Chapter 17
No Such Thing as a Casual Suit
Wyatt
I showed up at the suit maker’s more than an hour early. Caroline texted me two days ago to let me know that she had changed the time for my appointment, but I had failed to get that on my calendar.
Once I realized my mistake, I decided to find a bite to eat.
I had come straight from work without taking time for lunch.
I was feeling hangry and more than a little irritated when I heard Caroline’s distinctive cackle.
She wasn’t hard to find, sitting with Ed Frechette on the patio at Ella’s.
They looked so good together—so relaxed and happy and beautiful.
I felt a little nauseated. No longer hungry, I walked back to the suit maker’s. I told them I was ready to get started.
The man looked confused. “But Ms. Bingham’s not here, and your appointment isn’t for another hour.”
“Isn’t there something I can do? Something to get this over with faster.”
“Sure, I guess we can get started. Is this your first custom suit?” the man asked eagerly.
“Yes.”
“Good, good, and what type of suit do you want?” asked the salesman.
“Aren’t they all the same?”
The man gave me a sympathetic smile and handed me a catalog.
He offered me a drink. I asked for a Diet Coke.
Not my usual drink of choice, but I was feeling sentimental.
I sipped while I flipped through the catalog, not really looking at suits but thinking of Caroline with Ed.
She told me he was boring, but I had seen them laughing.
I had been so excited about meeting her at the suit fitting that I had hardly slept the night before. Now I just felt angry at the world.
Caroline waltzed in as I was being measured. And despite seeing her with Ed an hour before, my treacherous heart leapt at the sight of her walking in. Wearing a dress with buttons running down the front and a bow tied at the waist, she looked like a hot 1950s housewife.
“Look who finally showed up.” I meant to sound teasing, but it came out accusatory. She didn’t notice; she was absolutely beaming.
“Sorry, I’m late.” She held up a paper bag. “Hungry?”
“Yeah,” I said flatly. “I skipped lunch to make this appointment.”
“Sorry, I swear I texted you about the time change. But as a peace offering, I brought you a lobster roll.”
I was tempted to ask if her boyfriend paid for it, but I didn’t want to pick a fight in front of the tailor now putting a measuring tape far too close to my groin.
“What have you accomplished without me?” she asked cheerfully.
Sulking, I took a deep breath and tried to pull myself together. I was doing this whole ill-conceived glow-up to spend more time with Caroline. I certainly wasn’t going to win her over acting like a petulant child.
“We looked at some fabrics, and we’re almost finished with measurements. Right, David?”
The tailor measuring me gave us a thumbs-up.
“Did you look at shoes?” Caroline asked.
I shook my head.
“Well then, as soon as your measurements are finished, you can take a break to eat while I’ll review the fabric you picked out. I think we should go with an all-season casual suit.”
“Casual suit? Isn’t that an oxymoron?” I asked. “There’s nothing casual about a suit.”
The man who took my measurements smiled to himself.
Did he think I was funny, or was he trying not to laugh at what a simpleton I was?
Everyone in the store wore a suit, and it made me feel wholly out of place.
It reminded me of the few times I visited my grandpa’s law firm.
Caroline was right, clothing did send a message.
All the suits here seemed to say, I’m better than you.
Perhaps I really did want a suit. It would be nice to know I looked my best when I met with the press at the New York Auto Show, or with customers in the showroom Charlie and I had been planning.
I wanted to signal what I already knew: I was just as good as the billionaires and nepo babies who wanted to buy my cars.
“Remember Ed at the estate sale,” said Caroline. “He was wearing a casual suit.”
“There’s nothing casual about that guy,” I said caustically.
“There’s nothing casual about me,” Caroline answered breezily. She bent down and whispered in my ear. “And you like me.”
If I hadn’t just seen her happily eating lunch with Ed, I’d think she was flirting with me. I had no idea what to do with that. But I did know that as good of a guy as Ed was, there was no way he could love Caroline the way I did. And I was going to do whatever it took to help her see that.
“I changed my mind.” I stood up after finishing my lobster roll. “I want three suits!”
Caroline squealed with joy and threw her arms around me. Caroline and her spontaneous hugs.
“That’s the best news ever!” She beamed up at me, smiling. For a minute, my jealousy took a back seat. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“If I’d known it would make you this happy, I would have agreed to three suits long ago.”
My arms were still around her. Her hands rested on my back. Suddenly this didn’t feel one bit professional. We stepped apart awkwardly. Caroline straightened her hair and looked away shyly. “Okay, three suits,” she repeated.
***
Two hours later, we finished. We ordered two casual suits and one for business. Caroline campaigned to get me to agree to a tuxedo to wear to weddings and galas. But I held my ground. I couldn’t imagine a time I would go to either.
“I still think you need a formal suit,” she said as we walked out into the hot city street.
“Just be happy you convinced me to buy three suits. And two pairs of shoes with pointy toes.”
“And don’t forget the six made-to-measure dress shirts,” she added smugly.
“You have nothing to complain about.”
“I know. I feel like celebrating my triumph. Do you have plans for tonight?” she asked.
“No... not really... I was thinking about watching Netflix in a casual suit, but since I don’t have that yet. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
She snort-laughed and linked her arm through mine. Her playfulness reminded me of the other night at the fair.
“Let’s get dinner,” she said. “I bet you’re hungry. Lobster rolls are not that filling.”
She was right about that. I was starving. “I’m in. Where to?”