Chapter 19 Xavier
I tell Brad that I’ll see him tomorrow at the end of my shift.
Declan’s leaning against a black Aston Martin Vanquish.
I know he has money, but I’m still taken aback by him casually leaning against a half-million-dollar car.
He looks up from his phone and opens the passenger door for me when I reach him.
“Thanks,” I say before climbing in. Or sinking in, is more like it.
The car’s interior is luxurious, to say the least. It’s camel colored with black accents.
The leather seats feel as if they wrap around me and reshape themselves to fit my body.
It’s got that new car smell. I look down at myself, making sure I do not have any major coffee stains or crumbs.
I don’t want to touch anything, much less dirty the car up.
“Put your seat belt on.”
“Always so bossy,” I comment as I click it into place. He drives with confidence as he enters traffic. I’m still so in awe of the car that, when we stop, it takes me a minute to realize we aren’t back at the apartment.
“Come on, we have an appointment.”
“Where are we and what appointment?” I follow him out of the car.
Looking around, I see that we are in the shopping district.
The street is lined with boutiques that sell couture dresses and thousand-dollar suits.
I buy most of my clothes at the thrift store.
The only reason I know about this place is that Blake dragged Jess and me here after his last breakup.
Apparently, window shopping therapy is a thing.
Maybe Declan needs to pick up a new suit or something. I look down at my well-worn clothes.
“I’ll just wait in the car. I just got off work, and I’m not dressed for places like this.”
“No.” Declan grabs my hand and starts walking.
I notice right away that he’s holding my hand, not my wrist, as he’s done in the past. His much larger hand engulfs mine, and it feels nice.
I also note that Declan has no issue touching me in public.
Of course, there are a lot of people who stare and point in our direction as we make our way to whatever store we are going to.
Can they tell how out of my league he is?
I’m definitely fighting outside of my weight class.
The shop we enter is a trendy men’s store.
It smells expensive; there is no other way to describe it.
There are only a couple of racks of clothes at the front of the store, followed by a small checkout counter and then a wall.
From the outside, the place looks big, but inside it’s small.
How much do the clothes cost if all they sell are just those racks?
“Mr. Murphy, it’s so good to see you again.
Sherry is getting things set up for you.
I’ll take you to her.” The man who greets us looks to be in his mid-thirties.
He’s definitely had plastic surgery—several surgeries by the looks of him.
Why the fuck do people do that to their lips?
He’s also trying for a seductive look with Declan, as much as the Botox will allow.
It’s somewhat funny in a pathetic kinda way.
“Thank you, Theo. This is Xavier Bonner. I want him added to my account. Anything he wants, he gets, whether I’m with him or not, understood?” I whip my head around to him and stop walking.
“Declan,” I say in a frustrated tone. “I don’t need you to buy me new clothes.”
“Yes, you do.” Like always, short and to the point.
He drags me through the archway to the back of the store.
This is why the place looks large from the outside.
There are sectioned-off areas for private fittings, complete with a small raised platform and tons of mirrors.
We continue until we reach the back; this section is twice as large as the ones we have passed.
There are two chairs and a couch with a large coffee table.
The table is covered with a large charcuterie board, bowls of fresh fruit, and pastries.
There’s also a bottle of wine chilling in one of those fancy buckets.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Murphy.” A tall blonde woman rushes toward us, her hand extended to Declan. He looks down at the offered hand. It takes him several seconds before he briefly shakes it. “And you must be Mr. Bonner.” It’s my turn to shake her hand.
“I’m Sherry, and I have a lot to show you and for you to try on. First, I would like to get your measurements, so if you wouldn’t mind changing into the robe provided, we can get started.”
I look over at Declan, who has taken a seat on the couch. He picks an olive and pops it into his mouth. “You can’t be serious with this, Declan.” He only reaches for more of the food being proffered.
“I am, Xavier. Now go change.”
I take a deep breath and head to the changing area.
There’s no reasoning with him, so I’ll do it and get it over with.
I strip down to my underwear. Thankfully, they’re a newer pair of boxer briefs.
I can’t imagine how embarrassed I would have been if I’d worn one of my ratty pairs. I slide the silk robe on and step out.
There are two more people in the area—one older man with a measuring tape and a younger guy with a tablet.
Sherry gently grabs my elbow and leads me to the little raised platform.
“This is Edward and Cyrus. They will take your measurements for your suits and any needed alterations. I’ll hold your robe for you.
” She holds out her hand, and I oblige. I know my face has to be red; I can practically feel the heat coming off my face and neck.
I’m not ashamed of my body or anything like that.
I keep in shape. I run three to four times a week and do yoga with Jess.
My body is what most would consider a swimmer’s build.
I am thin but not skinny. My chest and abs have definition.
I’m just a little uncomfortable being half-naked in front of strangers.
I close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere else.
Edward measures me everywhere and calls out the results to Cyrus, who dutifully enters them into his tablet. It seems to take forever. I hear Declan say “Hello,” so I turn and see him talking to someone on his phone. He stands and walks to the other side of the room.
“I need to grab the shoe sizer, excuse me for a moment,” Edward says, almost to himself. That just leaves me and Cyrus standing there—Sherry’s busy putting clothes in the little changing area.
“You really do have a fantastic physique. Who do you model for?”
“What?” The question catches me off guard. He can’t mean he thinks I’m a professional model, can he?
“I asked who you worked for. I don’t remember seeing you in any print ads. You would think that, with your striking features, I would. Or do you do runway?”
“I’m not a model.” I laugh. “Is that part of the service here? To suck up to the customers with flattery?” I’m upset by him, but I think it’s funny that he would say it.
“I’m not the one you need to blow smoke up their ass,” I point at Declan, “He’s the one that’s the customer and the one with the money. ”
Cyrus looks over at Declan, who has his back to us, and then back at me. “I wasn’t blowing smoke, as you put it. I was serious. I really did think that you were a model. You have the looks and the body for it. You’re gorgeous.” I laugh again, but stop when I see the look on Cyrus’s face.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes. You are missing your calling. I see lots of guys come through here that pay money and still don’t achieve what you have naturally.”
“Thank you.” I hear the sincerity of his words, and it makes me feel good. I know that I’m not ugly, but to have someone say something like that to me does wonders for my self-esteem. I’m standing a little taller when Edward returns to finish up with me.
“The suits and the tuxedo will be ready next Friday. You will need to come back for a final fitting by Wednesday.” What the fuck? Suits as in plural and a tux. What will I need a tux for? Momentarily stunned, I don’t have a chance to say anything before Edward and Cyrus walk off.
“Why don’t you have a seat, Mr. Bonner, and have some refreshments.
I am just finishing up some changes to the pieces that I had ready for you to try on.
Now that I have seen you in person, I am going with a different palette.
” Sherry motions to the sofa. I nod and sit in the chair closest to Declan.
I grab the glass of wine that has been poured for me.
I drink it so fast that I don’t have a chance to taste it at first. Declan has a scowl on his face when I finally look up at him.
“What?”
“What was so fucking funny when you were talking to him?”
I know exactly who he was talking about, even though he doesn’t say his name. I saw the glare he shot our way when I was talking with Cyrus.
“He thought I was a model.” I snort and reach for some of the cheese on the table.
“I thought so too when I saw you dancing.” My hand is halfway to my mouth when I stop. There is no way in hell that this Adonis of a man thought that about me. I snort again in disbelief.
“Maybe I should look into that as my next career,” I say as a joke.
“No.”
“What? What do you mean, no? That’s not a decision for you to make.” Yeah, I’m joking when I said it, but now he’s pissing me off. He’s so bossy.
“I mean no. I don’t want people to stare at you like that. You’re mine.” Here we go again with the ‘you’re mine’ shit. I’m just about to say as much when Sherry interrupts us.
“Mr. Bonner, if you would. I have the first two outfits ready for you in the changing area.” I notice that another young lady behind her is wheeling in a large rack. This is ridiculous. But getting it over with is a faster way out than arguing with Declan.
In the changing area, I find what I would consider dressy, but by their standards, it is probably business casual. The gray slacks and V-neck T-shirt are the softest clothes I have ever put on. I really look at myself in the mirror. I have to admit that I look fucking good.
“Do you need any help? How is the fit?” I hear Sherry call out.
“They fit great. I’ll try on the second set and be out in a minute.”
“Don’t you want to come out and see yourself in the full-length mirrors?”
“No, thank you. I can see just fine in here.” There is no way I am going to parade myself out there in front of Declan. It’s bad enough that I am doing this at all. I let out a little yelp when the curtain is yanked open. Declan stands there eyeing me up and down.
“Turn around.” He commands.
“Fuck you, I won’t.” I protest. Never taking his eyes off me, he tells Sherry to give us a minute.
I hear her retreating footsteps. Who the hell does he think he is?
I cross my arms over my chest in defiance.
Declan steps closer to me and closes the curtain.
Next thing I know, my back is pressed against the mirror, and Declan’s hand is once again around my throat. Why do I like this so much?