The Writer's Assistant (ManxMan)

Chapter 10: The Boutique

A/N: Oct 6, 2022

It's fall 🍂 Please leave a vote on this chapter and the previous one! 100 and something more votes and we're getting a bonus chapter 👀

Question: Describe Oliver with one emoji.

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"Daniel White?" squealed a voice. A wide smile pulled up my face when I saw Cassandra running toward me, her heels clicking against the perfectly polished floor. She held my arms and gave me two French kisses on the cheek but noticed Oliver standing behind me. Cassandra gasped.

"Olala, who is this handsome man?" she asked in her strong French accent.

"Cassandra, meet Oliver Carlson, the man I'm working for. Oliver, meet Cassandra Leseize, a stylist and friend who has worked with lots of famous brands."

"Oh, you flatter me," she gushed. "Is Oliver a model like Aaron?"

I stiffened when she immediately brought up Aaron. It felt like my ex was haunting me wherever I went. We used to come to this boutique to get his suits and outfits tailored.

"I'm a writer," Oliver said, and Cassandra raised her thin brows.

"Oh, a writer," she hummed. "Have you ever thought about modeling?"

"Yes, but I love food too much," Oliver said. Cassandra laughed as if it was the funniest joke she'd heard. Little did she know, Oliver did love donuts, cheese, and anything diabetic. How he managed to keep his modelesque body and six pack was still a mystery. Cassandra turned toward me.

"With a face like that, he could surely make himself a career in the modeling industry. Maybe you should book him a photo shoot," Cassandra winked. "So, what are you men looking for today? We have some in-season suits, timeless ones on your right, and some unique outfits in the back."

"Do you have anything comfortable?" Oliver asked, looking around. "Like sweatpants that won't make me feel fat after eating a sandwich?"

Cassandra laughed her high-pitched laugh.

"Oh mon dieu, Oliver, you are so funny," she giggled until she realized Oliver wasn't joking. She turned toward me as if she was asking for some help, and I quickly stepped in.

"Oliver, what about something a bit fancier?" I suggested gently, and Oliver pursed his lips, deep in thought.

"We could make them Gucci sweatpants."

"How about this?" I asked, picking out a black suit. I often went shopping with Aaron whenever he had a photo shoot or an interview, so I knew what the other celebrities were wearing. This one was the same one I'd picked out for Aaron during one of his most important interviews. It looked so well on him that almost all the celebrities immediately ordered one after photos of him were released on the internet. The designer personally contacted Aaron to thank him, and they even signed an advertisement together.

People thought all black suits were the same, but each had its own little designs and particular traits. Black suits were a formal attire staple, and they could easily look different depending on the shirt and tie you wore. This was was special.

"How about you try it on?" I asked Oliver.

"That ugly thing?" he scowled. "It's so... Colorless."

"It will look perfect on you!" Cassandra said. "If you'd like something with color, we also have it in navy blue."

"Do you have hot pink?"

Cassandra just laughed, handing him both the black and navy blue suit. She then ushered him to the changing room, excited to see him in the suit. We both waited outside, but after fifteen minutes, he still wasn't out. Another customer entered the boutique.

"Could you check up on him and let me know when you need me?" Cassandra asked. "Maybe Oliver is having problems with his suit."

"I'll check."

While Cassandra went to tend to the other client, I gently knocked on the door.

"Oliver? Are you still alive?" I inquired lightly. "What are you doing in there?"

"I'm trying to find a secret passageway."

A silence followed.

"Oliver," I prompted again. "Do you need help?"

He didn't answer.

"May I come in?"

"The door isn't locked."

I pressed my lips together and opened the door. I sucked in a tight breath when I saw him sitting on the velvet cushion couch, his long, muscular legs stretched out before him. The light above made him look gorgeous, every muscle in his body carved under smooth shadows. The black pants seemed to fit him perfectly, but his shirt was left unbuttoned, exposing his bare torso.

"Why didn't you button your shirt?" I asked, staring into his eyes and trying not to let my gaze wander.

"Too much trouble."

"You can't go to the interview with an undone shirt."

A mischievous smile etched on his lips that read: watch me.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't tell if he was joking or not. From what I've gathered during the first week of working for him, Oliver was capable of doing anything.

"People are going to stare," I mumbled.

How will they not stare at his rock-hard abs and chest?

Oliver's brows shot up, and I felt horror creep over my shoulders.

"Did I just say that out loud?" I whispered weakly.

"That people won't be able to resist my rock-hard abs and chest?" he grinned. "Loud and clear."

My face reddened, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to disappear.

"It's okay to have a gay panic attack," he reassured me, and my eyes flung open.

"I'm not having a gay panic attack!"

He raised his hands as if to surrender, but I felt like I was still the one at a loss. I held back a sigh and tried to focus.

"Can you please button up your shirt to see if the shirt fits?" I asked.

"Only if you do it for me." I thought he was kidding until he raised his arms and said, "Dress me, peasant."

I gaped at him. Was this guy really my boss? Whatever, the quicker it's done, the faster we can go home. I went up to him, and just like the first day we'd met, I stood at eye level to his nips. Except for this time, I could actually see them. I slowly did his buttons one by one, but I could feel his burning gaze on me. Why was he staring at me? And why did it suddenly feel so hot?

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Things are about to get spicy 🫂

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I love how everyone loves Oliver 🤣 a cat loving king 🙏🤲