Made in Manhattan

He shot her the briefest of scowls, then followed Jacob to a seating area near the dressing rooms.

Violet was relieved there were only a few customers in the store. It would make it all the easier for Cain if he didn’t have an audience of curious shoppers.

“So, Cain, what brings you to the city?” Jacob asked over his shoulder.

Violet nearly laughed. What was normally an innocuous question had a whopper of an answer.

Well, let’s see. In order to inherit billions, he has to convince the biggest snobs in all of Manhattan that he’s not straight out of the bayou, which… he sort of is.

“Business,” Cain said curtly.

Violet rubbed her fingers between her eyebrows and mentally noted they had some serious work to do on his small talk skills.

Jacob nodded amiably and gestured toward a couple of straight-backed chairs. Violet sat. Cain did not.

“What are we looking for today?” Jacob asked.

“A little of everything,” Violet said before Cain could respond with something profane. “An overcoat, definitely. I loved the look of that gray wool one in the window. Slacks and dress shirts. Maybe a couple more casual options too,” she said quickly, catching Cain’s thunderous expression.

“Absolutely. Cain, you mind if I take some measurements?” Jacob asked, pulling out a measuring tape.

Cain did mind. It was obvious from his frown, but he stood in front of a full-length mirror and tolerated Jacob measuring his inseams, the width of his shoulders.

Broad, Violet noted. Very broad.

“If you’ll hang tight for just a minute, I’ll be right back with some options to get us started,” Jacob said, glancing down at his notebook and wandering off.

Cain dropped into the seat beside her. She looked at him. “How are we doing?”

He frowned. “Don’t give me that we shit. You’re not the one on display.”

“True. Instead, I get to live out my life’s dream of babysitting a sulky man-child.”

“And yet you agreed to the old lady’s plan,” he said, sitting back in the chair. “Makes me wonder just how boring your life must be.”

“My life isn’t boring,” she retorted automatically.

“Yeah? What would you normally be doing right now, if not dressing me up like a Barbie doll?”

“Trust me, you’re hardly a Barbie doll. More angry GI Joe,” she said, dodging the question so she didn’t have to reply that she’d likely be running errands for Edith, though most definitely of an easier variety than the one she was tasked with currently.

Jacob rejoined them with an enormous stack of clothes. He directed Cain to a dressing room as he patiently explained what shirt went with which pants, what was brunch casual, which was cocktail casual…

“Don’t forget, we’re expecting a fashion show out here,” Violet called out sweetly as Cain pulled the heavy black curtains to the dressing room closed. His hand shot back through the opening, middle finger extended.

Violet was so startled she laughed.

As Cain changed, Violet mentally readied her platitudes for when the curtain reopened. She was good at saying the right thing. All of Edith’s friends believed her when she assured them they had no wrinkles. She was the first one her friends called when needing promises that of course they could get their prebaby body back. She’d even convinced Keith that his hairline wasn’t already receding, and that was quite a feat, because it totally was.

In other words, Violet was armed and ready with pretty flatteries to reassure Cain that yes, he could pull off dress slacks and cashmere, even if he looked ridiculous.

As it turned out, she didn’t need platitudes. Or flattery. Or lies. And he did not look ridiculous.

When he stepped out into the main area, Violet could barely keep her jaw from dropping.

Cain Stone didn’t just pull off the dark gray slacks and pale blue sweater. He owned them. Everything fit him to perfection, as though they were tailor-made instead of off the rack.

“Excellent,” Jacob murmured, studying Cain in a polite, but assessing way. “You know, I don’t even know if we need the pants altered. They fit you just right.”

Yeah they did. Violet was feeling a bit… warm

“How’s everything feel?” Jacob asked Cain.

Cain shrugged. “Like clothes.”

Jacob glanced at Violet, looking for more help. “Thoughts?”

Violet swallowed, her mouth strangely dry. “Nice.”

Cain lifted his eyebrows, and there was a smokiness to his gaze when his brown eyes found hers. Her voice had been… breathy.

“Let’s try the light gray sweater with the same pants,” Jacob said, either oblivious to, or ignoring, the sparks between Cain and Violet. “I think you’ll like the monochromatic look.”

Violet wasn’t sure if Jacob was talking to Cain or to her, but as Cain tried on the next set of clothes, she decided she definitely liked the monochromatic look for Cain.

Just as she liked the white button-down.

The burgundy sweater.

The gray slacks, the navy chinos.

Even an olive-green cardigan, which should have been dowdy but instead seemed to bring out flecks of gold in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before.