The Model's Stylist

19 | showy beard

c h a p t e r | 19
SHOWY BEARD
'I'll show you just how straight I am.'
__________

"BY THE WAY I NEED YOU TO BE MY PLUS ONE," Hale stated offhandedly the minute he was told to turn around and was now facing Tessa again.

Hale was met with a blank stare, as Tessa slowly looked up from the samples of fabric she had moments before just picked up to busy herself with since there was only so much one could do at the tailors.

"Now, don't go flailing your arms in excitement," Hale joked while Tessa kept on staring without giving any hint as to what she was thinking, and he shot a small glimpse over his shoulder at the tailor who was busy getting the right estimates.

"Me being your plus one? Yeah right," Tessa snorted unladylike and went back to flipping through the samples.

"Look, it's not like I want this any more than you, but John requested it. So yeah, we both know that I'm not really the—- you know..." He grimaced uneasily, "Settling type."

"You can say that again," Tessa let out another cynical snort of crassness that turned into a chuckle when Hale stopped talking, sporting a look of annoyance.

"You with a date. Yeah, not even I'm that good."

"Anyways... John asked for me to find someone less, urh, conspicuous."

"With your record? Yeah, good luck with that."

"Right, so be my cover-up?" Hale asked heedlessly and widened his stance as the tailor nudged his leg for better access to the cuffs.

Tessa threw the samples away from her, an entertained smile appearing on her lips when Hale turned to look back at her.

"A coverup, huh?" Tessa pursed her lips teasingly.

His eyes formed into narrow slits when she nonchalantly picked up a magazine and started to flip through it overbearingly.

"So what you're actually saying is that you need a beard," She concluded, her voice surprisingly leveled, and glanced over the magazine.

"Yes," Hale agreed bluntly with a nod, as he was distracted with putting on his suit jacket by help of the tailor. "My bea— What no! I'm not gay!" he barked and jumped when he felt one of the needles poke at his neck and aimed a judgmental look at the tailor who at the same time looked at him in bafflement.

Tessa winked conspiratorially at the tailor, who now eyed Hale this time more thoroughly.

"I'm not gay," he gritted out through his teeth in aggravation, jerking away from the tailor as he went to brush his hand over the shoulder pad and Tessa had to stuff her mouth not to blurt 'homophobe'.

"Will you stop laughing? You sound like a strangled hyena," Hale muttered darkly, still spotting an appalled sour expression on his face.

"Look." Hale stepped down and away to create a comfortable distance from the tailor, and grudgingly eyed the openly humored Tessa, who in her state couldn't properly express that the tailor wasn't even gay.

"You were the one saying I have a track record a mile long," his head titled pompously, "I'm voracious that way, I know," he interjected with a cocky smile, and Tessa rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "So of course," he raised his voice to gain her attention again, "I don't swing for the other team."

Hale pertinently gestured with his hand towards the tailor, clearly telling him to calm his horses, and Tessa doubled over in laughter, her stomach aching.

"That loosely transfers into persistent denial," the tailor mulled, while leisurely readjusting the measuring tape around his neck, while still maintaining a straight face, before aiming a lascivious wink at Hale.