heyyy

//

𝒢𝑒𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒 𝒫𝒪𝒱

"Welcome to the team." Techno nods with a tiny smile. I accept his extended hand that was considerably larger than mine, shaking firmly. "You start tomorrow. 8 AM."

Excitement jolts my face into a bright smile, spark plugs igniting the engine of my brain in a burst of electricity and energy. My eyes flick to Phil's, who was sending a proud fatherly smile in my direction.

Oh my god. Oh my God. I've got a job. And it's at one of the most prestigious companies in the world. Oh my God.

"Thank you. Both of you." My hands tremble with glee and I hide them behind my back, taking a calming breath. They give me a wave goodbye and I back out professionally, waiting for the door to shut before booking it down the hall.

The lift doors take so bloody long to close. My foot tapes against the decadent marble flooring as someone gets in, staring at the numbers that descend closer to the lobby. I could barely contain myself, trying to keep the shit-eating grin threatening to make itself visible, off my face.

"Good news?" Well, that didn't work.

The pretty woman with brunette hair pulled back by a shiny scrunchie directs her warm brown eyes toward me. "I just accepted a job offer." I provide, tearing my gaze from the bright numbers on the panel.

"You must be George! My name is Cara, nice to meet you." She laughs at my confusion. "You're all Phil's been talking about. He really likes your ideas."

"That's nice." That's so fucking cool. "Nice to meet you Cara."

"This is my floor, see you tomorrow then?" She asks. I nod, extending a hand. She had raised her hand in a goodbye wave so we laugh and awkwardly high-five. "Bye George."

As much as I'd like to meet my future colleagues, I'm relieved when no one else gets in. As soon as doors open to reveal the lobby, I look around, pleased to see there aren't many people mingling around in the large space. The only person that does matter, however, is shifting uncomfortably in one of those small leather seats in the waiting area, legs too long to sit properly. He's tapping his foot, scrolling through his phone without actually paying attention.

My lips quirk into a smile and I head over to him, restraining a laugh when he looks up, pretty eyes shining when they notice my expression. He stands up and I launch myself into his arms, grinning into his neck with a relieved sigh.

"Congrats Georgie." His voice glosses over my giddiness, calming me down at least for the moment. He leans down tentatively to press a quick kiss to my forehead, smiling when I rest my chin on his shoulder, relieved.

"...ahem."

We both pull apart immediately, cheeks flushing when Techno's raised eyebrow comes into view, less judgmental and more teasing. His expression smoothens into professionalism, clearing his throat again. "Sorry to interrupt ah–that."

Dream wheezes and I cover my eyes in an attempt to hide my embarrassment, failing miserably when his laughter increases in volume. Techno chuckles and I shoot a death glare at the blonde before giving my attention to the awkward man.

"Usually we give signin' bonuses with the first paycheck, but ah...Phil and I have no reservations about givin' this to you now. Congratulations George." He hands me the check, nodding at Dream before turning around, heading back to the lift.

"He'll warm up to you. Techno's really cool once you gain his trust." Dream exhales through the words. I barely register his reassurance, looking down at the slender piece of paper in my hands, hardly daring to breathe. He notices, hooking his chin over my shoulder to take a look.

"250k." I feel a bit light-headed, leaning against the taller man. "Catch me before I fall."

"Please don't." He grips my shoulders.

"I won't you idiot," I shake my head, squinting at the numbers again.

"You just said–"

"Shut up and let me look at my money."

He falls silent, laughing quietly at me. Dream takes my unoccupied hand, pulling me toward the exit. I let him lead us to wherever, staring at the neat scrawl of Phil's handwriting with an air of disbelief. He opens the passenger door and all but tosses me inside when I don't attempt to sit down. I rub my shoulder with a huff, unable to keep my annoyance with his dopey face grinning at me.

After I deposit my check into my account and convince the bank teller that I didn't rob anybody, I settle into the seat, watching Dream drive...again.

His hands flex against the soft leather of the steering wheel, tapping away at the top as we stay stagnant at a red light. He seems to know exactly where he's going, no Google Maps in sight.

He glances at me, probably feeling my stare. He looked amazing in this suit. He looks amazing in any suit, one of his many annoying qualities. But something about this one made my heart ache in my chest. The uniform shade of deep grey perfectly accented his bright eyes, fitting sleek across his shoulders. A midnight-black watch sits upon his wrist, contrasting against his sunny skin.

"Where are we going?" I ask, frowning when he misses the turn.

"Do you have a suit for tomorrow?" My eyes widen with panic and he chuckles. "We're going to go get you a few."

We arrived a few minutes later at a high-end boutique. Dream opens the door and I step inside, taking it all in. Frank Sinatra flows quietly through the speakers, creating a warm ambience along with the cozy smell of fresh cotton.

There were suits everywhere. Some were displayed front and center on mannequins, others were lined in neat racks. Dark and light ones, different styles and sizes. A whole wall was dedicated solely to every pattern of tie imaginable, a separate section for pocket squares and other accessories.

"Dream! Good to see you my dear!" A petite woman, with striking blue eyes and a black cocktail dress that hugged her figure perfectly and a very thick French accent, clicks over to us with her arms raised. She smiles brightly, kissing both of his cheeks, leaving lipstick marks.

I scrunch my nose, grimacing.

"Lovely to see you, René." Dream takes her hand, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. "I'd like you to meet George. He needs a few suits and I assured him you're the best in the nation."

"Ah, ever the gentleman." She laughs. René grabs my face and places quick kisses on both my cheeks in greeting. "Nice to meet you George. Dream has brilliant taste, you will have no issues I'm certain." She smiles kindly, turning on her heels.

"Come, come! No time to waste!" I look at Dream who was busy wiping lipstick off his face. I wipe at my own cheeks and he snorts, gesturing me forward.

We hurry after the woman and she leads us further into the shop. A gleaming bar sits near the fitting rooms and I gape when she claps. The bartender slides over two glasses of neat bourbon and Dream leaves some money on the counter, eyes roaming around the store with interest as he sips at his glass.

"How come there's no one else here?" I whisper to Dream as René bustles around the racks, looking over at me and humming to herself with a short nod, before hurrying over to look somewhere else. It was giving me motion-sickness.

"You have to book an appointment with René. She likes to give her full attention to one customer at a time." Dream mutters back, watching her work.

"Dream my dear, will you be looking at anything?" She asks over her shoulder.

"Yes he is!" I answer for him.

He frowns. "Ah why?'

"Because I want to pick one out for you." I shrug. If he's picking me a suit, I want to do the same.

He regards me for a moment before smiling into his glass. "Have at it."

René grabs my wrist and pulls me along with her. I look back at Dream who didn't even notice my plight, conversing with the bartender who he seemed to know quite well. She babbles on about how Dream had already picked one he thought I'd like, and left her to her own devices for everything else.

After she pretty much measures my entire body, she grabs a single suit and shoves me into a dressing room. However, it wasn't like any fitting room I've ever been in. It was huge, with mirrors reflecting every angle. She tells me to take off my clothes, so I strip, standing in front of her in my boxers, cheeks heated with chagrin.

We tried the suit Dream had suggested I try. It was a flawless chocolate brown suit, and René mentioned it matched my eyes perfectly. She helps me into it, smoothing out the shoulders and tying the tie for me. The inside was lined with a soft material that hugged my body comfortably. It not only looked good, but it felt nice.

"Like I said....il a bon goût." She admires me and I stare blankly at her. "He has good taste, I said. Ah, we should go show him this one, he'd love to see." She smiles, folding a white pocket square into my breast pocket. I take a moment to admire myself, flushing as she compliments me.

She takes me by the wrist and tugs me out of the dressing room, back towards the bar. This woman had way too much energy for her own good. She dusts my arms off before calling out to Dream who swivels on his barstool.

I watch the lump in his throat bob as he looks at me, color flooding into his cheeks as he nods. "You look good George." He sends me a weak smile.

"No, no, no, no." René shakes her head, bringing me closer to him. "He looks hot, yes Dream? Say it my dear."

I hide my smile, looking up at him with a grin. "Yeah Dream, say it."

He doesn't take his eyes off me. "René, give him a silk square. Let's see how that looks." She snaps in agreement and heads off to the pocket square section, rummaging through to find something that would match.

As soon as she's out of sight, Dream stands up and loops a hand around my waist, pulling me closer. I stare at the pearly buttons of his shirt when he leans down to eye-level. "You look hot George." He mumbles, kissing my cheek gently.

I looked over to where René was still rummaging around, rolling my eyes with a sheepish smile. "Yes, yes...with gold cufflinks this will be magnifique! Come here George." Just as I wiggle away from the blonde's touch, she manhandles me into her firm grasp. Dream snorts, watching as she folded the pretty accessory perfectly and whips me around to face him again.

Before he can respond in any way, she whisks me back to the dressing room. The next six suits don't take as long, as they're standards that everyone buys. Combinations of navy blues, blacks, grays and browns fill my rack and I sweat at the cost of it all. This is all far too much. The only comforting part is I can actually afford it, and my paycheck next month will reinstate the money. But still.

"So is there anything here that Dream wants and hasn't gotten?" I ask, as she tuts over the fit of a black tuxedo that was too large. How do you give a gift to a millionaire? Of course, I know Dream would appreciate something well-thought out, rather than expensive. But I have plenty of time to do that. I wanted to get him something nice; he only ever seems to get stuff that he really needs. Even the dozens upon dozens of suits in his closet are necessities; he has socials and parties to go to nearly every week.

"Hmm, not really. He's got almost everything he likes." She ponders. "Well actually..." She leaves. Again.

I stare at myself in the dozens of mirrors capturing every curve and dip of my body. I shudder, looking at the floor. It was a bit unsettling. She comes back a few minutes later, carrying a silk garment bag like it was made of pure gold.

"A few days ago, I found a suit that was made by one of his favorite tailors. They closed down a couple years ago, so finding one of his suits circulating around and in his size was quite a task. I was going to call him to come look at it after I finished with you. Anyways–tada!" She unveils the suit and I intake a sharp breath.

If you could call any piece of clothing beautiful, it would be this one. It was a three-piece suit; an elegant ocean blue suit jacket, waistcoat and trousers. It was truly the deepest and richest color I had ever seen in my life. It came with silver cufflinks that perfectly finished the piece.

"Woah." Is all I can say, unable to tear my eyes off it.

"It is one-of-a-kind." She nods, admiring it with him. "Only woah if you have sixteen thousand dollars."

I try not to implode inside. "Sixteen thousand?" She nods, confirming the number. "For just one suit?" She nods again.

"Dream comes in to admire these types of suits. But he rarely buys them. He'd rather spend his millions on his silly little gadgets and gizmos." I laugh along with her. She's not wrong, but it is those same gadgets that got him millions in the first place.

"I'll take it." I bite my lip. Her eyes pop out of her skull and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Do I really look that cheap?

"Okay!" She gathers my suits in her arms, and keeps Dream's one in her other hand. She hooks the chocolate brown suit on the rack, the pretty garment's tags already cut off by the energetic woman. "He told me to tell you to put that on."

"Why–" She leaves again, and I sigh.

I slip into the white undershirt, tying the silky brown tie around my neck before pulling on the jacket and trousers. I ruffle my hair in the mirror before heading out, tucking the cloth embellishment into the breast pocket.

When I emerge, both pairs of eyes turn to look at me, one in satisfaction and the other just staring, seemingly lost in thought. René glances at his expression and smirks as I come over to the counter where she was putting all my suits in garment bags.

"What are you doing?" I ask when Dream takes out his credit card. He looks at me quizzically.

"Paying for the stuff?"

"My stuff." I pluck the credit card out of his hand and give my own to René. Dream tries to protest, but I shush him with a look. As she's ringing them up, I finally ponder why exactly he's dressed up so nice. It's not like he had to wear a suit to pick me up from the meeting with Techno.

"Why did you ask me to wear this?" I ask, reaching for his hand to fidget with his fingers. He watches me with a smile, lacing our fingers together.

"You'll see..." He trails off when he looks at the receipt René had slid to me. "You did not just pay sixteen thousand dollars for a single suit. Please tell me you didn't." He gapes.

"It's for you." I murmur shyly.

His eyes widened. "What?"

René hands me the black box, adorned with a navy sash and I grin at the blonde, placing it in his hands. He takes it wordlessly, glancing at me before opening it. I take in every shift in his expression as he takes the garment out, admiring every fine detail. "Is this–"

"It is." She confirms knowing exactly what he was going to ask, smiling at me.

"Holy shit George." He breathes through the words, stroking the smooth fabric. "This is fucking nuts. I can't let you buy me a sixteen thousand dollar–"

"I told you I'd pay you back." I shrug, resting my face on his shoulder. He holds in a delirious laugh, shaking his head with a giant smile.

"Thank you," He pressed a quick kiss to my temple, pulling me a little closer. "I love it."

"Go, go! Get dressed." René shoos him off to a dressing room and follows him in, shooting me a thumbs up before disappearing into the room. I wait for them, smiling at the bartender before raising my neglected glass of bourbon to my lips. It's sweeter than I thought it would be. Usually I steer clear of drinks taken neat.

The two must have some sort of routine, because they come out rather quickly. When he finally steps out of the mirrored room, the air in my lungs marches uniformly out of my body.

It was made for him.

The deep ocean-blue hugged his figure perfectly, from his shoulders down to his waist where his hands were shoved into the pockets. The silvery buttons of the waistcoat glimmered against his stomach, accompanying his eyes that contrasted sharply from the sea of cobalt. His face was positively giddy, looking closely at my dumbfounded expression.

"Seven out of ten."

"You are never going to get over that." Dream cracks up.

"No, I won't." I roll my eyes. We bid goodbye to René who waves us merrily on our way.

Dream leads us into the brisk weather, looking past my ear at the sunset. He looks so hot. My hands sweat and I refrain from wiping them on my new trousers, looking up at his smile.

We get to his car and he looks over at the boutique door, before pulling me by the wrist to the driver's side. Before I can ask what the fuck he's doing, Dream pushes me against the door, leaning in close with desire in his eyes.

"You look so good." I beat him to it, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Mmm." He hums into my lips. "I'm this close to canceling my plans and taking us home."

I press our lips together, shutting my eyes. The back of my head bumps against the window as Dream reciprocates the gesture, moving our lips together gently. My hands tangle in his hair as I press closer. He tastes like the bourbon he was drinking early, the spice of the alcohol broken by the caramelized vanilla on his tongue. It was addictive, and I couldn't imagine ever wanting to pull away.

"We're gonna be late." He mumbles. His gaze sinks to my lips again, placing a gentle peck before pulling away just slightly.

"Late for what?"

My phone vibrates in my pocket and it buzzes against the metal door. We pull apart with a sigh and I fish my phone out of my pocket, frowning.

"Hi, George Davidson speaking,"

"Hey George, this is John from Bank of America again. I wanted to call to make sure it was you that made a 40 thousand dollar purchase. Because if not, dude–someone stole your credit card."

—

It took a while to convince them that I hadn't gone senile, and simply had to purchase a few suits for work. By that time, we were already close to wherever Dream was taking us.

"Dreeeam."

I sigh, looking over at him for the fifteenth time, that had everything to do with trying to annoy him and nothing to do with how attractive he looked in that ridiculously expensive piece of outerwear. But it was worth it, at least in my opinion.

"Yes George." He drones again.

"Tell me where we're going." This time he hesitates, then finally relents with an exasperated sigh. Dream parks the car and I look out at the towering city.

"I'm taking you out to a seven course to teach you some fucking manners." He grins.

//

psst...you should go check out Glimpse. It's got like 7 chapters already 🤭