Conor had the driver drop him off at the Cochan Mall on the southeast end of the city's central square. Mr. Miros was waiting for him near the stone lions at the mall entrance.
"These will make amazing stock photos! Many ads can be made with something like this!" exclaimed Miros.
"That is excellent Mr. Miros!"
"Just call me Peter, after all, we are about the same age. It just feels weird to be called Mr. Miros all the time," he chuckled.
"Fair enough. In that case, call me Conor." Conor shook hands with Peter and then pointed down a side alley.
"If you come over this way, I think you will be impressed."
Down the side of the mall, a huge mural had been graffitied onto the wall, depicting massive dragon wings. If one stood before them, you could almost feel as if the wings sprouted from your shoulders and prepared to sweep you into the sky.
"This... This right here will sell the world over," Peter exclaimed, already snapping photos.
Conor walked up to the wings, placing his hand in the center where they met. The artist had left out anybody, simply bonding the wings as if to some membranous butterfly.
"Conor..." came a meek question from Peter. "What would you think of getting a suit? I think a suit would make for some amazing photos here. Call it, a phoenix shoot"
"I... don't own a suit."
"Really? Well, we can fix that. Honestly, the business is doing well already. Let's call it a business expense. I will cover it out of the account and as long as you are ok with it, I can get some great shots to use."
"Do you really think someone would buy such photos?"
Peter just smiled, "It's some of the most profitable parts of the business. Plus, we can easily write off the suit as your payment for modeling."
Conor scratched his chin, "I am not sure how well I will be received inside. I... use to own a store here that didn't do well."
"Don't worry, I know the shop owner for the men's suits store. He has done work with me in the past and normally loves the free marketing for his suits. Photos like mine keep his suits 'in fashion' so he is very inclined to work with us."
The two of them made their way inside, and Conor instantly felt nostalgia. He had loved owning a shop in this four-story mall, with its huge open atrium in the center. The skylights high above let in streaming rays of light that illuminated tall living trees near the various stairs, and the small lounge area at the center. Seeing new people every day and getting to interact with repeat customers had been a lifeblood for his soul. Now, he just feared being recognized and laughed out of the mall, or worse, chased out by those who still held the incident as blasphemy against Celia.
'Peace,' the wave of that soothing voice stilled the turmoil of his soul.
They arrived on the second floor and Peter led them quickly to the storefront and Conor looked up at the sign, Zelgan Dries. He had walked past this store several times but had never bothered to shop here, preferring his more casual clothes.
"Hmm, and what do we have here? Some more ruffians wishing to dress up for a day?" came a snide voice just inside, as a voluminous woman attempted a dignified walk to the front. She was dressed in frilly layers of various colors that some may try to call fashion, but its colors clashed so bad, Conor had to suppress a laugh at its absurdity.
"No, madam. We are here to see Mr. Dries." Peter said politely.
"Mr. Dries does not see to the likes of you. I suppose if you have money, Carlos can find you something in the returns bin. Carlos dear, another charity case."
Peter bowed his head in a mock grin. "You misunderstand Madam Lucre. I believe if you inform Mr. Dries that Peter Miros is here with a new model, he will understand."
"New model... hmm, well let's have a look," she gave Peter a dismissive look and sidled up to Conor turning his chin this way and that. "Well, I suppose he has the height for it. His face is not bad but at least most of your shots are of the suit anyway... I suppose if you crop that face out the suits will shine will enough." She huffed. "Well come on, let's see what we can do."
Conor suppressed a smile as the one he guessed was the assistant, Carlos, came to lead them to the back where a large, angled mirror allowed for a full view of whoever was trying on suits.
CLAP, CLAP. "Attention, we have a client. Let's find some colors that work people!"
Carlos had Conor stand on a small platform before the mirror.
Peter walked over and said, "Mr. Dries may own this place, and the lady you met a moment ago is Madam Lucre. You will have to forgive her, as she has not figured out that just because no one understands her sense of fashion doesn't make it fashionable. However, Carlos here is the real brains of the shop. If anyone can set you up right, it will be him.
"MMM, yes, well let's see what you have given me to work with. Steel-blue eyes, those will do lovely. Ok, we need a tie and... I believe we are going with some color today. None of those black or blue overcoats. It's too dark for you. Let's try.... A tan and a gray for now... yes! OKAY PEOPLE get me some tans and gray overcoats, one of the formal suits, and the matching ties please!" there was a bustle of activity as assistance flitted around the shop. Apparently, few customers came in here these days.
"Business been slow?" he asked Carlos quietly.
Carlos sighed, "Yes, I know Mr. Cochan is trying but he needs to get with the times and do some new marketing. It's been going down for over three years now."
Conor gulped, remembering what role he had played in that. "Well, perhaps we will be able to help with that. We are doing an ad campaign for the city and not only will your suits be featured but several points around the mall!"
"Hmm, that would be nice. Now hold still." Several suits were held up in front of Conor and rejected. "No, No, oh maybe... YES." Carlos handed him a suit and pointed to a changing room. "Quickly now!"
Conor changed into the white shirt, black formal suite suit, and slipped on the tan overcoat. As he walked back out, fixing the fit as he went Carlos rushed over. "No, no. Up on the step. Let us handle this." He bustled around Conor, making sure the fit and hang were perfect. "Ties" he called snapping his fingers at an assistant. He looped a red tie around Conor's neck and began tying it when his fingers slide across the chain around Conor's neck. "What is this?"
"Family heirloom."
"May I? It may do well with this outfit!"
Conor hesitated but withdrew the pendant from his shirt, making sure the chain remained securely around his neck. As soon as the stone cleared his collar, Carlos froze, and then backed away bowing. "Celia be praised" he muttered, eyes diverted. Conor was stunned and quickly reached for Carlos to lift him back up.
"No need for that. I am not my mother." He hedged that Carlos had seen the pendant at the temple perhaps and must be a loyal follower if he had this strong of a reaction.
"Young master, it is best to keep that hidden. Here, let us finish"
"Did you know my mother?"
Carlos kept his eyes averted as he swiftly finished with the tie and backed away. "I did not personally know the Prima-Dovari, but I was blessed by her wisdom. Please, here is not the place. But know this, keep that pendant hidden. Only in dire need bring it out. Should a dovari be near at hand, they will render what aid they may to the bearer. Now, spin please."
Conor was lost in thought but obeyed.
"Mr. Miros, what do you think?" Carlos asked politely.
"Oh, I think he cleans up decently. Perhaps a haircut before the shoot and we should be good. How much do I owe Mr. Dries?"
Carlos glanced around for his matron, but seeing she had vanished again, he quietly said with a slight bow, "Celia's blessing be with you brothers. This one is on me. May your endeavors profit us all under Celia's wisdom, as your mother did before you."
Peter bowed as well, "Please give Mr. Dries my compliments and let him know I am sorry we missed him today. I will be sure to get him a copy of these prints to use for any ads he wishes."
Carlos nodded, "Have a nice day Mr. Brantley, Mr. Miros."