Chapter 24: Store Opening

Time. An illusion designed to help us not only get through the day, but by which to be stressed. I wasn't stressed, but this illusion of time was working against me.

I opened the door with Sally standing behind me. A woman stood on the other side. She wore a smart business suit and her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a fashionable braid. She had piercing blue eyes that reminded me of someone else but the expression on her face made me think of my high school principal.

"May I ask who you are and why you are locked in a room with one of my employees?" she asked.

"Certainly. My name is Ral Setton and the employee you refer to is my girlfriend." I answered so matter-of-factly and without hesitation that it took a second for me to realize what I had said about Sally. However, I resolved to stick with my answer and continued to look back at the woman.

"Mr. Setton?" she started to stammer. "My apologies. I was expecting to meet you earlier..."

"And I have to apologize for missing that meeting. My schedule has been thrown completely into chaos." I said this with my hand behind my back. Sally interlaced her fingers with mine and I knew I couldn't say anything wrong.

"Yes, I see," the woman said looking past me at Sally.

To distract her, I held out my other hand to shake. "Again, my apologies Miss..."

"Oh," she shook my hand, "Mrs. Tara Larson. I have to say Mr. Setton, we don't have much time and it would seem..."

"That the number of reporters we were going to do this for has increased dramatically," I finished for her. "Do you know who might have contacted the newspapers?"

"Oh! Well, no. I thought maybe you did."

I shook my head. "No, this was a surprise to me too. However, it doesn't change our schedule."

"Yes sir, but what about the photo shoot? The newspapers won't print what we were planning on displaying."

"That is their decision. However, I would add a few less exposing outfits to the line that way they have something to show."

"Yes sir." Again she looked past me to Sally.

Sally squeezed my hand and started to pull away. I couldn't let that happen. "Where are you going?"

"She's one of our models for the photo shoot," Mrs. Larson answered.

I smiled and looked at Sally. "Photo worthy, you are..."

She smiled and blushed slightly. I could sense the hesitation in her. She didn't want to leave any more than I wanted her to go.

Looking up at Mrs. Larson I said, "Her outfit is fit for public display. I'll take her with me for the initial speech and interviews."

Mrs. Larson looked at me. I could see the surprise in her eyes but she tempered that and nodded. "As you wish. Will she be participating in the rest of the photo shoot?"

I looked at Sally. "Will you?" I asked as I squeezed her hand.

She shook her head while watching my eyes and squeezed my hand back.

I looked back at Mrs. Larson. "Looks like she's decided not to. We still have time. You do have a list of replacements, yes?"

She nodded. "I'll start making calls immediately."

"You might want to consider three more instead of just one, considering the number of reporters and photographers." I suggested.

"Yes sir," she said as she turned to leave.

Sally smiled at me and I smiled back. "Looks like you're stuck with me for a while."

"I think I can handle that," she replied.

I had always thought giving a speech during high school was terrifying, but that was because of how I was expected to be received by the other students. Looking out over the crowd of reporters and photographers, I felt peaceful and ready. Of course having Sally by my side, beautiful and exotic, helped a great deal.

Cameras snapped and electricity filled the air with a soft hum from the microphones mounted to the podium in front of me. I stepped up to it and greeted the crowd. "Welcome to Mr. Naughty's."

I took another look around. The faces that looked back at me were all lost. I didn't know any of the people in front of me but somehow I knew they were important. Each of them were there for a reason, something more than just taking what I had to say and publishing it in whatever they produced. Somehow they were ... witnesses.

I shook off the feeling and began my prepared speech.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Newspapers and Magazines, welcome to Mr. Naughty's. A store for all tastes, adult fashions and lifestyles. I am glad to be here today; Happy to share with you, your readers, and everyone else the opportunity to open up and be who you are."

I watched as some took notes and others watched me back. That feeling was there again but I had to continue.

"Mr. Naughty's sells all the products one would expect from any normal adult entertainment chain as well as outfits and even everyday apparel that can be worn in public. We offer custom tailoring for the standard outfits in our catalog and are happy to accept the challenge of creating clothing that our customers dream up."

I looked over at Sally. She smiled back at me and then turned that amazing look toward the photographers. Flashes snapped off as they caught her in an amazing light. I couldn't find anything else to say. The rest of my speech wasn't important. However, I could move things along.

"Now that we have the general introductions out of the way, and everyone here is anxious to know more about what goes on behind our doors and curtains, I open the floor up to you for questions."

I glanced at the store manager. Tara had expected my speech to last longer but didn't show how the change affected her. She would make a good manager I decided then.

Hands went up immediately. I pointed at a woman wearing a tan business suit. "Mr. Setton! Jana Daltson from Adult Entertainment Today. You say the store caters to different lifestyles, what does that entail exactly?"

I smiled. "Ms. Daltson, your lifestyle is your own. I would no more try to define what your lifestyle is than anyone else here. I simply mean that we don't ask questions, we don't judge, we are simply here to provide the products you want."

Pointing out one of the men, I glanced at the rest and realized that there weren't just more reporters but people walking along the street had stopped to watch too.

"Mr. Setton, Jo Walsh from New York Styles. You have an incredible catalog of outfits that you both carry standard sizes for and custom make for those who have difficulty with standard sizes, but you also offer to custom build outfits your everyday customers dream up. How can you boast such an offer?"

My smile never faltered but something was beginning to worry me. More than just the extra reporters, more than the crowd behind them. Something else was going on that I couldn't put my finger on. "We don't make the outfits personally, if that's what you mean. We utilize other companies from the United States to help with the custom work. Most of them are small businesses or individuals who do this for the pure creativity of it. I assure you and everyone else here that there has not yet been a garment designed that we have failed to create through these means with a timely return."

I started getting nervous. More so than just being in front of an audience. Pointing out another older woman and I waited anxiously for whatever was coming.

"Mr. Setton, Erica Lasondo from 'Ask Erica' in the New York Times. You've opened your store near several other fashion outlets that have made their opinions of what your store will bring to this part of town clear. How do you feel about this?"

I could have snapped off about how those same stores tend to not cater to everyone, but I held that back. My nerves were being frayed quickly. Maintaining my smile I answered, "I can assure all the businesses in the area that we run clean stores. Each of our employees must not only have good work ethics but pass a small battery of tests to be considered for hire. On top of that, the cost of our products varies greatly. Obviously custom made outfits will be the most expensive, depending on the amount of material and detail requested, and at the other end of the cost spectrum is our entertainment section for everything from movies to magazines to simple erotic novels."