Admit You Want Me (Irresistible Billionaires 3)

Well, someone was a ball of fun today. That kiss must've really bent her out of shape, more than I expected. I got up and followed her.

“Where are we going?”

I pulled a number of outfits for you. Just go in there and try them on. We were at the dressing rooms. Instead of the rose of little stalls at a regular clothes shop, it was one big room with a huge mirror and a clothing rack filled with clothes. Suits. I figured she was so shocked that I didn't wear them, it only made sense that that was what she was going to torture me with first. After this probably it was only going to get easier. I was tired, and in no mood to fight with her today. I went up to the rack of clothes.

“I'll be right out here if you need anything.”

She closed the door. I looked at the clothes wondering where to start. Well, I was still dressed so how about there? I pulled my shirt off and threw it onto the bench. I grabbed one of the shirts off the rack. It was a regular white button-down shirt with long sleeves. Last time I had worn something like that was probably for my high school graduation.

I put it on and did the buttons up, studying my reflection. It was a surprisingly good fit given the fact that Missy hadn’t gotten me measured up beforehand. I had been expecting the fabric to be starch and hard, crunchy under my hands, but it was soft. I couldn’t imagine what it cost. See, that was another reason why I didn’t do this shit. The people who made these monkey suits charged an arm and a leg for them. Not only did you look stupid, but you were also an idiot for paying as much money as you did to look like that.

I took my jeans off and slid into a pair of pants that was hanging on the rack. There was a little too much give in the waist, but again, not the worst fit. I looked at myself in the mirror. It definitely could’ve been worse. I looked over the rest of the clothes on the rack. A lot of the stuff was familiar, more shirts, some in different colors, and more pairs of pants, but a couple of the things were new.

I picked up a black vest and threw it on over the shirt. I did the buttons and looked at my reflection, frowning. Was it supposed to be that loose? It didn’t look good anymore. I pulled a jacket off of one of the hangers and put it on. That didn’t make it better. It still didn’t look right. It looked worse actually. I cursed and looked over at the bench where I had tossed my clothes.

“Everything okay?” Missy asked me from outside. I ignored her and looked at the selection of accessories that had been laid out on the bench for me. Ties, bowties, and some other stuff I didn’t recognize. There were even suspenders. I wasn’t gonna wear goddamn suspenders.

What the fuck?

I had agreed to this, but what the hell was going on? I didn’t know what half of the stuff even was.

“I’m coming in,” I heard from the other side of the door before it opened. Missy walked in and took in the scene.

“What the hell is this stuff?” I asked. She sighed and came up to me.

“I should have come in here earlier. You have a mix of suit and Tuxedo pieces. you've mixed several of them here which is why they don't seem to go together well.” She went behind me and pulled the suit jacket off. “The vest is supposed to be worn with tuxedos. take it off.”

“The shirt and pants are a pretty good fit but why is the vest so loose?”

“Is there anything I can help with?” a woman’s voice said. I had totally forgotten that the store attendant was still there.

“We're fine.”

“No, we're not,” I said. Missy shot me a dirty look and then walked over to the attendant.

“It's been a long day and we're going to be here for a little while. I have things under control here, but could I bother you to buy us some food? Just a couple of sandwiches will do. I know there is a deli a couple of shops down.” I didn't see the rest of the exchange, but the store attendant said that she would be right back and then left. Missy closed the door and came back up to me.

“Why didn't you tell me how to put this crap on?”

“Forgive me for thinking that an adult man would know the basics of formal wear,” she said. I felt my temper rise.

“What the hell do you think you were hired for?” I snapped.

“Okay, I’m sorry. It was obviously a dangerous assumption to make.”

“Nobody hired you to make assumptions. You’re getting paid. Do your damn job,” I grumbled.

“Okay,” she said, coming around my body so she was in front of me. “I made a mistake overestimating your skill level and I apologized for that. Stop complaining.”

“Stop fucking up.”

“Stop being childish,” she spat.

“I had to come here and play dress-up with you after a full day of work, I am not in the mood right now.”

“You think I am?” She asked. “Take this off, you’re wearing it wrong,” she said, pulling the vest off of me.

“It's way too big anyway.”