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I try to think of where I would want to go. All I’ve thought about for days is being out, being anywhere. Now that I have the option, the endless choices are paralyzing. But I know, deep down, the one thing I want to do.
Salvatore’s appointment, as it turns out, is at a men’s tailor shop in Manhattan.
When we exit the reserved parking garage, leaving the vehicles with a stationed guard, my senses are set alight. Horns honk. Sirens wail in the distance. Music pours from the storefronts.
Everything seems more vibrant, more alive than I remember. My hand curls into the crook of Salvatore’s arm. I have to catch myself, remind myself of the rules as we walk down the street together, our party making a loose formation.
Side by side, Salvatore and I draw a few looks.
The shop is just ahead, the windows dressed with handsome, exquisite suits.
“You know,” I mutter under my breath, losing the words in the cacophony, “I can still feel last night. In every single step.”
Salvatore’s stride breaks the slightest bit.
I push ahead, hiding my smile as I reach for the door. I am stopped by the closed sign hanging on the glass. Salvatore breezes past me. To my surprise, the door opens up. An array of crisp suits and tasteful ties stand on display under decadent lighting, the entire shop smelling faintly of men’s cologne. Leo waits outside, while Frankie steps in, each of them stationed up on either side of the doorway.
My eyes trail over the glittering displays of suits, ties, and watches.
“Looking for another black suit to add to your black suit collection?” I ask.
Salvatore gives me a look, but it’s cut short by the approach of footsteps.
A sharply dressed older man greets us and shakes Salvatore’s hand with familiarity.
“Mr. Mori, always a pleasure,” the man says, flashing a blinding, car salesman smile. He doesn’t address me. In fact, it’s as though he takes exceptional care to not even look my way.
“I appreciate the connect,” Salvatore says.
“Of course. This is Tatiana Molnar,” he says, drawing my eyes to a thin woman who has stepped in behind him. She reminds me of a model, with faint eyebrows and red hair, pulled back in a high, no-nonsense bun. The only thing stricter and more serious than her updo is her expression, the perpetual frown of her lips. “When I heard what you were looking for, I knew there was only one woman for a job like that.”
Tatiana steps up, extending a manicured hand to Salvatore, and then, to my surprise, to me.
Her pale eyes run up and down my body. I feel particularly judged.
“It’s an honor to work with you,” she says, her voice clipped with the hint of a foreign accent I can’t quite place.
“I’ll decide if that goes both ways. Let’s skip the formalities,” Salvatore says, “my time isn’t infinite.”
With no prompting, Tatiana begins to unbutton her shirt in front of him. He doesn’t stop her. My wild eyes dart between her and Salvatore. He doesn’t seem surprised in the least as the buttons start popping open, one by one, methodically working her way down her chest. Tatiana opens up her shirt and reveals a dark corset underneath it, cinching her waist and covering her breasts.
My mouth goes dry as he approaches her. He lowers his voice to that all-too familiar tone. All at once, I realize I have never heard him speak to another woman my age. The pain inside me flares sharper suddenly.
I want to scream at him, but what is there to scream about? I’m not his lover. I’m not even his romantic partner. I am his wife to-be. A legal definition. A means to an end. A womb in pretty packaging.
I feel sick at the realization.
I don’t know why I expected Salvatore to be mine and mine alone.
I don’t even know why it hurts that he might not be.
“Convince me,” he says to her, in that low voice that makes me ache inside.
“The external material is carbon fiber with Kevlar plates, front and back. Inside, the boning structure is customized, providing maximum protection with thin rods of galvanized spring steel, allowing for unimpeded movement and flexibility.”
Tatiana runs her fingers along the garment, showcasing its design.
“It’s rated for any caliber of handgun up to .44 magnum rounds and is resistant to stabbing. The flexible boning dispels impact force throughout the corset, minimizing soft tissue damage, and the shape protects a wide array of vital organs, including custom-fit breast cups that guard the heart.”
