12. Costume Catwalk
12
Costume Catwalk
At work, I ripped the tape off a huge box and peeled back the flaps to check out the costumes inside. Sexy Harlequin. Classic. I pushed it aside. Once I got all the boxes sorted, I hung each outfit option and smiled at the menagerie of mischief.
Hot Contra got it right.
Killer clowns, pony princesses, and vampire masquerades: a little something for everybody. Or at least those of us who wanted to play.
I glanced at my phone, that mystery-number-holding slab, and sighed. If I wanted to set up for the costume party, I wouldn’t have enough time to run to the theater. Sadly, I chose nibbling on discount candy instead of my spider man’s lips. Frickin’ priorities. Frickin’ management.
The store was busy, so I ran between day-to-day tasks and the office to finish sorting costumes and decorations. A stiff spine and mystery name were the least of my worries today. Every spare second went to the costume parade.
My coworkers’ chatter drummed through the walls. They’d been waiting all day for this; some even came in especially for it.
I poured individually-wrapped discount candy into a bowl, then turned up the music. “Let’s get dressed.”
The team scrambled for snacks and outfits. Bree bounced off the desk and flung open the biggest dressing room stall. “Dibs.”
I furrowed my brow. “You can’t claim it forever. Each person rotates through after one try-on.” Didn’t she remember from previous years?
She scoffed and unzipped her shirt. “Whatever. We can change right here.”
AJ shielded his eyes and flushed. “Can I grab a Freddy sweater first?”
“Take it.” She tossed one at his face.
The sleeves knocked his glasses askew. He wrinkled his nose at the tag. “Do you think I’m a medium?”
“I don’t know, can you speak to the dead?” I joked.
He gave me a blank look.
“You know, because mediums are the people who…do that.” I looked for a glimmer of recognition in anyone’s expression, but most were too distracted by costumes to register my silly attempt to lighten the mood.
Bree rolled her eyes and turned around.
“Never mind.” I ushered him to the candy bowl. “We’ll give them five minutes.”
As it turned out, the medium-sized sweater barely fit over his head.
I tied the sleeves around his shoulders so he could wear it more like a cape. “Here, enjoy a preppy interpretation until we can get into the office to exchange sizes,” I said.
He fiddled with the knot and frowned. “Why aren’t you going in?”
My throat strained, probably from dehydration. I twisted open a hard candy and sucked the syrup from its rocky base. “The costumes will still be there in a few minutes.”
Giggling folks darted to and from the dressing room in groups, making it an impromptu photo booth.
“Hold on, my boob’s out,” Bree said.
AJ choked on a caramel chew. Coughing, he knocked on his chest. I slapped his back and shook my head.
Even though I’d seen a few of my coworkers in their underwear for non-sexy reasons like this, now that I was their boss, it was different. Weird how that turned around so fast.
At least everyone was excited about the outfits. It was a full-on dance party in the store. Selfie central. People laughed and threw clothes at one another.
“Make sure we can resell those,” I called. Other than that, I didn’t care if they opened a few packages. Customers needed multiple sizes to try, anyway.
Willow twisted her hair amid the outskirts of the makeshift runway. Was she the runt of the litter, unable to squeeze into the office and check out the good stuff? Or was she not into dress-up?
Either way, AJ needed to get in there.
I knocked on the office door. “Hey, can everyone get dressed for a second? A few of us still need to grab full outfits for the store pic.”
“Okay,” they chimed.
Platform heels and Converse clunked on the floor as they made their way out of the office.
“All clear?” I peeked inside the empty room. “Fantastic. Anyone who wants to change privately can now come in and make their selections.”
Willow ducked inside and headed towards the zombie fare.
AJ tried on an extra-large sweater over his clothes. It hung almost to his knees. “I think this is probably the least exciting outfit here,” he said.
“You’re still edgy.” I picked out a few accessories that made my spidey senses tingle. Willow slunk into the dressing room, so I locked myself in the office to change.
In the hall, AJ asked, “So, do people wear the sexy costumes when they’re in relationships or when they’re single?”
“Both,” Bree answered. “People want to get freaky.”
I smiled and rolled cobweb tights up my thighs, wishing I had faint teeth marks from my dream man’s bites in real life. “Sometimes you just want to let out the inner beast," I said.
Howls rang out through the store, followed by laughter. What a bunch of animals.
I wriggled into a velvet dress with gossamer sleeves. “But really, costumes are about safely exploring what we’re capable of,” I said. “That’s why there are so many variations.”
“Oh, please. It’s about fake blood and ass. Just ask the guys leering in the window,” Bree said.
Leering? I stormed out of the office. No one harassed my employees.
Pushing up my sleeves, I marched to the front of the store where a few guys peered through the window displays. Mostly teens. One guy stood apart from them, scanning instead of gawking.
Spider-Man.
He caught sight of me and started, his pretty eyes brightening.
Shit. What was I supposed to do? Yell at the other guys and flirt with him? But this was my chance–I had to get his name.
I unlocked the door and poked my head into the mall. “Hello, gentlemen. The mall’s closing, so you should probably keep moving.”
They shot me dirty looks and shuffled down the walkway. My man hesitated, though he did start to turn away with an awkward bow and wave.
“Wait.” I batted my eyelashes at him. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I…don’t know.” He chuckled and glanced inside. “You seem kinda busy.”
“We’re having a party.”
“And you didn’t invite me?” He stuck his hands in his black uniform pants and offered me a crooked smile. The theater’s button-down shirt hung over his shoulder, a black undershirt the only thing between me and his chest.
I slipped further into the mall and propped the door open with my hip. “I don’t know, sir. What’s your name? Maybe it’s on our list.”
He chuckled and ducked his head. “Victor.”
“Victor,” I purred. What a name. A great one. And I felt victorious. But I wasn’t risking another missed connection between us.
I pulled out my phone. “What’s your last name?” Please don’t let it be Frankenstein, I prayed.
“Sterling.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as I checked my contacts.
There he was. Victor Sterling. In the notes section, he had a spider and movie emoji. Nice touch. I grinned and stroked the screen.
He combed his bangs and peered at me through his spidery lashes. “What do you think? Did I earn my entry?”
I bit my lip and tucked my phone into my bra. “Unfortunately, it’s employees only. But I can get you a piece of candy.”
His gaze flicked from my bustier to my face. “Thank you for the treat.”
I smiled and slid back into the store, thinking, ‘Thank you for the dreams.’