Page 96 of The Tape Job
“Okay, an engagement suit then,” he snaps.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
I select another jacket from the shelf and eye it tentatively before lowering my voice. “I’m pretty sure you have nicer suits than this already.”
Ryan snatches the jacket from me and hangs it up. “Forget it.”
“I’m sorry, but if you’re going to propose, you should go all out. Go to Tom Ford or whatever—”
“I have three of those. I don’t like the fit.”
“Then why do you have three?” I ask.
Ryan scowls at me.
“Look, I’m just saying—” but I’m interrupted by the tinkling bell over the door as the rest of the team pile into the store.
As predicted, it’s a matter of seconds before we’re all crammed together, shoulder to shoulder. But when the door opens again, Vicky’s voice sounds from the threshold.
“Oh, my God! Does no one read e-mails? I said you needed to come in groups of four from four o’clock!”
She pushes her way through the crowd, looking around before asking if anyone has seen the tailor. As if on cue, he appears from the small room at the back again, his face dropping when he looks around.
“I’m fixing it, Mr Lewis,” Vicky says before listing out four names. She tells everyone else they can leave until summoned.
As people sift out, the tailor edges close to Vicky. “Since you’re here, Miss Koenig, may I take the time to remind you we will charge for missing or soiled items. I mean, after last year I will have to take a larger deposit. I understand the absence of a tie or a pocket square, but a waistcoat?”
He looks pissed.
“We apologised for that, and the team have assured me they will be more considerate with the rentals this time. Thanks for giving us a second chance.”
Ryan and I follow Bettsy and Hutch outside before crossing the street to join Johnny and Ffordey at the coffee place opposite.
“You never told us what happened to that pocket square, Prez,” Hutch says, as we queue for drinks.
“And you’re never going to find out,” Ryan says.
“Why do I feel like this is a story I need to know?” I ask.
“Forget it,” Ryan says, nudging me away.
We order with the barista, and then we pull up some chairs next to Johnny and Ffordey with our coffees. Bettsy launches into a story that I’m only half listening to. I’m watching the tailor’s opposite, hoping to catch another glimpse of Vicky. I arranged for her to receive a gift basket with shampoo, perfume, and some other stuff I know she likes, and I’m keen to know if she got it.
“So yeah, they call it ‘cat-poo-chino,’” Bettsy says, nudging me.
“They call it what?” Hutch asks, eyes wide.
“There’s a coffee bean that these cat-like animals in Indonesia eat. And when they shit them out, they use the remnants to make coffee. The animal’s stomach acid removes the hard shell from the beans.”
“I’m done listening to anything you’ve got to say. Ever.” Danny’s mouth is wide open. “How do you know about this, anyway? You’ve never been to Indonesia.”
“No, but someone else has—” He cuts himself off when something grabs his attention. He stands up and nearly topples the table with his legs. “Kelly! Kelly! Over here!” He’s waving as if he’s trying to coax a plane from the sky. A redhead, who looks like a hot version of Bettsy, walks towards us. She unwinds a scarf from her neck and pulls off a pair of gloves, shoving them in her coat pocket. “What areyou doing here?” he says. “Guys, this is my sister, Kelly. Kel, I was just telling the guys about the cat-poo-chino.”
Kelly smiles awkwardly and pushes her hair behind her ears.
“When did you go to Indonesia?” I ask, trying to make her feel at ease.
“Oh, I haven’t been. Stacey did. My big sister.”
