Shopping Expedition

"Keep up, you worthless brat. I don't intend to spend any more time on you than I have to." Her mother was already searching the racks for designs on this month's clothing spree. As an exception to the restraining order she had against her parents, once a month she allowed her mother to take her shopping for work clothes. Both women were in agreement that Jessica had excellent fashion sense and that Luwanda had to look her best for the sake of the company. So she endured her mother's bile once a month in exchange for a new wardrobe. She tended to give her old clothes to goodwill, she could afford it. This month the older woman was being particularly hostile, having heard about Tyr's pursuit of her. Seriously, if the young CEO didn't have the fashion sense of a blind aardvark, she would have stopped these little expeditions years ago.

"I don't see why he would even bother with such a treacherous-"

Wanda pulled out a suit, hoping to speed things up. Her mother immediately pushed it back into the rack. "Eastern European Bureaucrat. Hasn't any of my fashion sense worn off on you after all these years? I'm still mortified that my own daughter can't dress herself!"

"Good afternoon, ladies," a familiar voice interrupted the 'peace' of the boutique they were shopping at.

"Tyr," Wanda gasped, the first word she'd said in three hours.

"Ah, good afternoon, Tyr. It's so nice to see you again, how is your mother?"

"She's doing well, upset that I'm moving out."

"Well, who would want to lose a child so soon after getting them back? It's not like with this child here. I couldn't wait for this lazy leech to move out."

"That's not necessary," the man said. "There's no need to insult your daughter in front of me."

"It's fine, Tyr. You don't have to-"

"Don't you tell me how to raise my child! Luwanda needs a firm hand. She's a good for nothing, no account-"

"She's a wonderful woman who deserves respect. What is going on here?" he asked in Italian.

"Once a month she takes me shopping for work clothes."

"Why?"

"I have no fashion sense," she shrugged. "I only have to put up with her bile for a few hours and I get a new wardrobe out of the deal."

"You shouldn't have to put up with being verbally abused during your time together." He stepped closer to her, watching her eyes dilate. "I won't stand for it."

"Then don't look," The woman said. "I don't need a savior, Tyr. This is my life, and-"

"And it could stand for some improvement," he finished, stepping even closer and stroking her cheek. "I'm not here to control you, little one, but I can't just stand around while my woman is being abused."

"I'm not your woman," she snapped, stepping back.

"You are," he said, stepping closer again. "But I can wait for you to know it."

"You'd better not be talking about me," the older woman said with a petulant pout on her face.

"Not at all. If you are having so much trouble with this task, I would be happy to take over."

"You?" Both women said. The staff of the boutique was gawking by now. No one spoke up for Luwanda, least of all to her mother. Jessica Jenkins was a force to be reckoned with.

"Yes, me."

"I won't have my degenerate daughter looking like a clown at work. Whether I like it or not, she represents Jenkins Inc. I won't-"

"No, you won't. Not anymore," the man interjected. He opened the door to the shop. "You can go now," he said, waiting for the older woman to leave. Jessica looked shocked. No one had ever spoken to her that way before, least of all in regards to her daughter. She left slowly, waiting for her child to call her back, but the stupid chit seemed as much in shock as she was.

Once the awful woman was gone, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now, where were we?" he said, looking through the racks for appropriate clothing.

"What have you done?" she asked in Italian. "I can't show up at work looking any old type of way! I have an image to uphold!"

"Does that image include 'doormat'?" he shot back at her. "Try this one on, Wanda."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not allowed to wear pants suits."

"'Not allowed'? Nonsense. This suit flatters your curves and will keep your legs warm. It's getting cold outside."

"But-"

"Trust me, little one. I don't want you looking bad either, but for my own reasons. I won't lead you astray."

"He's right," her saleswoman said in Italian. "All these years and I never knew you spoke Italian, Mrs. Anasazi."

"Ms. Jenkins," the girl said.

"Mrs. Anasazi," Tyr put in. "We're not divorced."

"Till death do us-"

"You opened the door for this, and I refuse to back down," he said, pulling three more outfits with unerring accuracy. "These will suit you well, no pun intended. Get changed." She looked ready to argue, but the presence of so many gossiping women kept her from it. The outfits were perfect for her. The staff banded together to help her, and she was out of the boutique much faster than usual. Tyr was agreeable and much less argumentative than Jessica. The alterations were accomplished faster than usual without the older woman's interference. The couple left well before closing time, which was unusual for these shopping excursions.

"Would you like to get something to eat before I take you home?"

"I have food at home," she answered, holding onto her purse as she walked. Her clothes would be delivered to her home as always tomorrow. She'd have just enough time to steam them and do her usual cleaning before going to the jail. "Thank you for… for shopping with me," she whispered to the ground.

"I'll put it into my calendar so I can go with you again next month."

"You would… do that? It's not interesting work."

"It's good to help make sure my baby looks good," he shrugged.

"I'm not-"

"You are," he insisted, pushing one of her braids behind her ear and smiling down on her. "I don't know why you don't see it, but you are. You're already mine. You just-"

"Why? Why now?" she exploded, looking furious. "You pop into my life like a grenade, changing everything. Then you start talking all this crap about me being yours and how much you love me and… and…"

"I only saw it when I lost you," he soothed her.

"You never had me," she said, still riled up and not caring that they were in the street. "You never had me and you never will! You were my tormentor, my nemesis. Don't go flipping the script like we've been friends all along. You can't do that! You can't just-" he kissed her, enjoying her few moments of unguarded joy. She melted up against him, subconsciously trusting him to take care of her. He loved that. The sound of her limo pulling up stopped the kiss.

"You… you can't just kiss me like that," she whined, the look of terror and embarrassment on her face making him want to kick his own ass for hurting her so much for so long. "I'm not some bimbo you can just-"

"You have been many things in your life. 'Bimbo' has never been on the list," he told her, caressing her cheek. "And I delight in kissing my woman whenever she allows me to."

"I didn't-"

"You did," he said. "Tell me how I can prove my good intentions to you, Wanda. I want you to trust me before all others."

"I… I don't think you can," she said with a sad look, turning away from him. The man grabbed her arm and spun her back around. When she turned, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I will find a way to make you trust me," he vowed, letting her go to the limo in peace. She didn't turn back around, therefore she didn't see the glare the limo driver directed his way. He closed the door, missing Tyr by an inch, before running around the limo and pulling away. Tyr was left standing all alone to plan his next move. He had her interest and he even had her love, but he needed to gain her trust. Thinking about the members of the Board and the way they kept at him to take over his family company, he started formulating a plan.