Preston Forest Shopping Center
The Preston Forest Shopping Center is large and classy. The entrance is open and spacious, a rectangular fountain surrounded by potted trees leading up the middle of the mall, with pathways on either side for shoppers. One can easily see both floors from here and the lighting is amazing - beside the typical electric bulbs, the roof is comprised of glass allowing the sunlight to filter in.
Shops and businesses spread out here both east and west as well as to the back of the mall. Hidden away in the back corner one can find the escalator to the second story, as well as washrooms and a bank of payphones.
It was during work that Sean dropped the innocuous little comment that, once they left the office, he was going to drop by the nearest Men's Warehouse and buy himself a brand new suit. It was also during work that he regretted the comment, as it immediately spurred a response from Miss Savoy, who offered to tag along as a fashion consultant. Naturally, he accepted, but not without being quite flustered about it.
And so, the time is now. Sean and Mignonette stroll through the mall in search of the ubiquitous store, the tall man with his head bowed a little and his hands in the pockets of his baggy slacks in a self-conscious manner. "Y-you didn't have to come, you know. But, thank you for offering to, Miss Savoy. It's a real treat."
—-
"Mignonette. There's no reason to stand on formality, you know." The woman, thus naming herself, seems much more at ease than the slightly older man walking beside her, "I wanted to come. And I love to shop. A genetic trait I'm sure I inherited from my mother." She pauses, "You needn't be self conscious around me. Believe me, you have nothing to be embarrassed about." She pauses, before she continues, "Do I make you that uncomfortable?"
—-
Though this may be the case now, Sean wasn't always quite so fortunate. As it is, he is still in the process of getting comfortable in the new skin he's in. It should not come as a surprise the furious blush that crosses his cheeks when she points out just how awkward and self-conscious the man is, and his smile becomes rather shy and sheepish. "I…sorry." He offers. "Mignonette. Oh! It's not that you, ahh, make me uncomfortable or anything. It's not you, I swear. I'm just… I mean, you have to agree. You're an…an intimidating figure. Smart, successful, se-…attractive." Calling your boss 'sexy' probably isn't the smartest move to make.
In the end, the pair end up finding their way. And after glancing around to the people filing out of the formalwear store, he allows his eyes to trail over to her person and nods towards it. "Well…shall we?"
—-
"I'm just a girl from the backwaters of Louisiana, Sean." Not that Baton Rouge is a backwater, but people do tend to think her accent means she lives in a swamp and eats roadkill. She knows. "And I'd like to be your friend, if you'll let me." Not that the compliment doesn't get a blush of her own, "But you're kind to say that, but really, when you get to know me, I'm as normal as they come. Just ask Alex…he loves to tell all of my embarrassing stories." She moves to enter the store, already looking ahead to the racks, as she holds the door to allow you to follow, "We shall. I'm thinking Michael Kors, to start."
—-
There is a bark of laughter from Sean, sheepishly finding himself coming to some sort of uneasy peace with his naturally twitchy nature. "Yeah, well, I guess that makes me just the Momma's boy from upstate New York. And…I'd like that, Miss Sa- I mean, Mignonette. I'd like it very much so." When it comes to the suits and labels, Sean is positively lost. Ducking his head lower in a more sheepish manner, he tags along behind the woman, intent on sticking close-by. She ought to be able to protect him…right? "Who? I mean…sure."
—-
"Alex, my cousin, he heads security." Mignonette, seeing the man is a bit out of his depth does what she feels would be the most appropriate, and heads for the section where the suits are set out by maker, "I always liked Michael Kors. The cut of his suits are always quite eye-catching." She moves, honing in like a bee to honey, as she starts going through the racks. "You know, you're just about Alex's size, so this shouldn't be too hard, and we can get them tailored for you so they fit you perfectly." She reaches up for a dark blue and an almost black grey, turning and offering them to you. They're two slightly different cuts, "Let's try this these two to start. We'll work on shirts, ties and accessories once we have a good idea of what style really compliments you."
—-
"No, I meant…nevermind." Sean had originally questioned the identity of 'Michael Kors', but after reading the name over the racks of suits, he's figured it's a designer such as Tommy Hilfiger. His hands reluctantly pull out of his protective pocket in order to grab hold of the two suits, looking positively lost. "I…like the colors." He offers, before nodding in recognition. His jacket, light as it is, is shrugged off and allowed to drop to the floor without a care in the world before he begins to shrug on the coat of the bluer model. In the end, the sleeves are a bit short, and there isn't enough give in the shoulder area, but it sits upon him nicely. "Well…?"
—-
Mignonette purses her lips, watching you put on the suit, and it doesn't fit well at all. I mean, it looks nice, but, "You're a bit broader in the shoulders. No matter," she turns around, moving to get the next size up, "We can take away material, but we can't add it. And the colours really compliment you. I always find black is a bit too morose. Blues, greys, they really make you seem much more approachable. Let's get you to the fitting room, so you can try everything on, we have to make sure everything sits right, before we tailor." She grabs another, this one a dark, rich dark chocolate brown. "Don't worry, I'll be right outside."
—-
"Oh. Okay," Sean travels along idly, licking his lips in a ginger fashion before shrugging off the failed suit coat and replacing it on the rack. "Heh…that's something I've always had to deal with. Not like this though," he admits about being broad in the shoulders. When it comes to suit colors, blue eyes inspect her in a way that Sean hopes is stealthy and understated. "Oh…well, yeah. But, nothing beats a nice cool black suit…right? I ought to have at least one to complete my collection. Honestly, I never much paid any attention to color or cut or…I'm kind of fashionably challenged, I suppose."
Wandering over to the fitting room, he offers her a faint smile and a nod of his head. "Alright. I'll…ah…be right out, okay? Once I've…you know. Got pants on and all."
—-
Mignonette really is in her element, and it shows. Her demeanor is open, and friendly, and she's very much the woman she always is and not the lawyer she's been brought up to be. As she follows you towards the dressing room, she hands off the suits, before she goes to settle into one of the open seats, "Of course we can get you something in black, we can even get you a tux, which you'll need for the reception in a few weeks." Yes, she's talking through the door, and yes, she failed to mention the reception for the opening of the office, though you probably have heard about it through office gossip.
—-
It's a difficult switch to get used to - from professional to personal. This likely explains Sean's difficulty with handling his new employer. But after a little while, after zippers are undone then done up, after the ruffling of cloth on cloth, the man's voice breaks the silence. "I…uh. I think I'm good now." And so, like that, the door is unfastened and pushed open.
Sean reveals himself then in the dark grey suit, which happens to fit quite nicely and quite classically. He looks pleased with it, and though the pants need to be taken in a bit, the end result is that he's quite well put together. "So…? What do you think? Be honest now. And - oh…the reception?"
—-
Mignonette remains in her seat, as you walk out, giving you a once over from a distance, as if she were getting a feel for how you'll look in a public setting. And then she rises, moving closer, to give you a decided once over. "You look amazing. It really sits nicely on you, we'll hardly need to have any work done on it. And you're sure you like it? One thing my mother taught me, is that if you don't absolutely love it in the store, you won't wear it when you get home." A nod, at the last, "To welcome clients and potential clients, you know, get word out, press palms, get us established."
—-
Sean lifts his hands to his lapels, rearranging his jacket beneath Mignonette's discerning eye. He's buoyed by her praise. Though it prompts a slight redness to appear on his features. His smile is broad and warm, exceedingly pleased. "I'm sure you just say that to all your employees," the man teases, before stopping to look down at himself with a quirk of his brows. "I…yeah. I like it." It is only then that he reluctantly lifts his eyes to meet with hers. "The reception…okay. I assume it's required, mhmm? And that I'm not required to dance - because that might scare away our prospective clients…"
—-
Mignonette returns the smile, reaching out to brush at your shoulders, to straighten the fabric out, or, well, she almost does, pulling back at the last minute, likely deciding that that might be too familiar. Alex she wouldn't have a problem with, but you get the idea. "I don't, actually." Laugher bubbles up as she steps back and away from you, to give you room to move and look at yourself in the mirror, "No dancing, but it is mandatory. You're welcome to bring a date, it's formal attire, so you will need that tux."
—-
Sean catches her little slip up, and as a result, it increases his ease. Staring at Mignonette with unhibited intensity, he gives his lips a tentative lick, before curling his mouth into a curvy smile. "Thank you," he murmurs to her gently, though what he's thanking her for is not verbally offered. But then, she's stepping away, and he turns to inspect himself in the reflective surface. "Erm. I don't think I'll be bringing a date, but you're the boss." He admits simply, turning around and looking over his shoulder to see just how he looks from the rear.
—-
It's like a staredown, for a lingering moment, Sean staring at her, Mignonette staring at him, before her eyes trail down to his mouth, and again that hint of colour under her tan and she takes another step back, "It's not required, I just meant if you have a girlfriend, or a friend that you'd want to accompany you, it's allowed. It's not employees and clients, or potential clients only." A tilt of her head, "Yes, you keep pointing that out." She settles back into the chair, legs demurely crossed, "I'm going to have so much fun with accessories. How do you feel about pastel colours?"
—-
It's a good thing Sean doesn't catch Mignonette's further retreat, or the flush on her cheeks. For if he did, he would no doubt be sent into further episodes of doubt and self-consciousness. Her words earn an innocent laugh from Sean. "I barely have friends here, never mind a girlfriend. Uh. Not that I have girlfriends anywhere else, I mean…I…I mean, I have had one. But she broke up with me a year or two ago because of my work ethic. I - I keep pointing out what?" Curiously, his eyes shoot over to her, and he slides his hands into his hands. "Pastels…uhm. Alright. I mean, I…I trust you. Do whatever you think would be better."
—-
Mignonette is quite comfortable where she is, though she does lift a hand to shoo the man back into the dressing room so she can see the next suit they've picked out, "I'm sure you have." A beat, "It's difficult, isn't it? Finding someone who understands that you have to do the work, that you have to put in the hours, that you can't always talk about your day when you come home." Her voice is soft as ever, but there's a hint of something there. Yes, she knows the feeling, "That I'm your boss." As he accedes to her idea, "See, most men I know, refuse to wear pastels, but to me, showing that you can wear a softer colour and really wearing it well is a sign of self-confidence."
—-
Sean glances over his shoulder to the woman, before letting out a soft chuckle and heading off into the fitting room. The door is shut behind him, but he proceeds to speak. "Sure I have what? And…well, yes. It's difficult, explaining the roll justice has in my life. Explaining the fact that if I don't do everything I can to help my client, that it weighs upon my…soul, you know? I think a couple of hours overtime for me is a fair trade for letting an innocent man off scott free. Oh - and heh. Well…I'm just not used to spending time outside of the office with my superiors. I'm…ah, sorry."
When he reveals himself, he is in the brown suit. It doesn't fit quite as well as the last, and the blond man is frowning slightly, plucking at his sleeves. "So…what do you think?"
—-
"I'm sure that you've had girlfriends before." Mignonette clarifies, as she waits for him to come out with the next offering. "When I'm at work, I'm your boss, when we're off the clock, I'm still your boss, but it's not, eh, in your face. Like Alex, he's my employee too, but at the end of the day, he's my cousin." When he does, she again rises from her seat, a frown very similar to his darkening her expression, and this time, her hands to rise, plucking at the suit to try to make it fit more acceptably, but it's a lost cause. "Well, it's not sitting well on you, and I don't think that can be fixed, even if we go up a size, but I'm more concerned with the colour. It looked great on the rack, but it washes you out, there's no pop." The frown fades, and her eyes brighten, "You go try on the last one, and I'll be right back."
—-
"I'll keep that in mind. I'm sorry. Just…it'll take some time for me to get used to it," Sean apologizes once more, sounding quite sincere as he purses his lips. But then she's judging him - or rather, the clothing. Automatically, he rolls his shoulders back, trying to draw himself entirely to his impressive height. "Oh. Uhh, alright. The blue one, yeah?" And with that, the man shuffles off, disappearing into the fitting room. More shuffling, and the man eases himself into the blue suit - the smartest and smoothest of the three. When he reemerges, he is looking surprisingly dapper, and quite pleased as he inspects himself. He waits then, for Mignonette's return.
—-
The small woman isn't long in returning, as as you step out, she's standing not but a few paces away, holding out a black pinstripe suit, which she doesn't offer right away. Instead, she takes the time to look you over, a hand doing the twirling gesture so she can see you from all angles. And she doesn't say anything, whatever comment she might make stuck halfway between her head and her mouth. Finally, a nod, "That's the one. It's perfect. And the colour is fantastic. You look very handsome, quite engaging."
—-
Sean blinks a number of times before grinning boyishly and complying with the request to twirl around. "Haha, you think so? Well, in that case, I suppose I have to buy it, huh? What with such an enthusiastic applaud and…" Beat. He just then realizes that she's complimented him so blatantly. He turns a bright red, his complexion a brilliant reflection of his lack of esteem and surprise. "I…I…t-thank you. Heh. In that case, yes. I want it."
—-
Mignonette laughs, but it's friendly, a joke shared between the two of them, "So we have the blue one and the dark grey, no to the chocolate, and let's try this one on. What we can do, is now that we know that the cut of the blue is just right for you, is we can buy the same suit in a series of colours. You'll need at least one for every day of the week, to start, plus the tux…I'll go look for that while you're changing…"And then we'll get you some shirts, ties, cufflinks. Don't say it, they're classic."
—- Scene paused.
—- The scene continues:
It's early evening, just after the end of the workday, and Preston Shopping Center is busy. People coming and going, buying and window gazing. Two such are Mignonette and Sean, who have settled on The Men's Warehouse, where Sean seems to be shopping and Mignonette it supervising…read fashion consultant. We pick up the scene in progress inside the store.
It's a brilliant afternoon, the work day having come to a close. As a result, Sean and Mignonette aren't the only one perusing designer suits for Sean's sorely lacking work closet, but they are among the more prominent. "Don't say what?" He inquires hopelessly, fashionably challenged as he is. "I…do? That's a lot of suits. I don't know if I can afford them all. How much are they, anyway?" He doesn't have the opportunity to check the tags himself, as he's already ushered back into the changing room to switch into the pinstriped suit. It's playful and more casual than the others, but still maintains that level of professionalism suits must always have. Definitely a keeper.
—-
"Did you actually -read- the contract you signed when I hired you, Sean Miller?" Mignonette's voice is light, amused, as she returns with tux in hand, just in time to hear the man's comment. "I suppose you missed the part about the unlimited expense account?" She gives him a once over, before she nods, "Yes, yes, that will do very nicely. Something playful with the shirt colour will really give it some oomph. Well, more than it has already." She offers over the tux.
—-
Sean blinks. Not once, but twice, fixing his gaze onto Mignonette's. "Well…yes, I did. Extensively, in fact. But I've always favored frugality over hedonism, really. I don't see it as a necessity, therefore I'd hate to waste company resources on shallow pleasures…" He sounds a bit uncomfortable, and he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. Reluctantly, he reaches for the tux then, looking it over. "Is this how all women shop?"
—-
"Dressing appropriate to your position and representing yourself well to both clients and to the courts and the outside offices that we work with IS in the best interests of the business. It's not hedonistic to supply yourself with what you need to do the work for which you have been hired. That is what the expense account is there for. You're new to the city and new to the job, my job is to make sure that you have what you need to get established. Jeans, t-shirts and casual clothing is your own concern. Suits and the way in which you represent my family's company is mine." She hands over the tux, before she shakes her head, "If we shopped the way more women shopped, we'd have tried on about 20 more suits already. And not liked any of them."
—-
The color drains from Sean's features as he is given the rundown on how women normally shop. It scares the man. Thoroughly. "I…usually come to the mall to buy a pair of jeans and then leave. One article of clothing at a time, nice quick and easy, so I don't get overwhelmed. I…err…me and malls don't get along, otherwise." Uncomfortable, he shuffles back to the dressing room. "Okay. Okay, that's fair enough. I just didn't want to overspend. Your kindness is remarkable already, and I wouldn't want to take advantage of it…" Here he rustles and moves, slipping out of his current clothing and into the more decadent outfit.
—-
"That's because you're a man." Mignonette's lips curl into a playful smile, as Sean gives his version of shopping at the mall. "As you've probably noticed, Sean, I'm not a terribly shy woman. If you had or were doing anything that overstepped your bounds, I would certainly tell you, but as you haven't, and as I'm here encouraging you to buy what you need, I don't think you have anything to worry about."
—-
Sean pauses, licking his lips in thought as he ends up smiling sheepishly. "Isn't that a bit stereotypical of you?" He inquires teasingly, though really he had been the first to bring up the stereotype. From behind the door, he chuckles before slinking down and sliding on the rest of the tux. When he emerges from the fitting room, it is not Sean that is standing there. Rather, it is a confident, tall man that has no associations with the attorney at all.
—-
"Oh, like you don't cringe at the thought of shopping with a woman, because you think you'll end up on purse duty, while she spends five hours in one store, probably Victoria's Secret, and comes out empty-handed." She reaches out, nudging you in the arm to get you back into the dressing room, "I am in the mood to accessorize!" But she'll wait, patiently, until she sees you step out of the dressing room, and then, well, she doesn't say anything at all. She stares, but you know, silently. Stunned even.
—-
Sean turns self-conscious as a result of all of the staring. His cool and composure, leant to him by the spiffyness of his suit, is out of the proverbial window as the shy, naturally awkward man comes out once again. Uncomfortable, he plucks at his sleeves, then lifts his hands to rub his neck uncomfortably. "I…err, what? Is it…not good?"
—-
Mignonette finally manages to catch herself, as she sees your awkwardness return, and the shake of her head is vehement, "Sean you look…gorgeous." Really, there's no other word that quite fits. The tux fits like a dream, and certainly brings out the man that Mignonette and the outside world see when they look at him and not the one Sean seems to see when he looks in the mirror.
—-
What an awkward, unfortunate choice of words. At the declaration that he looks gorgeous, Sean turns a very vivid red, eyes wide. But, fighting through the paralysis the compliment had produced, the man slowly curls his lips into a wry smile, intent on looking anywhere BUT Mignonette. "I…heh. T-thanks. Again. I'm…I'm thanking you alot today, aren't I?"
—-
Mignonette looks a bit distressed, at having made the man so uncomfortable, but she, as she always does, still tries to mitigate that awkwardness with humour, if a bit muted humour, "Would it help if I said i hated it?" And then she's quiet, her voice contrite, "I'm sorry, Sean." Somewhere along the way, she upset the man.
—-
Sean lets out a broad laugh at this point. It's not that he's upset - he's just a shy creature at heart, mild and muted, and not well-suited to accepting compliments that had never been offered to him until recently. "Heh. Maybe a little?" He teases back, shaking his head in an effort to rub away the red. But then, she's apologizing. Surprised, caught off-guard, the man stares to his shorter employer. "I…what're you apologizing for?"
—-
"For making you uncomfortable, when this should be an enjoyable experience." Well, as enjoyable as shopping can be, when it's not a passion, as it is for Mignonette. Still, she does remain muted, though the laughter is greeted with a smile, "I hate it." Then a short spot of laughter herself, before she steps back, "Well, I think we have four nice suits, and one that we can get in multiple colours, maybe that full black that you wanted. All that's left is shirts, ties and cufflinks. We're almost at the end of the marathon." A beat, "Which is fabulous, because I am starving."
—-
"Oh. Well…the least I can do is offer to buy you food. Since you've been so kind as to walk me through all this and all." Sean says. As for the explanation behind her apology, he shakes his head slowly, licking his lips to dismiss it. "No…this is enjoyable. I…I swear. I…am going to switch out of this tux…okay?" And so, the man ducks back into the safety of his stall. Once again comes the familiar process of undressing and redressing - except this time, when the door swing open, Sean is still wrestling with his polo and the process exposes a flat, surprisingly defined stomach. "Okay. Shirts, ties, and cufflinks."
—-
"That's very sweet of you, thank you." The girl's got a hollow leg, so you know she's always ready to eat. And, refusing might well make things worse. "I'll be here, bring the rest out with you when you come out." As he steps back out, back in street clothes, she does make an effort not to look, you know, being professional and all, and seems quite happy to gather up the suits, "Let's drop these off in the back, and we'll get started, head over to the ties and see if you find any that you like, I'll join you."
—-
By default, Sean falls in line behind Mignonette, a faint smile on his features as he offers to hold all of his suits, only to stop when she offers over the gameplan. "Ahh, sounds good to me, boss." He offers, chipper and pleased. Alone and out of sorts, he heads over to the ties, looking over and comparing the patterns found there. Unfortunately, as Mignonette will come to learn, Sean doesn't have much taste. The ones he seems most attracted to is a study of geometrical shapes and another that's glaringly red and looks to belong to the eighties.
—-
Mignonette makes short work of the delivery of the suits to the clerk for holding, offering to the man behind the counter, "We'll do the fitting when we're ready to check out." The clerk seems more than happy to comply, considering he's looking at making a sale well into the thousands of dollars. A smile, and Mignonette returns to Sean, making a face at the ties. "Something softer for you, some solids and some subtle patterns. Want me to see what I come up with?"
—-
Sean glances over to Mignonette out of the corners of his eyes, and he looks increasingly pleased at her presence. Almost relieved, one would say. "Yes, please! You're…good at this," his praise is littered with some awe in his tone of voice. "I'm just…out of my element, you know?"
—-
"Well, I was raised by the most fashionable woman in Baton Rouge, at least according to my father." Mignonette offers a flash of a smile, before she gets down to business. And now that things are settled on the suits, the ties go much more quickly, as the small woman moves from rack to rack, picking out a dozen ties in a variety of colours and patterns. One in particular is a rather brazen pink. "I think all of these will work. Always have twice as many ties as shirts, my father always used to say, that way you can wear close to the same thing every day, but still look fresh and new." She sets the ties into a basket she picks up along the way, and then turns towards the cufflinks, "I think we'll do regular shirts, for the most part, so normal cufflinks for those, but I want a french cuff for the tux."
—-
Note: The scene was faded at this point due to time constraints. We shall assume that they departed having found everything they were looking for and Sean is now looking much more dapper. At least at work. Mischief Managed.
