Eva had only been in New Haven for a few minutes before she became aware of her clothes. Her jeans were frayed, her high-heeled boots scuffed, and the light canvas jacket she wore over her tank top had been bought thrift, definitely from last season. She could only hope that she hadn't carried the scent of fish with her all the way from the docks into this upper class part of town.
From the outside, Highlife Haberdashery looked like any number of the upscale boutiques that dotted the length of Benson Boulevard. The name was on the facade above the door in stern, gold lettering. The framing around the large windows that showcased several well-dressed mannequins and the facade itself seemed to be made of mahogany, or paneled in it at the very least. Beyond the mannequins, one could spy tables filled with neatly folded sweaters, and racks with trousers, blazers, and dress shirts of varying shades and fabrics hanging. Just off to the right of the main entrance was a cabinet filled with ties, and beyond that, glass counters with varying types of hats. The store interior, while decently sized, seemed to take up only a fraction of the building itself.
Eva paused just outside the store. Everything in it was so shiny. So new. Her hands balled into fists and rubbed at the thighs of her jeans. Well, she was there already. Might as well go in. With a shift of her shoulder bag, she stepped inside and leaned for a quiet word to the first person she could find who appeared to be working there. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Locke."
The first salesman she found was an elder gentleman, his gray hair nearly matching the color of the three piece suit he wore. He had a curious look on his face; either he wasn't accustomed to women dropping by the store, or he wasn't accustomed to those not dressed to the nines dropping by. There was a quick but noticeable up-and-down look he gave her that made it clear it was mostly, if not all, the latter. "Locke? He is in the back. Let me go get him for you." He turned around quickly and headed for a door behind the counter, opening and shutting it behind him, leaving Eva alone with the other salesman, who was talking up gingham patterned ties to a pair of bored looking men in navy blue suits.
In a way, she felt like a child standing there. She could hear the voices of every mother ever in her head. Don't touch anything. Eva huffed quietly to herself, and in defiance, reached to slide her fingers over a selection of neatly folded silk pocket squares.
A minute or two later, Locke emerged from the same door the salesman had just exited through, dressed in a muted blue seersucker suit, rumpled white dress shirt with a silver pin through the collar, white pocket square, brown belt and similarly colored Oxfords. Perhaps it was the blue skin, or perhaps it was the outfit, but the other two shoppers in the store turned to look at Locke momentarily, before resuming their discussion with the clerk.
As soon as Locke recognized Eva, the casual stride that had carried him onto the sales floor quickened slightly, carrying him to the display she was looking at. "Eva!" he exclaimed, with a wide smile on his face. "It has been too long." The excitement with which he said her name quickly faded into a more neutral tone of voice, one that might have held multiple meanings.
From the outside, Highlife Haberdashery looked like any number of the upscale boutiques that dotted the length of Benson Boulevard. The name was on the facade above the door in stern, gold lettering. The framing around the large windows that showcased several well-dressed mannequins and the facade itself seemed to be made of mahogany, or paneled in it at the very least. Beyond the mannequins, one could spy tables filled with neatly folded sweaters, and racks with trousers, blazers, and dress shirts of varying shades and fabrics hanging. Just off to the right of the main entrance was a cabinet filled with ties, and beyond that, glass counters with varying types of hats. The store interior, while decently sized, seemed to take up only a fraction of the building itself.
Eva paused just outside the store. Everything in it was so shiny. So new. Her hands balled into fists and rubbed at the thighs of her jeans. Well, she was there already. Might as well go in. With a shift of her shoulder bag, she stepped inside and leaned for a quiet word to the first person she could find who appeared to be working there. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Locke."
The first salesman she found was an elder gentleman, his gray hair nearly matching the color of the three piece suit he wore. He had a curious look on his face; either he wasn't accustomed to women dropping by the store, or he wasn't accustomed to those not dressed to the nines dropping by. There was a quick but noticeable up-and-down look he gave her that made it clear it was mostly, if not all, the latter. "Locke? He is in the back. Let me go get him for you." He turned around quickly and headed for a door behind the counter, opening and shutting it behind him, leaving Eva alone with the other salesman, who was talking up gingham patterned ties to a pair of bored looking men in navy blue suits.
In a way, she felt like a child standing there. She could hear the voices of every mother ever in her head. Don't touch anything. Eva huffed quietly to herself, and in defiance, reached to slide her fingers over a selection of neatly folded silk pocket squares.
A minute or two later, Locke emerged from the same door the salesman had just exited through, dressed in a muted blue seersucker suit, rumpled white dress shirt with a silver pin through the collar, white pocket square, brown belt and similarly colored Oxfords. Perhaps it was the blue skin, or perhaps it was the outfit, but the other two shoppers in the store turned to look at Locke momentarily, before resuming their discussion with the clerk.
As soon as Locke recognized Eva, the casual stride that had carried him onto the sales floor quickened slightly, carrying him to the display she was looking at. "Eva!" he exclaimed, with a wide smile on his face. "It has been too long." The excitement with which he said her name quickly faded into a more neutral tone of voice, one that might have held multiple meanings.