Page 37 of Beneath the Blindfold

* * *

TABLE FOR TWO

This story originally appeared in the ROYALLY MINE anthology and is best read after THREE SWEET NOTHINGS, book 5 in the series.

ONE

JULIUS

I was buying suits like a heartbroken person bought a gallon of ice cream to cheer themselves up. It was getting really fucking expensive, but at least I could afford it.

Courtney Crawford was going on a date. Tonight. Her first official date since her divorce six months ago, and it was killing me. I’d bought my first suit after I got her text about it last week. The gray fabric was so dark, it was almost black, and it matched my shitty mood. I also got a maroon silk tie and pocket square that had small white polka dots. It looked good, like I had money and style.

I ordered the second suit when she called me on Tuesday, wanting advice on where she should go if the guy asked for ideas.Nowhere,I wanted to say.Go out with me instead.Fuck. If I’d known she was ready, maybe I would have done something about it.

Who was I kidding? We were friends, and I didn’t want to fuck that up.

I’d watched her with another guy for the last seven years. I’d stood up at her and Tariq’s wedding because he was my boy and he'd asked me to. I didn’t know how the hell to say no. Didn’t want him figuring out I was in love with his girl and have him take her away from me.

I told myself it was cool. Courtney and I could just be friends. I’d rather have that, than nothing at all.

But then he’d started cheating on her.

Wait, fuck that. He’dalwaysbeen cheating on her. She knew about it when we’d been at Ohio State. He said it was a one-time fuck-up. It’d never happen when she was his wife. Tariq was a beast on the football field and an asshole off it, but he was smart enough to know he needed to lock Courtney down.

The front door of the shop chimed when I pushed it open, and I marched toward the counter in the back. The place was dead, but it was three o’clock on a Friday. The only man I saw working didn’t look familiar, and it added to my disappointment. Two years ago, I owned one suit, which I never wore and barely fit into. Now, I had a closet full of them, all tailored to the last goddamn detail, and a specific guy I liked when I shopped here.

“Where’s Maurice?” I asked.

The guy behind the register was pale, almost like he’d never been outside. His nametag said ‘Brandon’ and as he stared up at me, his Adam’s apple bobbed in a hard swallow.

I got that a lot. I was a big motherfucker.

“He’s out today,” Brandon said. “Can I help you with something?”

“I got a call telling me my suit’s ready.”

“Your name?”

“Julius King.”

He nodded, disappeared into the back, and reappeared holding the top of the hanger sticking out of the black garment bag.

I took it from him. “I gotta check the fit.”

“Of course. Please let me know if you need anything.” He motioned toward the fitting rooms.

Don’t think about Courtney.I stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt, and pulled on the suit pants.Don’t think about the lucky fucker who’d been set up on the blind date with her.I shoved my arms through the crisp black dress shirt that was also custom-made.Don’t think about how Kyle betrayed you, arranging the whole GD thing. He was supposed to be my friend. The only one who knew how I felt about Courtney, and then he went and fucking set her up with someone else.

Asshole. I hadn’t texted him back since I found out. I was almost thirty, but not too old to give his ass the silent treatment.

I buttoned the shirt, pulled the jacket off the hanger, and put it on. The fit was good. The suit was a deep purple, and looked sharp, not stuffy. I stepped out of the room and went to the full-length mirror, where Brandon lurked.

His eyes widened. “Wow. Looks great.”

“Thanks, man.”

I stared at my reflection. I should have felt good. My linebacker build was physically impressive, and the expensive clothes made me seem professional. I looked powerful, and when I scowled, people nearly shit themselves. But I’d learned a while back how a smile got me a hell of a lot further. I liked smiling better, anyway.

---