The "Stylist" | Book I in a Series of Mistaken Identities

NEGOTIATIONS

Charles

Shopping has never been my forte, and it's usually Laurie's job to find gifts for family or clients. I will say shopping with Valerie was a lot more fun than I expected, maybe because it was the first time we really got to spend time together and got to know one another a little better. We weren't really doing much shopping either, Valerie just kept asking questions about me and my life, I could see they were all somehow linked to Laurie. She really is trying to get to know her.

I told her about my childhood growing up in Japan. Being only half Japanese with blonde hair and blue eyes, I was often socially ostracized and there was plenty of family drama to go around. I decided not to sugarcoat anything or lie to Valerie, and the blatant truth didn't seem to bother her one bit. In fact, she seemed all too familiar with family drama, and I learned about her parents' interesting relationship.

Valerie takes a top off one of the nearby clothing racks and looks it over, "What are your thoughts on open relationships?"

I know an open relationship is definitely not for me. The idea of Valerie being kissed or pleasured by another man is enough to drive me up the wall, "I've never been good at sharing."

Valerie puts the top back, "Yeah, me neither. Cheating's a bit of a deal breaker."

Most of the time we were so engrossed in our conversation that I barely registered how Valerie would lift clothing up to me to check my size, or if the color was acceptable, or when she put sunglasses on my face, and I'd just keep talking. Her questions came from such a bizarre place that at some point I had to have her explain her train of thought that led to some of her questions. The way this woman's mind works is captivating.

I didn't notice how late it was until my phone rang and saw the time. As I listen to my partner Hank talk about a property we're looking at in Harlem I watch Valerie wander around the ladies' intimate section. I don't know how we ended up here, but she picks up a little red lace number and looks it over casually before putting it back. I casually lean on one of the racks, half listening to Hank as I watch Valerie's eyes land on something she must like. She picks up an emerald-green, velvet set with some gold rhinestone buckles. "Matches your suit," she whispers and puts it back on the rack smiling to herself.

"Hank, can you add a plus one to the weekend thing for me?... Is she hot?" Valerie looks up at me from her perusing, "No, she's awful, cross-eyed, has a weird lisp, and smells like cheese. Has a great personality though." Valerie sniggers and keeps looking around. Once I'm done talking with Hank, I find Valerie at the register just finishing up a purchase, "Valerie, it would be an honor if you would accompany me this weekend for a little trip."

"Thanks," she says to the sales assistant as she takes her bag. She looks at me, "And I'd be going as, what, your personal shopper?"

"Well, it's a wedding so I would need you to acquire a decent gift, but you would be going as my date."

Valerie scoffs and puts on her sunglasses, "I have two shoots on Saturday, but you have fun with the cross-eyed, cheese girl, she sounds like a real hoot."

I take her hand and guide her into my arms. She feels good here, like she belongs, "Please Mel, go with me."

I see the wheels turning in her head, there's undoubtedly something mischievous going on in there, "Fine, but I get to pick your suit."

Oh-oh, this sounds dangerous. I've worn some interesting outfits in my day, some bordering on crazy, but if that's what it takes to get Valerie to accompany me for a weekend away in the Bahamas, then I'll do it.

"Fine. I'll send you my tailor's details," by the look of the smirk on her face I can tell I'm in for more than I bargained for.

"You can let go of me now," her protest is a little half-hearted.

I pull Valerie in closer, "An astute observation."

I notice the corners of Valerie's lips tug as she resists a smile. I start to sway to the music playing in the store. Valerie sighs resigning and follows my lead.

I'm so mesmerized by her I don't care who sees us like this. Her waist feels so small pressed against me, it sends my imagination wild. I want to feel her bare skin on mine and see her face as she responds to my touch.

When she looks up at me, her sultry eyes are dark, and I feel her breathing hitch. Her thought's must be getting just as steamy as mine. Before the tension gets too thick I take a deep breath and try to simmer things down. "We still haven't discussed your rates," I clear my throat; my voice is raw and deeper than normal.

"A hundred by the hour, including all expenses," she whispers.

"Done. Send Laurie your invoices, she'll forward them to accounting."

Valerie sniggers, "Some negotiator you are."

I lean in closer to Valerie, her scent is so intoxicating I find myself unable to resist running my nose up her neck. The way she pulls me closer by my shirt and moans challenges my self control. "It's only fair, after all, I did get you fired from Fashion Week," I mumble into her neck.

I feel Valerie's hands glide up my chest. She grabs a fistful of my shirt and pushes me away a little, making me look at her, "Do you always allow your personal feelings to influence your negotiations?"

"Not usually, no."

I can't do this anymore.

I lean in to kiss Valerie but the moment I inch closer her fucking phone rings and she wriggles out of my arms to find it.

"Excuse me please," Valerie answers the call, "Hey, fanny fart, I'll call you in ten," she hangs up and looks at me. "It's been a real slice Charlie, but I gotta run. Thanks for the consultation, I'll send Laurie my bill."

Valerie turns on the spot and walks away leaving me in the middle of the department store all alone, pent up and craving more.

Looks like it'll be another afternoon at the gym to work out my frustrations.