The Company Tailor

I've had a photo sitting in my tumblr drafts for weeks now, and this weekend, I finally realized the story to go with it. After you read this introduction, get ready for the subsequent parts coming next. 

---

“You’re hired- glad to have you on board!”

Reaching across the desk, Trent Reynolds enveloped my hand in a firm shake before heading out the door with the promise that Mario from HR would arrive to let me sign all of the requisite paperwork. I sat alone for just about ten seconds before he entered with a stack of folders that almost dampened my spirits, but then I remembered the offered salary once more and calmed back down.

Minutes later, I was still signing and reading contracts that would go home with me for my own reference over the weekend.

“Okay, here’s the information for the tailor we have on retainer as well.”

“A tailor?”

“Yes, you’ll receive a monthly stipend for business formal attire. If promoted to Mr. Reynold’s main assistant, you’ll receive a larger budget since you travel with him, but this is just a small amount for a suit every few months and staples like shirts and accessories. The initial visit will be for two company outfits.”

Looking at Mario’s trim body encased perfectly in a structured suit of expensive, creamy fabric, I envisioned myself in something just as classy. I had worn my best suit for this interview, but it paled in comparison to his and the one that my now boss had been wearing.

“Okay, that’s it for now- you have a copy of every document, and if you need to revisit anything, my office is on the seventh floor. I cover all assistants and couriers, so you can ask your coworkers as well for any help.” As he hefted the stack of folders back into his arms, he gave me one last glance from the floor up that had me feeling exposed for him. “Mr. Reynolds is going to love having you onboard.”

Smiling to myself as I followed him back into the main office space, I peculiarly felt that there was some subtext that I was missing there.

---

The next day, I showed up at the tailor downtown, and I almost walked right past his storefront. He was in an unmarked office space that looked like it had been unchanged for decades, and inside, under the faint dinging of a bell, the interior was all light and airy with Persian rugs on the floor, and tapestries and plants on the walls. In the center of the room, there was a table with pocket squares of every color.

“Noah Wright, I’m presuming?”

“Yes sir, I was just hired at Weymar Advertising, and I was instructed to come here for an appointment.”

Reginald Beld appeared from the back with a measuring tape around his neck and a waistcoat and matching trousers that placed him a century earlier than he was actually from. He just looked me up and down just like Mario had yesterday before ushering me back with a genuine smile.

“You’re my only client for the rest of the day, so you have the lay of the building. Come on back.”

Natural light poured in from large windows covered in sheer curtains, and there was a red divan beside an old dresser bursting open with threads and sewing equipment. As I laid my bag down on the floor, I wondered how Mr. Reynolds had this man on retainer instead of a modern shop in the newer part of town.

“You can go ahead and strip down to your bottom layer, and then we’ll get some fabric on you. You wore tight undergarments like you were instructed?”

“Yes, but I thought I’d be only revealing them in a dressing room of sorts…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve had dozens of clients who neglected to tell me that they owned no undergarments at all before they came for appointments. Undress, and I’ll throw in a set of preferred undergarments as well.”

As he sashayed out of the room, all I could think was who preferred them.

He came back right as I was folding my pants over the divan, and he seemed to be unaffected by me standing there in just my thong and tank undershirt. I’d regretted it as soon as I got in my car, but I didn’t want to go up and change and make myself late. Now, I guess it wasn’t a big deal if he’d seen these other men naked.

“Okay, time to work.”

He wouldn’t talk much once he began measuring me and adding my numbers to a leather notebook on the stand beside him. As he gestured for me to lift my arms or adjust my legs, I began to guess whether an assistant would type these into a computer for him later or if he had a page for every employee at the company.

“Okay, I think I have a perfect suit here that I can modify- let me grab it from my back room. While I’m up front, you can get a pair of socks from the top right drawer behind you.”

Nestled amongst the sewing supplies, there was a neat arrangement of socks wrapped in small leather ribbons. Grabbing a pair, I slipped them on before he came back with a garment bag.

“Here, put this on.”

He handed me each item individually- a clean, pressed shirt that felt like butter against my skin and a wide tie that seemed traditional compared to the skinnier ones that I’d been wearing. The coat came next, and it seemed to fit perfectly already. I was ready for the pants next, but he was zipping up the garment bag. I thought he might leave to grab a second one, but he was back with his measuring tape.

“Ah, you didn’t read the fine print, did you?”

“Excuse me?”

He looked up at me with a smirk that had a devilish undertone before standing up and wrapping his measuring tape around two fingers.

“Trent didn’t rise to the top of that company on his own- he got quite a bit of support from his father who was one of my first clients. He influenced Trent to keep me on retainer which I greatly appreciate.”

“How does that relate to the fine print though?”

“That fine print relates to your pants. Or rather, the lack thereof. Trent is safely out of reach of consequences- he’s been like that his whole life. So, when it came time to hire assistants, he had an unorthodox approach. On paper, everything is legitimate- every hire has the right degree and qualifications, but they also have something extra. Noah, did you notice that every person in his office yesterday was an attractive male?”

My chest and face became a bit heated as I thought back to the veritable selection of men that I’d passed on my way into the interview. Seeing that blush as an answer, Reginald continued talking.

“Trent hires who he wants, and he makes them do what he wants. Monday morning, you will drive into the company parking deck, and you will enter the elevator right inside the building. On the way up to your floor, you will take off your pants and place them into your bag before the elevator doors open again. You will remain that way until you go home and redress on the way down. I believe that clause is on page 37 of the contract, and Mario will call you about it the night before you start work officially.”

The shock on my face didn’t subside even as Reginald instructed me to pull out my phone.

“Go ahead and take a picture of yourself now in this mirror. It helps you get used to what you’ll be wearing on Monday.”

And with that, he was out the door with the instruction to stop by to pick up halves of two suits tomorrow.