Composing Love

“Nevermind. You were telling me why I should change my clothes for this meeting.”


He was avoiding her question. For the second time today, it felt like he was throwing up a wall between them to keep her in her place, or-or—

Or perhaps to protect himself.

The thought jarred her. The thought, and the subsequent desire she had to protect him, too. To keep him from harm, as though she actually cared for him.

“Look, you can be honest and tell me what you think. You don’t have to be scared.”

Scared? She wasn’t scared.

Was she?

She forgot about the fleeting thought that Chris was trying to protect himself, somehow, and gave him what he’d asked for. Honesty. “Even if people don’t want to admit it, being too different is a disadvantage if you want to get ahead. And your clothes are definitely different.”

“Different is a disadvantage?”

Was it just her, or was that pity in his voice? Like she was somehow missing out on something by believing that? She fought the urge to explain to him that she had tried it once, to be different, and she had learned the hard way that her parents had been right all along. It was a disadvantage.

But she didn’t want to get into that right now. It would mean that too many of her emotions would be engaged, and she was already too involved. Instead, she focused on being professional. Rational. Staid…

She sighed. “Making an effort for an investor isn’t the same thing as letting someone tell you what to do. Wearing something a little more mainstream for this meeting is a sign of respect, not capitulation. If you’re serious about your business and the success of this movie, why not dress like it?”

For a long moment, there was silence on the other end of the line. Had she overstepped her bounds? Was he going to rescind the job offer? Maybe it was for the best. Maybe—

“What should I wear, then?” Like before, he sounded like he actually cared. That maybe she was getting through to him, at least on some level. The prospect thrilled her, made her heart race faster, but she pulled herself together and strove for a polite, neutral tone. “How about that suit you had on the other day when you came with Daria to look at the apartment?” And then whatever devil had gotten into her lately made her add, “Except maybe put a real shirt on underneath it.”

Shut up. Just shut up! She was acting in ways that she wasn’t supposed to act. All the polite rules she’d learned growing up were somehow flying out of her mind and leaving some completely different person behind.

Different.

What is wrong with you?

He was wrong with her. Chris. Pulling some weird version of herself out and making her say things she’d never consider even thinking about someone else.

But he just snorted. “You want me to conform to some stupid dress code and look like everyone else? How is an investor supposed to believe that I have anything cool or different to offer if I look like I got stamped out in a boring corporate suit factory?”

Now it was her turn to laugh in disbelief. “You have an eyebrow spike and a neck tattoo. A neck tattoo. But even if you took out the jewelry and covered the ink, you still have that look. Like I said, you don’t have to worry about standing out.”

“Hmm.”

Oh, goodness. That sound. It made her think of a sleepy, naked Chris, making sounds of appreciation as she—

“You seem awfully concerned with the way I look.”

Of all the—“You’re the one who brought up my clothes earlier for no good reason. At least this is relevant!”

“Yes, but you seem to think that somehow the way I look makes me not respectable, while I know that the way you dress makes you look stuck up.”

The words were insulting, but she could hear in his tone that he was teasing her, and she found herself actually enjoying it. Shit. Was she starting to actually like him? She rolled her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see it, and grinned. “You are such a—”

“Now now.” She could hear the answering smile on his face. “Don’t go saying anything that a good, rule-abiding girl like you might come to regret.” Before she could come up with a good retort, he went on. “I’ll consider wearing the suit. And I’ll see you Wednesday morning. Nine o’clock.”

And then the line went silent.

So, he was going to consider it?

Interesting.



Minh had better not say a word about his clothes.

After Chris had hung up with her on Monday afternoon, he’d spent way more time than he should have on debating whether he should change into a suit. In the end, he’d run back home and changed, then raced to the investor meeting just in time. He had to admit he wouldn’t have considered his clothes if she hadn’t suggested that they might be hurting his chances at getting investors on board.

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