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He shook his head. "No. But there, women know me. They love me." He grinned.
"Well, if not acting like a cocky jerk worked at home, it will work here too. You don't need to try so hard.” Todd patted him on the shoulder again.
"How do you feel in this?" I asked Mikael about the suit.
"I look like Mr. Marshall."
I laughed.
"What's so funny about that? I look good." Todd was not at all offended at my laughter as he looked at himself in the mirror, turning from side to side, sucking in his cheeks like he was a male model on the runway. And good golly, he was hot. He wore a suit like no man's business. But Mikael wasn’t Todd.
"I'm not sure you pay him enough to dress like you. Are those solid gold cufflinks? I bet your shoes cost more than my rent."
Todd shrugged, telling me I was right. "I was wrong about the press conference thing, so maybe I'm wrong about this too. How do you think we should dress him?"
I studied Mikael for a minute. "Well, he's a young, athletic hockey player, so I think he should dress more according to his age and his lifestyle.”
Mikael had arrived wearing faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt under a denim jacket. I decided we could stay with the style but with a few upgrades. I perused the store, grabbing a pair of dark jeans and a white shirt that buttoned at the cuffs instead of having holes for cufflinks.
Then I picked up a plain black leather coat. I returned to the men, handing the items to Mikael. "Try these."
Todd arched a brow but didn't contradict me. Mikael disappeared into the fitting room.
Todd was quiet for a minute. Then he said, "Do you think I could pull that outfit off?"
I glanced up at him, curious whether my comment about Mikael dressing his age made him feel old.
I considered teasing him and telling him no, but we had to be professional. "I'm sure you could."
He looked at me in surprise. "You think so? I'm not too old?”
"I know what we’re doing here is trying to dress up something that is messy on the inside. But when you're not messy on the inside, you carry yourself in a way that allows you to wear whatever you want."
His face split in a wide grin almost as if I'd given him a gift. He turned to look at the fitting room door as we waited for Mikael to emerge. "You could pull off that outfit as well."
My girly parts flared to life, even though the words themselves were quite benign. I thought about him imagining me in tight jeans and a leather coat. I scolded myself for this thought because I was the one who’d demanded professionalism.
"You're not messy inside, Betts,” he finished.
Those words made my insides go gooey because they were sweet. It told me he didn’t think I was hysterical or overly sensitive when I got upset the other night.
The door opened and Mikael stepped out.
"Oh, my,” I said as I took in the young athlete.
"I agree. You look like a fucking rock star, Mikael,” Todd said.
Mikael turned to look in the mirror. "I look good, yes?" Then his expression fell, and his gaze went to mine through the mirror. "But I'm not to say that, right? I need to show, not tell."
I had to hand it to him. At least he was trying.
"You can take pride in yourself, Mikael. You just can't say it like you're God's gift to women.
"But I am—"
Todd shook his head. "You're going to attract more women by being chill, Mikael." Todd looked at me. "You're not worried that this plays into a bad boy persona, are you?"
"Not if he doesn't act like a bad boy. This is the type of thing the rest of the team wears. Plus, he’s comfortable in it."
