Page 9 of Driving Beats

Maybe this day won’t be as bad as I have been envisioning it.

4

NESE

The nice saleswoman allows me to leave our lattes on the front counter and shows me new items from the upcoming season’s line, all of which will be flattering on Coop. Heck, anything made in this decade is bound to be a big improvement, even if it doesn’t fit him.

“Do you think he’ll look good in pastels? Some gorgeous shirts that just arrived are over here.” She points toward one side, which exposes her nametag.

I tilt my head, considering CeeCee’s question. “He should wear more deep, jewel tones in a regular cut. Not slim. He has an average sized torso and shoulders. His arms are more developed, though.” Because he plays the guitar, but I don’t mention this in the chance he wants to keep his identity quiet. I pat myself on the back for my discretion.

“In that case, let me show you these, made of the finest cotton.”

We walk over to the far wall, filled with beautiful fabrics that I run my fingers over. “Ooh, I love these. I bet they feel amazing on the body.” I select a few shirts for Coop to try.

CeeCee nods. “That’s what my boyfriend says.”

“I'm sure he’s the best-dressed boyfriend around.”

We both laugh.

“Now, I have to be candid with you. While we have a superior selection of clothing, we’re lacking in things like belts, shoes, and jewelry. I don’t know why, but these pieces aren’t part of our inventory.”

I appreciate her honesty. “I’ll definitely keep this in mind. Because he lost his luggage, we need to replace everything, so we can start here.”

“You’re in the best place to get his capsule wardrobe.” She glances around. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

I check my watch as the bell above the door chimes. “Right on time.”

We begin walking toward the front of the store, where Coop stands alone. Dropping all my finds onto a wingback chair, I throw caution to the wind and give him a hug. “You’re here!”

His arms wrap around my body in a whisper of a hug. “I told you I would be.” He steps back.

I punch his shoulder. “That’s the spirit.” Ducking to a counter, I hand him his latte, which he takes with a grateful nod. Addressing CeeCee, I introduce her and then we start a tour of the store. “Do you like pullovers?”

“They’re fine.”

I select one. “And button-downs?”

He stops. “I’m not going into an office.”

I glance at CeeCee, who picks up for me. “Well, they look good by themselves or even under sweaters in cold weather, over jeans. They’re not only for going to a nine-to-five job anymore.”

Coop fiddles with his sunglasses frame. “I guess I can try one on.” He mumbles something under his breath.

“Huh?” I need to know what he’s thinking.

“Nothing,” he replies, pointing to the pants.

My fingers touch my eyebrow piercing, and I remind myself that this grumpy old man lost his luggage and had no desire to buy new clothes. Whatever the reason, he’s here now and I want to make him present the best way possible. I move us over to the side. “I don’t remember seeing you in anything other than jeans. How about khakis?”

His jaw twitches. “I’m usually in jeans. You even have me in jeans for our gigs.”

He’s right. I do. Because they’re ripped at his thigh and accentuate how he plays guitar. More like makes love to it, causing women to scream. “Which reminds me, did you bring photos of your favorite clothes? I didn’t get a text from you.”

“Oh, crap. I forgot.”

Of course he did. “Well, no bother because I’ve seen how you dress on the buses and traveling. I’ll simply keep choosing things for you, and you can give me your opinion.”