Gellert glanced up when he heard the door open, pausing with his scissors still in his hand. It seemed to be happening increasingly often, people dropping by the back room without an appointment. To some degree, it irritated him--but Gellert had never been the sort to demand that everything fit some precise and orderly schedule. After all, the hours he worked could seem interminably long at times, particularly when he was sewing the outseam of a trouser leg or measuring and remeasuring cloth. Repetition. He was certain it had the potential to drive him mad one of these days.
But really, it was difficult to deny entrance to an attractive man--and the newcomer was attractive. Beauty could forgive any number of sins. As could money. Gellert was not about to turn down a job.
"I believe they sell trousers out there," Gellert said, gesturing with the scissors toward the outer room, "but they are neither as comfortable nor as aesthetically-pleasing as ones that are tailored to your specific measurements."
He allowed the man a smile, dropping the cloth he'd been cutting into a pile on his worktable and slipping off the stool to stand upright. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he said after a moment's pause.