“Charity looks good, and it goes with the territory.”
“I'd go, but I don't have a suit. I actually don't even own a suit, the one I had for the wedding was a rental.”
“No suit,” I repeat, pushing my chest away from his. “If you had one, would you say yes and go with me?”
“Sure, you're the only reason I'm here. I don't really care to wander around by myself.”
“Then I know just where to take you to fix this suit problem.”
9
Mark
“I don't know about this,” I say, gripping the open edges of the jacket and looking myself over in the mirror.
“It looks good, it looks really good,” Sia comes up behind me, folds the collar down, and runs her hand down the outside of my right arm. Taking my wrist in her hand, she buttons the cuff as she looks at me. “It's like this suit was made for you.”
“She's right, Sir,” the salesman says, pulling the measuring tape off his neck and laying it against my arm. “It's exactly your size.”
“See, I told you. Made for you,” Sia encourages as she takes a step back and smiles. “We'll take it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say swiftly, holding up a hand to slow her down. “How much is this suit?” I ask the salesman.
“That one is two thousand.”
Balking, I literally gasp out loud. “Are you serious? You can't be serious.”
He nods and points a finger at a rack in the center of the room. “We have some clearance suits that range as low as six hundred.”
Stepping away from the mirror, I thin my lips. “Yeah, there's no way I can spend that kind of money on a suit. I'm sorry, Sia, but it's just too much.”
“Mark, I'm not asking you to buy it. I would never ask you to spend that much on a suit. But you're not paying for it. . .” Pausing, she pulls a credit card from her pocket and grins. “Consider it a welcome to the city gift.”
“No, I can't let you do that. It's too much. I'll probably only wear it this one time. There's no point.” Going back into the changing room, I close the door as I keep talking. “I appreciate the offer, but I just can't accept it.” Hanging the suit back on the hangers, I put my clothes back on and open the door.
Sia is standing with her arms crossed and a little smirk on her face. “Too late, it's already done. The suit is yours.”
“Siobhan,” I say, dropping my eyes to the ground and running a hand through my hair. “I just can't.”
“You don't have a choice, it's a gift. You can't say no to a gift. Besides, it fits you beautifully, that never happens with a suit. My father always has to have his tailored. Every single one has to be cut and sewn to get the type of fit you have with that one. To see you put that on and not need any adjustments means it was meant to be.”
The salesman sweeps between us, taking the suit from my hands and bagging it behind the desk. “You want to know what I think?” he asks me as he zips the cloth bag. “I think you'll learn to never argue with a woman whose made up her mind.” His brows bow high as he brings the suit back to me.
Walking out the door, I shake my head. “I can't believe you paid two grand for this suit.”
“I didn't.”
“What do you mean you didn't?”
“The owner is a friend of my father's, one call and the suit was yours.”
“Are you kidding me? He just gave it to you? Just like that?”
She gives me a flirty smile and bats her long dark lashes. “When your father is a top doctor, his biggest client, and he learns you'll be wearing the suit to a five hundred dollar a plate charity breakfast, he basically forced it on me.”
“Wow, so your family really is a big deal.”
“I guess you could say that. But you know how it is, what you see on the outside isn't always what you get on the inside. They play nice with the people that have power. Fake smiles, exaggerated laughter, quirky little jokes and stories that don't really have a purpose, all in the name of status and money.” Looking down at her phone, her eyes get wide. “Come on, we need to get back.”
Heading back to her place, the doorman gives me the same cautionary glare, but she brushes him off.
“He's not going to bite anyone, Jim, I promise.” She giggles, grabbing me around the arm and pulling me along. “Don't mind him, he's always looked out for me ever since I was a kid. It isn't personal.”
“Easy for you to say. You fit in here, I don't.”
Sia stops me, taking both my shoulders in her hands. “It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. I want you here, that's all that matters.”
I lean to kiss her, but she takes a quick step back, her eyes darting to Jim. “Not yet. We still need to keep our secret for now.”
It's hard to hear that. It feels like she punched me in the gut. She wants me here, but she also wants to hide me. It stings. Inhaling a deep breath, I push the feelings away. “Right, our secret.”
Her eyes drift around my face. I'm sure she can see and sense the discomfort I feel. I get that I'm not some rich asshole who has money to throw around, but if it doesn't bother her, why does she care what anyone else thinks?
It's her family. This is her life and you just strolled in like a dark cloud.
I get it. I understand that her family thinks one way and she thinks another. I can also understand that she doesn't want to cause a rift with them. Family is family, and that's important, no matter how difficult they might be.
Opening the door, she looks around. “They're probably in the dining room. Why don't you go put the suit in your room and I'll wait here. Then I'll take you to meet my dad.”
“Is he as kind and welcoming as your mom?”
Her smile widens sarcastically. “Even more welcoming.”
“Great,” I say with a chuckle.
Hanging the suit on the back of the bathroom door, I take a second to fix my hair and clothes. The knot in my gut hardens to stone. Swallowing hard, I clear my throat and ready myself for another awkward silent battle of playing a role.
“Okay, I'm ready to meet your dad,” I say.
“It'll be fine.” Squeezing my hand gently, she hops up on the tips of her toes and kisses my cheek, then takes a quick step back.
I follow her through the living room and kitchen, still in awe at the size of this place. I can hear voices in the hall as we approach a wide open doorway with a soft light breaking in the dark hall.
She steps in first, and I linger behind her, still partially hidden by the wall. “Hey, Dad,” she says with a sweetness in her voice. “Hey, Mom.”
Her mother doesn't greet her back, she only orders, “Tell him to come in.”
Sia looks over at me behind her shoulder, reaching out her arm and grabbing me by the wrist. Pulling me in front of her, she smiles. “Dad, this is Mark. Mark, this is my father, George Andrews.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Andrews.” Holding out my hand, I lean forward.
George hesitates for a second, his eyes looking me up and down as he thumbs the stem of his wine glass. He doesn't say a word, weakly taking my hand and giving it a light shake.