Back after some weeks, with the same car, same stuff in storage, same everything. Except missing a girlfriend and a chunk of his left arm and shoulder.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood was walking down the street, figuring that while he still had some furniture left to fill his apartment, he had almost no clothes anymore. He’d sold most of them before starting his Brand New Life as a covert operative. And here he was, back at square one, because of something that had been his own damn fault.
He saw a clothing store off the main drag, with a demure sign hanging out front. It did say men’s and women’s clothing, so he pushed the door open, as awkward and heavy as it was with only one good arm. The women’s side looked crazy, full of fabrics and prints that would have made his head ache, but the men’s side looked reasonable enough. Simple stuff, without being too old-man style. He started to look through the racks.
Lulu had found it easy enough to start over when she’d divorced Nikola. She had work to bury herself in, she had the familiar sensation of needles pricking her fingers and smiling with strangers over their happy events that necessitated new clothes.
It startled her when a handsome man came into her store. Not because that didn’t happen - it happened often - but because she found herself attracted to him. That didn’t happen often. She caught herself staring when one of her employees nudged her. “Go help,” the girl whispered.
Wolfwood didn’t think anything about the fact that no one bothered to help him - it was sort of understandable; he wasn’t this place’s target demographic. But then he did see a woman making her way through the racks - a stunningly attractive brunette with a preternaturally calm face and gorgeous skin. Was she actually coming to help him?
Lulu walked over to greet him. In a voice that was deeper than most people expected, she asked him if there was anything she could help him find.
Wolfwood blinked. “Oh. Um.” He hadn’t expected her to approach him. And he had to work not to stare at her chest. “Yes. Sorry. I was looking for a couple of sweaters, preferably with buttons.” He nodded toward his cast. “I’m afraid I don’t really know what size I take; I’m usually a small-medium-large kind of guy.”
“Do you prefer pullovers or cardigans?” Lulu couldn’t help but smile, a tiny thing that was mostly a quirk of her mouth. She moved even as she asked, fluttering and appearing never to be overly helpful.
“I prefer pullovers, but they’re a little bit awkward right now.” He nodded toward the cast again. “This thing gets stuck in them. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be on, so I figure I better plan for the near future.” Wolfwood smiled a little bit.
“Of course. I had one of those when I was a teenager. The itching will eventually drive you mad,” Lulu teased. She moved to select a few cardigans that would still look nice on him when he was out of the cast.
“I’m starting to think that’s true.” It was shitty, but he actually smiled. She was trying to be nice, so why give a random woman at a store the whole sob story? “They don’t warn you about the itching when you join the army. Just the danger.” That wasn’t a sob story, just facts.
“I’d assume if they told you the whole story, fewer people would volunteer,” Lulu offered. She motioned for him to follow her to the men’s dressing rooms. “Thank you for your service, regardless.”
Wolfwood never knew how to handle it when people said that to him, so he just smiled. “I don’t know, would you have signed up for the potential for furious itching?” He followed her, curious as to see what she might have chosen. “How long have you worked here, ma’am?”
“I would have, I think.” In her dreams, being a Guardian was close to being a soldier. “I confess, I have a bit of a mother bear instinct.” She smiled right back at him, a small, but wholly pleased thing. “I opened this shop about ... eight years ago?”
Wolfwood blinked. “Eight years? Has it been here all this time? I lived here for a while, but I just moved back into town.” He would like to have thought he’d notice a place like this if he’d walked by it. “But I salute your itching tolerance, all the same.”
“It’s been here a long time, yes.” She smiled at him, trying not to laugh too openly at his joke. He was just a customer, after all, even if he was a very handsome one.
“Wow, I’m really unobservant. That’s sad.” Wolfwood chuckled in spite of himself. He saw a sweater that he liked, but wasn’t sure about being able to wear it. “Does this or something similar come in a button-up?”
“It does, actually.” She moved to fetch it in what she thought was his size. “Would you like to try these on?” She didn’t comment on his being unobservant; he hadn’t caught her ogling him, so he kind of was.
“Yes, please, though I might have to beg your help a little.” He had on a t-shirt under his current sweater, but still, getting them on and off with one arm was going to be annoying.
“Of course,” Lulu smiled. She knew it wouldn’t be a burden because he was attractive, but she wanted him to think it was because she was a savvy businesswoman.
“Thanks. Sorry, I know it’s awkward.” The arm was healing well, but healing usually went hand in hand with being sore as hell. Wolfwood reached down with his good arm to unbutton his sweater, shrugging it off his good side, then trying to lift up the bad arm to get the sleeve off. It hurt - damn shoulder was still tender.
“It’s all right,” Lulu murmured. She could be clinical for a while. Moving toward him, she helped him with the shirt, hoping he’d not notice when she cast the teeniest of healing spells while touching his shoulder. Nothing major - she was awful at white magic - but enough to take the edge off.
Wolfwood winced as the now-familiar grinding pain started, but he did notice when it lessened. That was definitely unusual, but he wasn’t going to object. He eased out of his sweater and into the first one, with the woman’s help. “There it goes. And it fits over the cast - will this shrink in the wash at all?”
“Not at all,” Lulu smiled. “I pre-shrink everything because I get irritated when clothes shrink myself.” She was a savvy businesswoman on top of having huge boobs. She sort of hoped he noticed that she still had her figure.
“Okay, so it might wind up a little big in the sleeves when this thing comes off.” He’d definitely noticed the figure. “That’s okay.” He couldn’t entirely resist the lame joke when she touched him to help fix the sweater. “I feel like I should introduce myself, at least - name’s Nicholas Wolfwood.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mister Wolfwood. I’m Lulu Webster. I can always tailor it for you when you get your cast off, or do an exchange.” She’d wear an oversized sweater, so it wouldn’t go to waste. Besides, if she couldn’t use her merchandise to flirt with a customer, who could?
“I might take you up on that, Mrs. Webster.” Wolfwood nodded, looking at himself in the mirror. “This looks nice, and the feel is nice as well.”
“Ms.” Lulu smiled and shook her head. “Webster’s my maiden name. I went back after the divorce.” She smiled and looked approvingly at Wolfwood. “It suits you.”
“Ah. Sorry. And I do like the sweater.” Wolfwood would have felt silly saying it out loud, but he liked how cozy it felt. “Do you mind if I ask, do you make your men’s clothes as well as the women’s? I saw the sign about your ladies’ clothes being mostly handmade.”
“I mostly make the men’s clothes myself, as well.” Lulu chuckled. “Most of the women’s clothes are made elsewhere, but I used to make all of those too before my things really took off.” She leaned against the wall, admiring how well he looked in the sweater.
“Oh, I see. So it’s your ladies’ clothes that are the big draw, but they used to all be made here?” He kind of liked that she still made most of the men’s clothes. It felt somehow more ... special, really.
“I used to make everything by hand,” Lulu chuckled. “I started just making women’s clothes, then I made lingerie, and a movie star wore that so I got a bit famous. Now I have a line for Victoria’s Secret, but I still insist on making all the clothes for my menswear. That’s new, so I want to put my mark on it.” It meant lots of sleepless nights, but since she’d gotten a divorce recently, she had lots of those anyway.
“Ah, I see.” Wolfwood managed to get the sweater off with only minimal pain, gritting his teeth. “I think it’s a smart strategy.” This lady clearly knew what she was doing. Smart and attractive. Hm. “I’ll be happy to be a walking ad - these sweaters are really nice and comfortable.”
“Don’t hurt yourself. Here.” Lulu held up a hand and disappeared into the back break room for a moment, reemerging with some ice in a plastic Ziplock bag. “Where does it hurt?”
“I got shot through the bottom of my arm and up through my shoulder. The shoulder hurts like a son of a bitch, if you’ll excuse my French.” Wolfwood didn’t want to mince words. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Smiling, Lulu chuckled. “I speak French on occasion myself. You’re welcome.” She pressed the ice to his shoulder for him, trying not to notice he was muscled. She really didn’t need a man in her life; she was too busy, too sick of relationships anyway.
Wolfwood stayed where he was for a minute, enjoying the sheer novelty of having someone help him out with the annoying shoulder. He couldn’t help but sigh - just barely, just softly.
Eventually he knew he had to say something. “I really would like to get at least three of these.”
“I have three in your size. Would you like all the same color?” She didn’t move, enjoying for a moment the smell of men’s soap. It was one of the few things she remembered loving about being married.
“If that’s how it comes, yes.” He smiled at her. “I really appreciate your help, Mrs - Ms. Webster. It would’ve taken me forever to take them on and off by myself.”
“I have a few colors you can choose from,” Lulu smiled. “Please, call me Lulu. Ms. Webster makes me feel older than I am.”
“All right. Everyone calls me Wolfwood; I don’t remember the last time anyone besides my mother called me Nicholas.” Well. Besides Belladonna, but she didn’t need to hear about that.
That made Lulu chuckle. “All right, Wolfwood. Let me know what colors you like, and I’ll be sure to ring you up.”
“I’m not much for color, but I am tired of camo.” Wolfwood teased. He thought for a minute. “Maybe, black, navy and that dark purple?” He’d tried on the dark purple and liked the fit.
That made Lulu chuckle. “You look very nice in the dark purple.” She took the sweaters and made for the cash wrap, where she wrapped them in tissue paper and started to ring him up. She gave him a fifteen percent discount, partly because he was a veteran and partly because he was cute and she wanted him to come back.
Wolfwood noticed; he figured it was military. “Thank you, M - Lulu. Really, I appreciate the help. You saved me a lot of time and pain.” With difficulty he took the bag in his good hand, appreciating that the handles were firm.
“Of course. Please, let me know how they work out for you.” Lulu smiled and made sure to help him grip the bag in a way that was comfortable before she let go of it herself.
“I have a feeling I’ll be back.” Wolfwood smiled back at her before heading out the door.