by Mia Madison
Brent nodded, clearly impressed by my achievement. Many salespeople don’t reach that level until they’d worked six months to a year, oftentimes longer.
“Why Men’s Clothing?”
I took a deep breath before I answered, remembering that I came prepared.
“Handbags are a wonderful accessory, however, I’ve only owned one in my life, a python Michael Kors.”
I paused to let that sink in.
“That being said, when you combine the fact that I’ve become one of the department’s best salespeople, it speaks to my ability to sell anything, even if it’s not a personal passion.
“Men’s Clothing is not something I personally wear, but I have remarkable men in my life, including my father, my brother, and several good friends. They all appreciate the quality of good clothing.”
He nodded.
“As a woman from one of the world’s most stylish cities and coming from one of the most competitive industries where appearance is everything, I’d like to think I know a thing or two about men’s style - and what I don’t know, I’m willing to invest time to learn.”
“I can agree with that,” Brent laughed. He looked into my eyes. “Would you be comfortable selling men’s clothing? Are you comfortable working a department where you don’t know the clothes personally, but would learn from research and experience?”
For $16? Fuck yeah.
“I’m confident, assertive, and committed to serving our customers according to our core values. I understand that Men’s Clothing is generally an investment for our customers. A well-tailored suit will last a man five years or more, depending on how well he takes care of it,” I said.
“You’ve done your research,” he remarked.
“I know for a fact the men who walk through these doors are willing to invest in making the right impression in every aspect of their lives. They’ll know what they need, and simply need someone who is devoted to giving them good service help them find it. I welcome the opportunity to help our gentlemen find a distinctive image that works right for them, giving them effortless style with a timeless appearance.”
“How are you with managing people?”
“I’ve had great group leadership skills throughout college, and during my career, both here and at other places of employment. I believe in developing a personal relationship with each person on my team, and observing them to get a feel of how they operate. When you understand the different parts of a whole, it helps you create a strong and holistic management style that feels customized to the team’s needs.”
Chapter Fifteen
Misha
My interview went well. After speaking one-to-one, Brent escorted me back to the Men’s Clothing department. We roleplayed a sales scenario. He pretended to be a customer in need of clothes for work.
“I have to travel a lot for business. I need two or three pairs of slacks and a couple of dress shirts.”
“Do you need any ties?” I gestured towards the ties on the table across from them.
“We can wear them, but they’re not necessary.” He shifted. “I’m going to the men’s restroom. Pull together a few looks, and I’ll see what you’ve got in a minute.”
I was confused at first, unsure of how to pull together several outfits that best represented his style. I decided to move intuitively, and gravitated towards two pairs of slacks, one charcoal, the other black.
Sneaking a look at the mannequins, I grabbed shirts that matched the colors of the pants I pulled and several neckties. I wanted to be prepared in case he changed his mind.
Brent praised my selections.
“You’ve pretty much got the basic idea of what it takes to be in this department. It seems tricky, but you actually get to learn as you go. Men can be picky, but they’re not as picky as women. They’re just more firm in knowing what works for them. Once you understand the customer, you roll with their needs and everything flows from there.”
We shook hands before I left. He informed me that he’d be in touch, no matter what the outcome would be.
I was off for the rest of the day, and didn’t have anything to do, so I decided to go for a drive. Vanessa lived in Dallas, and since I hadn’t seen her in a while. I figured it was time to pay a visit.
Vanessa worked in a law firm close to Dallas Central Expressway. We agreed to meet at Mockingbird Station for nachos at Twin Peaks. Upon entering, I learned Vanessa was still in her office. I didn’t mind the wait, but I was starving, so I went ahead and grabbed our booth.
“You look pretty!” The hostess admired my outfit. She looked me over, gesturing towards my entire get up. “I wish I had the fashion savvy you did.”
“Oh, thank you! Believe me, it’s something that comes with time. You just have to trust yourself.” I blushed, genuinely flattered by the attention she woman gave me.
I wasn’t insecure, but the hostess was breathtaking.I didn’t consider her the type of girl to compliment another woman. She was so pretty she didn’t need to.
“That means a lot coming from a beautiful girl like you!”
I enjoyed small talk with the hostess and my server as I waited for Vanessa, who sauntered in 15 minutes later. She gasped in amazement at my appearance.
“Oh my god, Misha. You should dress like this more often,” she said, her soft, raspy voice barely above a whisper.
As we enjoyed lunch and conversation, one of the servers stopped by and set a sizzling blondie covered with ice cream on the table. “I know it’s a little early ladies, but this was sent compliments of another guest here.”
“Who?” Vanessa’s expression was a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. They were the only female customers in the bar and we didn’t like accepting gifts from strange men we didn’t know.
“I was asked not to tell you. He wants to introduce himself personally.”
“Lord.” Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“There you go attracting secret admirers again.”
I snickered at Vanessa’s frustration. Vanessa was a gorgeous and petite. She regularly captured the attention of men wherever we went. Although we were surprised at the dessert on their table, getting showered with gifts and drinks was not out of the norm for Vanessa and the women around her.
Vanessa groaned. “Don’t start. I hope he doesn’t come over here, whoever he is. I’m not in the mood, especially if he’s ugly.”
I dropped my face into my hands, rubbing the temples as if I were getting a migraine. She was going to be extremely blunt if this person was not to her liking. I felt bad. She was very honest, and I never liked seeing people get their feelings hurt after honest displays of affection.
“Ahem.” The man’s cleared his throat before continuing. “Well, I’m sorry for interrupting you day, ladies. I certainly hope you don’t think I’m ugly.”
Standing at our table was a fine specimen of a man. He was 6’2” with a chiseled build. His sharp features were accented with sharp grey eyes. His black hair was cut short, and his facial hair was tapered in a way that connected his beard with his sideburns.
Neither I nor Vanessa knew who this man was, however both our jaws dropped. We adjusted subconsciously, and I was very aware of how quickly his presence triggered moisture between my legs.
Vanessa spoke first. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry! You weren’t supposed to hear that. I was just kidding anyway.”
She blushed deeply and giggled nervously, like a child who’d been caught stealing from the cookie jar. “It’s just that I get things like this all the time, and sometimes I’m not looking to meet anyone.”
He smiled. “I understand, ma’am, but don’t worry. You’re absolutely beautiful, but I’m interested in the stunning woman sitting across from you.”
He turned his attention away from Vanessa, whose jaw dropped, and slid his gaze into mine. I fell silent and blushed with embarrassment.
“I’m Michael. And you are…?”
“Misha.” I spoke softly, carefully. I wasn’t sure if th
is was a joke, or whether that man had fallen and bumped his head. I never had seen a man pass up Vanessa, and I was sure this might be some kind of joke.
Michael grabbed my hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. “Misha, you’re absolutely beautiful. It’s truly my pleasure…”
“Excuse me.” The look in Vanessa’s eyes was clear. She was still in shock, embarrassed that I had stolen the show for once. She stood up, her face red with embarrassment. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Michael took full advantage of the moment. He slid into Vanessa’s seat, directly across from me, and looked me in the eyes. “You’re truly beautiful. Please forgive my boldness. I needed to take any chance I could to get you to talk to me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Alex
Finally finished the damn quarterly report. It took a bit of focus on my part, as I continued to feel heavily distracted by fantasies of Misha.
Fiona becoming increasingly unavailable over the past few days didn’t help either. I tried my best to get her to come over, but she always had an excuse about yoga, work, or plans with her friends.
I couldn’t help but to wonder if there was someone else in the picture. If I discovered another man in Fiona’s life, I would end things immediately. I didn’t have time to be played for a fool, especially not by a woman whose concept of a deep conversation consisted of NARS versus Bobbi Brown.
Lack of sex also drove me up the wall. Fiona’s unavailability only served to trigger stronger and stronger dreams of Misha at night. Every dream had increased passion in them, each one even more explicit and stronger than the last.
I didn’t know it was possible to dream with all five senses. But I could see, touch, taste, feel, and smell Misha in my dreams. Waking up without her next to me fucked with my head even more.
But still, I refused to allow myself to lose control. So the crazier my thoughts, the more I was convinced the decision to stay away from her was smart.
With the report out of my way, my workload would be light for the next few weeks. I’d have more free time to pursue hobbies, like boxing, watching movies, or taking road trips.
If Fiona were around, this would be the ideal moment for us to spend some quality time together.
She wanted us to work out so bad until I came back to her. Once we’d rekindled the flame, she moved right back to where she was before. If she weren’t so busy looking good for Instagram, giving basic conversation, and hanging out at the bar all the damn time, perhaps we could take things to the next level.
I accepted that we never would. We weren’t meant to. I was all right with settling for what we had so long as I was sexually satisfied. But if this sexlessness kept up, we wouldn’t last longer than a few weeks.
I possessed a high sex drive, and an even higher level of sexual self-awareness. I didn’t just enjoy sex for the recreational pleasure, but as a form of communication as well. Physical Touch was my primary love language. I learned that when Fiona had me take that Love Language quiz with her.
I could tell, just by the way a woman kissed, how into me she was. I picked up even more knowledge of her commitment and our connection by the way she received my strokes.
Women often were blown away by my performances; many yearned for more. But I abandoned quite a few, because I could feel that it wasn’t desire for me that turned a woman out. It was her desire to abandon loneliness at any cost.
Fiona wasn’t the most riveting woman, but she genuinely liked me. She’d always lock her limber legs around me, even when we made out on the couch, using them to pull me deeper and closer into her.
But then when I compared her to Misha, shit.
Thoughts of that night flooded my mind, and I unfairly compared her to Fiona all over again. Pound for pound, Fiona was satisfying, but Misha fulfilled me.
She blew my mind and she didn’t even have a chance to lock those juicy legs around me. I weakened her to the point where her legs became jelly.
And she did do something no other woman had ever done. She surrendered herself completely to me, without restraint or pretense. I could feel the submission in her body. It became soft, pliable, flexible… and downright receptive.
My cock hardened as I lay on my couch, recalling the erotic escapade from that night. It was sensual. I never used this word, because I have high expectations of sensuality, but that’s exactly what it was.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the couch. I took a deep inhale, and released a low moan as I felt blood continue to fill my shaft. I could taste the delicate flavor of Misha’s sweet nectar as if she were sitting on my face right then and there…
My mind fantasized about those thick, soft thighs wrapping themselves around my ears, her puffy lips splitting apart just enough for me to see that wet clit throbbing for my attention, pushing itself between my lips as she made orgasmic demands for me to please her.
Unable to contain himself, I closed my eyes, tugged on the waistline of my sweats, and began stroking my cock to fantasies of her, something I’d been doing more than I’d ever care to admit.
Chapter Seventeen
Misha
Yes! Brent offered me the position. He got back to me before the end of the next week. I accepted immediately, praising my good juju.
Things had been a little tight on my card payments, and I had become way too constipated from all the Ramen. The extra money would provide instant breathing room while I sorted things out.
Vanessa and I met at Pappadeaux that evening with every intention to celebrate.
“I’m so happy for you!” Vanessa squealed. “With that outfit you wore, I’m sure he couldn’t think of anyone but you to hire.”
“What can I say? A girl’s gotta kick up the charm to get my way sometimes.” I shrugged. “My finances are improving. If only my love life would follow suit.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed. I hadn’t really spoken too much about my fixation with Alex, but it was time to be honest.
“I haven’t had any solid dates since my time with Alex. I’ve been guarded, but I’m lonely. Life feels colorless at times. I spend my time wondering what my purpose is. Was it just to work a shit ton of hours, make tons of money, and that’s it? Did I mess things up by leaving New York behind?”
“Don’t feel that way, Meesh.” Vanessa’s tone was compassionate yet firm. “You’ve just had a losing streak with life. A serious one at that. We all go through life with struggles. But you already know you are not your struggles.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t help my heart from yearning. That doesn’t keep me from wanting to cry when I’m alone at night. And it certainly doesn’t help me to stop eating my weight in Ramen and Oreos because I’m stuffing my feelings.”
“When’s the last time you’ve worked out? Gone to church? Gotten outside the house to do more than just work?” She counted out a number of things. She crooked her head. “What ever happened to that guy you met at Twin Peaks last week?”
I shrugged. “I go for a morning walk everyday for about an hour. Church… well, I feel like God’s given up on me. And Michael? Bleh…”
“Bleh? Explain.” She placed her fork down and waited for an answer.
“He’s okay, I guess.” To be honest, Michael texts me everyday, and we have some good conversations, but we’ve only spoken on the phone once or twice. He has yet to invite me out on a date. It’s getting to the point where all we are, are chat buddies.”
“Ugh. What a waste.” She rolled her eyes. “You would think that he’d be more proactive after that nice little show she put on.”
I agreed. I didn’t have time for such lack of initiative, especially from a man whose Instagram account made it clear he’s ambitious and goes after what he wants. It was full of pictures of him out to dinner, traveling, and meeting people of importance. He had the time, if he wanted to. Whatever.
Vanessa shook her head. “What a waste. But anyway, drop him. God never gives up on you, but sometime
s you have to take matters into your own hands.”
“I think I will. He’s getting boring. I have no intention of replying back to his ‘WYD’ text this morning. And I agree. I’m not the type who thinks prayer itself will get me to where I want to be. I believe in the concept of behavioral congruency.”
“Behavioral what?” Vanessa looked at me like I had three heads.
“Behavioral congruency,” I repeated. “Behaving in a manner congruent with the goals I desire to achieve. When you take action that aligns with the desired outcome, you make things happen.”
“You and this business motivation shit,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You sound so programmed.”
“Hey, it works.” I stuck my tongue out at her, a playful reaction despite frustration bubbling underneath the surface.
“I know you’re a go-getter.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I meant in a more mysterious, magical way.”
“And in what way is this?”
A twinkle entered her deep brown eyes as Vanessa slapped down her credit card and told the bartender to clean out our tab. “Dinner’s on me. Follow me back to my apartment.”
Chapter Eighteen
Misha
We grabbed our doggy bags, finished the rest of our drinks and high-tailed it back to Vanessa’s place. I changed out of my work clothes and into a pair of yoga pants and t-shirt that I kept in the gym bag in my trunk.
“Okay, so what I’m about to show you stays between us, k?” Vanessa’s brows knitted, accenting the serious tone of her expression.
I waved her off. “Stop being dramatic. You know I’m not a blabbermouth.”
“I’m. Stone. Serious.” Vanessa’s intensity radiated that she meant business. I rarely saw this side of her, and quickly snapped to the occasion and pledged this wouldn’t leave my knowledge.
