“You are.”
I glared at him. Why I expected better of him considering the circumstances didn’t make sense. I knew him well enough by now to know that we agreed on exactly zero things. Whether or not we should have been having sex as client and stylist was another addition to the list. “You’re a child.”
“We both know that’s not true. If it was, you’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble after what we just did.”
“That was a mistake.”
“If you say so,” he said with a shrug. I pulled my panties back up. I couldn’t clean up the mess until I got home. That was plenty of time and an awkward cab ride to think about what I had done. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t need to dwell on it to feel more shame. Any more shame and I’d surely combust.
“Get those clothes off. We’re not buying them.”
“No? Then what the hell did I come here for? Wait, you don’t have to tell me the answer to that.” He laughed again and I felt my skin crawl. All it had taken was one moment of weakness and now I couldn’t take it back. I had just had sex with the client. That was the height of unprofessionalism. I deserved to be out of a job. I deserved to be shamed in the public square. What the hell had gotten into me… besides him? I cringed.
“You’re not funny you know.”
“I know that. I know you were never after me for my personality. It was my other talents that got you.” My God, there was really no end to his self-centeredness. When he caught me in the right mood, that cocky attitude when it came to his works was actually kind of funny, and yes, charming, but not now. The worst part was that it wasn’t even a lie. There were wild grizzly bears with better personalities than he had. None of them were as attractive as him though.
“This was a mistake.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself to get to sleep at night.” I looked at myself in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like I had just done what I had done. In my long history of bad relationships, I had never ventured into the arena of public sex. Several men had tried to lure me there, but I had never budged which of course made them label me a prude. Turns out I was right. The one time I had done it, I felt like the biggest monster alive. How had I convinced myself or let him to this?
I heard sounds from the other side of the door, and then a knock. Oh, Christ, she was back. I darted out of the door and closed it behind me, standing against it so she didn’t try and get around me into the room. The manager was there with a slightly confused look on her face, holding a bag in her hands.
“You’re back,” I said foolishly.
“Yes. Here is your food. Is everything okay with the clothes?”
“The clothes… yeah, yes. Thanks so much for this. My client’s absolutely starving. Driving me crazy.” I took the bag. She blinked a couple of times looking at me. I knew that I sounded and looked crazy. I wondered whether my makeup looked okay. I knew that I had checked it before leaving the dressing room but now I wasn’t sure. I opened the bag and took out a sandwich.
“I got roast beef for both of you, I hope that’s okay. The deli guy recommended it.” I took a bite of the sandwich. It was fine, nothing to write home about but I hummed with pleasure.
“Absolutely delicious, my favorite,” I gushed. She was completely baffled. Here I was digging into a deli sandwich like it was something from a Michelin star restaurant while trying to pretend I hadn’t just had sex with a man in her place of work. I must have looked ridiculous. To be honest, I couldn’t even taste the food. If she got any inkling of what had just gone on in her store, I couldn’t imagine what the consequences would be. I took another bite, about to say something else, but the door behind me opened. I spun around and I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. Easton was naked. Well, he was naked from the waist up which for some reason was even more devastating than if he was completely naked.
“Food’s here? Great,” he said, walking up. He took the remaining sandwich, unwrapped it, and took a big bite out of it. For a few seconds, both me and the manager were transfixed. He was easy on the eyes if nothing else. Easy on the eyes, hard everywhere else, including…
Jesus Christ, stop it, stop it right now.
“How are the clothes?” the store manager asked him.
He shrugged and took another bite out of his sandwich. “They’re okay. I don’t know, this isn’t really my shopping trip. It’s hers.” He made eye contact finally. I looked for any trace of anxiety or, I don’t know, shame maybe? I looked for some sign that he was conscious of what had just happened between us in a semipublic place. Some recognition of the fact that we had almost been caught having sex in the dressing room of a high-end boutique. Some s
ign that he would help me out and actually cover for us in the unfortunate case of the manager sussing out what had happened.
His face was completely blank. He looked as guileless as a newborn. Eating his sandwich, standing there without a shirt on, he was playing the role of absolute innocence. I felt my stomach lurch and it wasn’t the fault of the sandwich.
“Is there anything else you want me to try on while I’m still here?” he asked me. “I was thinking I would get a move on if there wasn’t.” So that was it then. I didn’t know what I was feeling, hearing him speak so nonchalantly after what just happened. The alternative would be far worse. If he had walked out of the changing room and began talking about what we had just done, I would have run into traffic or something. Right after we had done the deed, I felt regret. I felt immediately that I had done something wrong, no matter how good it had felt. Now, I just felt empty, and I didn’t like that.
“Coming here today, what I needed was to figure out what colors, cuts, and styles work on you. That and to get your general sizing. I think we’ve accomplished that so if you would like to leave, you can leave. I can take over from here.” My veneer of professionalism slid seamlessly back into place. Today felt like a loss. Up until now, Easton and I had been engaged in a battle of wills and today, he had won. He officially had the upper hand.
Our attraction was apparent from the start, but he was the one who had pushed it. All I had had to do to stay in the game was resist. How hard could that be? Resist and I wouldn’t have to be standing in a suit shop with a sandwich feeling like I’d just been chewed up and spat out. There was no coming back from this point, only engaging on new terms. I didn’t want that though; the loss was still fresh and I didn’t like the way it felt. I furiously willed things to go back to the way they were. Easton nodded and looked down briefly.
Was that… no, no way.
I could’ve sworn that he looked disappointed. His face fell slightly, and he seemed to try to hide it, but just as fast as it appeared, it was gone.
“Cool. If we're done here, I’m out.” He turned and disappeared back into the dressing room. I watched his back as he walked away from me. The strangest urge to apologize, to follow him in there, and make sure he wasn’t upset about the situation overcame me. If not that, just some sort of status report would have sufficed. Now I had more questions than answers and I wanted to know whether I was right in my thoughts about where we stood.
No, what was I thinking? This was good. What had happened had happened and for now, he didn’t seem to be holding it over me.