9. Sierra #2
Lights flickered on, revealing a massive warehouse that looked like it extended for miles.
“I bought this space and all the equipment in it from an older studio that was going out of business,” Finn said from behind me. “When we built the new studio, a lot of the old props and costumes got moved in here. ”
My jaw dropped as I finally climbed out of the chair, setting my sights on the rows and rows of costumes hung on metal racks. I wandered down a row, lightly running my hands over the fabrics. It was like Finn had collected my own personal version of heaven.
“Finn…Oh my God! You literally have pieces in here by Oleg Cassini! This is amazing,” I said, pausing to inspect a blouse that had probably been hand stitched back in the thirties.
Finn shrugged, unimpressed. It was clear the name didn’t mean anything to him.
“He used to design for Marilyn Monroe!” I explained. “I’ve never actually seen anything like this outside of a museum. These need to be put in a glass box!” I was so excited it took me a minute to realize I’d started babbling.
I caught myself and snapped my mouth closed, looking over a little sheepishly.
I expected Finn to have his arms crossed and be rolling his eyes at me, but to my surprise, he was smiling a little, like he was amused by my excitement.
I didn’t know how to feel about that as my stomach flipped.
“I’m floored…You’ve just been sitting on this goldmine this whole time? ”
“Well, it doesn’t mean all that much to me. But you looked like you needed a break. Maybe instead of making everything from scratch, you can save time by doing alterations on what’s here. Help yourself anytime—whether you need to actually take something or just draw some inspiration.”
My heart was full to bursting. “Finn, that’s…thank you for showing me all this.”
He waved me off gruffly, like my thanks made him uncomfortable. “Maybe it’ll help you get out of your head. ”
It was working because I was instantly in love with everything I could see, timelines be damned.
“Oh, these are gorgeous!” I said, pulling a pair of men’s pants off a rack.
“This is exactly what Tommy needs in the scene in the second act before he’s picked up by the mob.
I wonder if they’d be too flared.” I turned and stared at Finn, measuring with my eyes.
“What are you doing?” he muttered, suspicious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Try these on,” I said, thrusting the pants at him.
“What? No!”
“Yes, you’re the same build as Kaiden, and I need to see how they look.” I turned back to the rack, thumbing around for a top.
“These won’t even fit me,” he insisted, holding them up against himself.
“They’re definitely your size,” I said, staring at him. Hard.
“How can you tell?”
“’Cause I can clock a waist measurement from ten feet away. Put them on.”
Finn huffed. “Let’s at least go back to the costume shop.”
“But what if I find something else?” I reached for a leather jacket. “Like this beauty!” I pulled it close and ran my hands over the well-worn material.
“Fine,” Finn grumbled. “Turn around.”
I smirked. “I’m not looking at you.”
He walked around to the other side of the rack, glaring at me over the top of it, holding eye contact as I heard his zipper lower. I lost the game of chicken, flushing and looking away as he shoved his pants down. I could hear him give the others a shake before putting them on.
“I’m probably going to get some disease from these.”
“It’s a costume, not an old ham sandwich,” I said, licking my lips and turning away. I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t stop me from imagining .
“Couldn’t tell by the smell,” he grumbled, pretending to shiver as he yanked the pants up. He walked around the end of the aisle to show them off. “Well?”
Damn, they fit well. Really well. “You forgot the shirt,” I said, tossing it at him.
His nostrils flared in annoyance, then he started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.
I bit my bottom lip, watching as he removed his shirt and shrugged into the one I’d picked out. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his sculpted shoulders, from the cut of the muscles across his chest, from the definition of his abs. Every inch of him rippled like…God, was it hot in here?
I turned away again, swallowing hard as he finished buttoning the shirt. To distract myself, I leaned over and sifted through a box of old costume jewelry, picking up a small box full of several sets of cufflinks.
All I could think about were Ro’s dirty fantasies. Wait until I told her about this! Finn caught my eye as I turned around again. He’d put on the leather jacket as well.
“Do I pass for James Dean or what?” he said.
My mouth went dry as he leaned against the costume rack, raking a hand through his dark hair. My heart thumped so hard that the box of cufflinks tumbled out of my hand, scattering across the floor near Finn’s feet.
“Oh, shit…sorry,” I said as he kneeled to pick them up for me.
“You think this is a real sapphire?” he asked, holding one of the cufflinks up for me to inspect.
“Why do you think it’s a sapphire?”
He shrugged. “Same color as your eyes.”
I blushed at his words. I wanted to look anywhere but at him as I reached for the cufflink. I froze as my hand touched his. Our eyes locked for an endless moment, tension coiling around us. It tightened like an elastic, trying to drag us together.
Shuffle. Thump.
I glanced at the door as Finn lurched to his feet. We waited in the lingering silence, breaths held, but no one was there.
“I should get back to the costume shop,” I said, feeling awkward and embarrassed now that the moment was over.
“Yeah, I should…” he plucked at his shirt. “Change out of this.”
“Thanks again,” I said. I didn’t even stop for my chair. I just hurled myself out the door before he could see how red my cheeks had turned.