hard fix at all. I could take it into the back and alter it right quick, if you’ve got the time.”
One of the best things about this Gilfman store was that each of the salesmen were tailors, which made for easy and quick fixes. “We’ve got the time,” I said, passing Sumner my wine glass. He took it wordlessly, and I began to undo my vest’s buttons. “As long as I can get another wine.”
“Of course, of course.” Jordan draped the material over his arm. “Feel free to look about the store as well. It shouldn’t take too long.” And with that, he was gone.
The waiting area grew quiet, save for an orchestra playing faintly over the speakers. I walked over to Sumnerand stopped above him, forcing him to tip his head back to peer at me. “You design your own suits?” he asked, passing back my wine glass.
“I give suggestions. The beautiful clothiers bring it to life. My Malstoni suits, though, are all his designs. One does not mess with perfection.”
“Why suits?”
“Why not?”
Sumner blinked a little before donning a sheepish expression. “Fashion design, though. Not that I know the slightest thing about fashion, but that’s cool. Have you ever thought of doing something more with it?”