The New Suit

Chapter 2 – The New Suit

The security team finished wiring the house in under four hours.

Cameras in the living room, the kitchen, both bedrooms, even the garage. Microphones hidden inside light fixtures and behind outlet covers. Every angle covered. Total cost, ninety thousand dollars. By the time the lead technician handed me the master login for the surveillance app, my phone had already buzzed with a deposit notification. Nine hundred thousand dollars, sitting in my account like it had always been there.

I stood in the driveway watching the van pull away and felt a calm settle over me that I hadn't felt in years. Maybe ever. This house, this life, all of it was about to change, and they had no idea.

"Olivia?"

I turned around. A man in a security guard uniform was walking toward me from across the street. Broad shoulders, kind face, a little heavier than I remembered. Marcus Reyes. We went to the same college. He lived two buildings over and we used to study together in the library until midnight. Now he worked security for the gated community at the end of the block.

"Marcus. Hey."

"Hey yourself. Haven't seen you in a while. You doing okay? You look, I don't know, different."

"Different how?"

He tilted his head slightly. "Like you slept for the first time in ten years."

I almost smiled. "Something like that. What's going on?"

His expression shifted and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I hate to bring this up, but Margaret got caught shoplifting again. The store manager called us instead of the cops because he recognized her from last time. I smoothed it over but he told me next time he's pressing charges."

Every other time this happened I would have apologized on her behalf, driven to the store, paid for whatever she took, and begged the manager to keep it quiet. I spent more hours cleaning up Margaret's messes than I spent on myself in eleven years.

"Thanks for letting me know, Marcus."

"You want me to talk to the manager again?"

"No. I'll be making them all leave soon anyway."

Marcus blinked. Then he looked at me like he was trying to figure out if I was joking.

"You serious?"

"Very."

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he just nodded slowly, like something about the way I was standing told him not to push it. "Alright then. You need anything, you know where to find me."

I watched him walk back across the street, and for a second I felt something warm in my chest. He was the only person in this entire neighborhood who ever treated me like a human being. I made a mental note to remember that when the time came.

Twenty minutes later I pulled into the parking garage of a luxury mall in Midtown Manhattan. The kind of place I used to walk past and never go inside because everything in the window displays cost more than my monthly grocery budget.

Not anymore.

The boutique on the second floor had soft music playing and white marble floors that clicked under my sneakers. Two saleswomen stood near the entrance. One of them, an older woman with sharp cheekbones and a tight smile, looked me up and down like I had wandered in by accident.

"Can I help you find something?" Her tone made it clear she didn't think I could afford anything in here.

"I'm just looking."

"The clearance section is in the back, if you're interested."

I felt the heat rise in my neck but I kept walking. Near the back of the store, a younger guy, maybe twenty two or twenty three, stepped forward. His nametag read Miguel.

"Welcome in. Are you looking for something specific today?"

"Something expensive."

He didn't flinch. Didn't look me up and down. Just nodded and smiled like that was the most normal thing anyone had ever told him.

"We just got a new piece in. Limited edition. Italian silk with hand stitched beading. It's in the private display if you want to see it."

"Show me."

He led me to a glass case near the fitting rooms. Inside, hanging on a velvet form, was the most beautiful gown I had ever seen. Deep red, floor length, with a neckline that would make anyone look like they belonged on a magazine cover. The tag read three hundred ninety eight thousand dollars.

"That one," I told him.

Miguel didn't hesitate. He pulled the gown out and handed it to me with both hands like he was handling something sacred.

"Would you like to try it on?"

"No need. Ring it up."

From across the store, I heard the older saleswoman make a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh. She leaned toward her coworker.

"Watch this. She's going to pretend to check her phone and then walk out."

I pulled out my card and handed it to Miguel. He ran it. The machine beeped once and the receipt printed out clean.

Three hundred ninety eight thousand dollars. Approved.

The older woman's smile dropped off her face like someone had slapped it away. She stood there frozen while Miguel bagged the gown with careful hands, and I could feel her staring at me the whole time. The commission she just lost because she couldn't keep her mouth shut was probably more than she made in a year.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen. Three million, nine hundred eighty thousand dollars deposited. My balance now sat past four million.

Miguel handed me the bag with a small bow. "Thank you so much. It was a pleasure helping you."

"You're the only one in here worth talking to. Remember that."

I walked out of the fitting room wearing that gown like armor, my old clothes folded inside the bag, and I didn't look back. Not at the saleswoman. Not at the store. I crossed the polished floor with my shoulders straight and my chin up, and headed straight for the jewelry store across the street.