Arlo
With a sudden hiss, water flowed into the bathroom sink, and I squeezed soap from the dispenser to rinse the sticky hair product from my hands.
I preferred a light touch with hair products, but no matter how little I used, it always snuck between my fingers.
Yet it was the only product I had found that created a ‘natural’ controlled look and stayed in for hours.
Checking my hair again to ensure it was in place, I turned toward the door where the garment bag that had been dropped off earlier waited.
Unzipping it, I looked over the tuxedo. It didn’t look much different than when it had been in Ward’s closet, a closet almost three times the size of my bathroom, but I trusted that it had been altered.
Anyone with the confidence to be as ‘unprofessional’ as Miles while being trusted by someone like Ward, who had high standards, was someone I could trust without checking their work.
As I dressed carefully, I wondered what it must be like to have a bathroom that could fit a few people to dress comfortably without fear of bumping into one another. Ward’s bathroom had been painful for me, but that had nothing to do with the size.
In fact, my entire small house, nestled in one of the few quiet neighborhoods in Cresson Point, probably amounted to a third, if not a fourth, of his penthouse.
Not that I was self-conscious, I liked my home.
The neighborhood was quiet, except for the sounds of kids running around the streets, but that didn’t bother me.
Before I’d been adopted by Matilda, the neighborhood I’d lived in had been the sort where if you were small and weak, you made sure to get from A to B as quickly as possible.
The sound of children playing, without a care in the world, was a good thing as far as I was concerned.
My home was big enough for me, each room large enough to house my things, and an extra bedroom in case I had guests. I rarely did, except my siblings, Dom in particular. Ever since I bought the house, he had taken to spending what time he had in Cresson Point at the hotel or in my home.
Again, I didn’t mind having company when he didn’t have a match or wasn’t staying at the hotel.
Of all my siblings, he was the easiest to cohabitate with.
He didn’t stir up trouble as much as Mason, wasn’t as particular as Moira, or as full of unspent energy as Milo.
Eli could have been a good fit, but he had been tied to Milo for as long as we could remember.
That was even truer since they were officially a couple.
With everything but the outer parts of the outfit on, I looked myself over and chuckled.
It fitted to perfection. Normally, a fitting would require extra work after the first attempt, but Miles was not the sort to need that.
I would have to seriously consider looking into his ‘average’ services if they were as reasonable as he and Ward made them out to be.
I had never had any outfit fit my body perfectly, being snug in the right places but allowing space to breathe and move comfortably.
I paused, cocking my head and snorting when I heard something shuffle outside. “You’re not quiet enough to be either Rags or Muffin.”
From outside the door, Dom gave a soft snort. “Are you kidding? Muffin makes more noise than me when I stumble in drunk.”
That was true, the fluffy, tawny brown cat looked positively majestic.
..right up until you saw him try to jump, or do anything most cats with their usual grace could do.
Her brother was far quieter, but even he could be pretty heavy-footed when he decided the house was too quiet and he needed to sprint from one end to the other, pausing only to tilt his head back and scream to the heavens before taking off again.
“I’ll be out in a moment,” I told him. “I wasn’t trying to hold it up.”
“Mmm, it’s not an emergency.”
“Ah, then you’re being nosy.”
“Bro, you disappeared yesterday, and today some random girl shows up with a garment bag, and you’ve been in there fussing over yourself more than normal, which is saying something. Damn right I’m being nosy.”
I shook my head. “There are other people in our family who lead far more interesting lives than me; focus on them.”
“Are you kidding? Moira has always been Miss Responsible. Mason is behaving himself for once in his life, God save me, but love actually turned him into an adult. And really? I don’t want to know what Milo and Eli get up to in their alone time anymore.
If I want to, I’ll look at the shit they post, at least then I don’t have to picture them. ..well—”
“Didn’t they recently start posting thirst traps of the two of them?” I asked with a smile.
“Oh my God, yes, thanks so much for the reminder. Just so you know, I actually meant ‘fuck you for reminding me’.”
“I assumed as much. And I promise not to tell anyone you’re being squeamish about the whole thing.”
“I’d say thanks, but I can tell you’re being a jackass.
As much of a jackass as you can be, but still a goddamn jackass.
I’m happy for them. If any two people were like.
..handcrafted personally by God, it’s those two.
I do not want to think about what they get up to in their spare time.
I already saw them making out when they got too drunk at the bar, and I didn’t. ..hands were going places, alright?”
“I understand,” I said as I opened the door. Dom was leaning on the wall opposite, and his eyes widened as he took in the entire ensemble.
He gave a low whistle. “Well, goddamn, don’t you look spiffy? Who are you trying to impress?”
“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” I told him honestly. “It’s the dress code.”
His face scrunched up. “Christ, please tell me this is a date and not some...dead people function.”
“Dead people function,” I repeated with a roll of my eyes. “It’s a charity function, and why do you care if it’s a date?”
“Because you haven’t been on one in ages and, like...you need to go on one, Arlo. Everyone is pretty sure you haven’t been dating, but I know you haven’t. So please tell me this is a date, and no, don’t lie if it isn’t.”
Ours was a strange relationship, but a close one.
Perhaps it was because, unlike the others, we were the only two pure ‘outsiders’ in the family, having had parents and a home before life found a way to change the circumstances.
Perhaps it was because we were the only two who weren’t tied up in what the others did or didn’t do, and respected the privacy of others and wished the same for us.
Whatever the reasons, Dom and I had always gotten along quite nicely, with no real friction, and always knew how to operate around the other.
He knew more than any other part of our family that I had no preference when it came to the gender of a partner, but I was slow to pick a partner.
Just like I was the only one in the family who knew he had been with men before, only a few, and with one exception, they had been one-night flings that he barely thought about.
Admittedly, I knew very little about the one man he’d been serious about.
Dom spoke of him only in the vaguest terms and with the understanding that I keep it to myself.
“It is a date,” I said as I brushed past him and stepped into the living room, stroking Rags, who was loafed on the arm of the couch. “It could be strictly platonic, he made it clear it could be if I wanted, but...I’ve decided that I don’t want it to be.”
“He, huh?” he asked, curious. “This, uh, switching it up since it didn’t work with what’s her name?”
“If bisexual people needed to switch it up because the last person was of one gender, then you are long overdue to be with a man. One might even say you have an outstanding debt in that regard,” I told him wryly.
“Look, if a guy out there tickled my pickle for more than one night, sure, but it hasn’t happened, and I’m not betting on it. I’ve met a lot of men over the years, and none of them do it for me like that.”
“You’ve also met plenty of women, and have yet to settle down with any of them.”
“It’s always fun when you find a way to call me a slut without actually calling me a slut.”
“I wasn’t, but if the shoe happens to fit—”
“Uh-huh, what’s better than a shoe fitting? A tuxedo being fitted for you,” he said with a smirk. “What’s his name?”
“Ward.”
“Uh...interesting. Last name?”
“Now you mention it, I never asked,” I said, briefly mentioning where and how I had met Ward and how the tuxedo had come to my place.
I left out the part where Ward had pretended, badly, to take measurements.
No one but the two of us needed to know that I had come dangerously close to reaching down and gripping the back of his head, to feel how soft his auburn hair was between my fingers, to see if his almost unnaturally gray eyes would darken or brighten when I unzipped my pants.
But I knew, and I suspected he knew as well, that was enough.
“Wait,” Dom said as I collected my phone and wallet, checked the time, and waited near the front door. If Ward was as punctual as I was, the ride he was sending would arrive in a few minutes. “Ward...Reddington?”
I thought about it for a moment, and a memory arose of me standing at the front desk in his building, waiting for the security guard to let me through to the elevator.
The way the security guard sat, the computer screen turned enough that I could see the words.
I hadn’t paid much attention at the time, but now I thought about it. ..hadn’t the screen said Reddington?
“It might be,” I said slowly, cocking my head. “Why?”
“As in the Reddington family?”
“I...don’t know, are they well known?”
“I mean, they weren’t, just one of those super old, rich families that get away without being known all that well. Right up until one of them became our state governor. Shit yeah, I remember seeing that she only had one kid, a son.”