Oscar only took a moment to consider her request because the answer seemed obvious to him.

"Well, I do owe you for bailing me out earlier," he said as he sat down on the edge of the big bed, and then leaned back and folded his hands behind his head, swinging one leg casually. "What do you want to know?"

Elise hesitated, then meandered towards the door to what appeared to be a walk-in closet. "I guess-" she huffed, just after disappearing from his view. He could hear her shifting hangers around. "Well, I mean... It's hard to ask about what you don't know about," she commented. "Shit... Would you unzip me?" she asked, leaning enough that she could see him from the closet.

"Huh? Oh, sure." The punk grunted as he got up off the bed to help. He wondered why females wore things that they had trouble getting in and out of by themselves, and then wondered if she really needed his help at all or if she just wanted it.

"Does he steal? Does he kill people? How did the two of you meet? Was it...through crime?"

"No? I mean... Sort of, yes... Heh, it's complicated. Look, it's different for Max-Marcus than say a petty criminal. He doesn't kill people, he just tells one of his friends that he wants someone dealt with and tomorrow they go missing, or end up in an accident, or any number of things, but you get my point... " In one fluid motion he pulled the zipper down, releasing the tension holding the fabric together. "But I didn't know any of that when we met..."

Elise let out a sigh of relief, though whether it was from being freed from the zipper she could reach, but couldn't quite pull hard enough, or the information about her brother. "Thanks," she said, glancing briefly over her shoulder, which now fell bare along with the majority of her back, all the way to the delicate curve at the base of her spine. She kept her back to him, holding the front of the dress securely in place while waiting for him to leave the closet. "So, if 'Marcus' is the bad, rich, crime lord to you...then who's Max? ...Oz?"

"...Huh? Oh!" Oscar recovered, after getting momentarily lost in imagining what forms were still covered by the dress. He knew he shouldn't. Max trusted him, but he couldn't fight against his natural biology. "Max is perfect..." he mused with a small smile. "Never takes himself too seriously, is always down for whatever happens. He's the kind of friend you want to have. The kind who you don't get tired of on long drives, who's easy to be around... The kind of guy you let your guard down around."

"You sound smitten." Elise grinned could be heard in her comment. "And given how protective he is of you, I think my brother realizes how lucky he is," she said, turning to face Oscar. She gazed up at him for a moment, her dark almond eyes expectant. "...Would you mind?" She asked, making sure she had a secure hold on her dress with one hand, while giving him a gentle push on the chest with the other, since he was still in her closet.

"Not at all. Just think of me as one of the girls," Oscar teased before yielding and exiting the closet. Really, if anyone was going to have a problem with nudity, it wasn't going to be him.

Elise laughed. "I don't undress in front of them either."

It'd taken practically no time once she'd closed the closet door, for Elise to reemerge in a pair of shorts and a trendy looking crop top. "Another thing I've gathered about the family business is that politics play an important role," she commented, taking a seat on the edge of her bed while she slipped on some strappy flats. "Marc mentioned that we're going to be hosting a party for Carter Davenport next week, and I happen to know he can't stand the guy... But he's never once turned down an invitation from Davenport."

"Yeah, I met him," The punk hummed thoughtfully. That was the night he stole the Bugatti—a Bugatti that belonged to a certain Italian D-bag. "I don't think Max is the only one trying to gain his attention..." Oscar cocked his head to the side as he spied Elise picking up her purse. "Oh, are you leaving?"

"I was thinking we could go shopping together?" she offered. "Since I told mom I'd match your suit and all... We can put what you'll need on my account. I haven't spent hardly anything this month."

"Oh, you were serious about that?" not that Oscar didn't believe she was, it just wasn't ever something that occurred to him as important.

Who cared who matched what at a dinner party as long as the food was good? But, again, he was reminded that this was a different world—where people didn't invite you to their home because they liked you, but because they wanted something out of you, or they wanted other people to see you there. "I was getting kind of bored."

"Is that a 'yes', then?" she asked as she snatched a set of keys off one of the nightstands.

"Definitely."

Unfortunately, they didn't even get into the garage that Max and his sisters shared before running into security, who informed Elise that she wasn't allowed to drive herself into town, and that if they were going to leave, they'd be driven and escorted. Which, given what had happened the night Oscar and Max had returned from their flight to Tokyo, sort of made sense.

The two of them sat together in the back of a Cadillac Escalade. Elise didn't force small talk. She seemed perfectly content to sit quietly, occasionally checking her phone when she felt like it, and chatted with Oscar effortlessly when she wanted to. It took them a while with traffic, but they eventually were let out in front of The Nine, and the two security guards who'd rode with them, followed them in.

"Oh! Mr. Bradley," Henry greeted, "Welcome back." While he did look surprised to see Oscar, he hadn't seemed to have any trouble whatsoever remembering Oz's name. "Miss," he said, tipping his head respectfully to Elise, before looking back at Oscar. "What can I help you with today?"

"Hey-ya, Hank!" Oscar greeted, sliding his hands out of his pockets and letting them rest on his hips as he surveyed the shop as if it were his second home now. "Welp, I need a suit to match her," he said, tipping his head in Elise's direction.

Henry blinked as if he didn't quite follow. "Elise Gallagher. I'll be dressing to match him."

"Ah. I see," Henry said, clasping his hands. "Colors?"

"Olive greens? I'd like something with a bit of blue to it maybe..."

"Ah. We're looking for a cool olive green, then. Yes, I think I could certainly find something." Henry pushed up his glasses and strode over to a drawer, from which he pulled out a large binder full of swatches. "And you can keep your clothes on today, Mr. Bradley," Henry assured with a bit of a teasing lilt to his tone. "We kept your measurements." 

"If you insist," Oscar tossed back, playfully mirroring Henry's tone. While He and Elise were looking over the samples, Oscar's phone buzzed, and he stepped away to check his texts. He was expecting it to be from Max, but instead it was from 'Pasta boy'.

[01:03] Pasta boy: Where are you? I thought we went over this already about timely responses, shithead

Oscar rolled his eyes and just sent back: "Busy"

He'd just hit send when he saw a sleek black SUV pull up right outside the shop, and Pasta boy himself stepped out with two of his own security detail, and they were heading right for the front door.

In a panic, Oscar pocketed his phone and made for the door, catching Rufino before he was able to make it inside.

"Heeey! Bud! Small world, right?"

"Oh yeah?" Rufino smiled. "Yours could be getting smaller soon, Buddy." He shoved his hands in his pockets, squinting up at the store front. "...The Nine, huh? You can't be here alone. You don't got money for a place like this. Or the Class. So, that must mean Max is inside, huh?"

Before even giving Oscar time to respond, Rufino was already bowling forward, pulling open the door and stepping in to look around. But when he spotted Elise, his eyes widened, and he blinked a few times. "What...the hell are you doin' here with her?" Rufino asked, turning to look at Oscar, who'd followed him back in.

"Nothing," Oscar said, trying to head him off again. "She's just picking out shit for a dinner party, and I tagged along because someone turned their limo into Swiss-cheese two nights ago."

"Ozzy." Rufino chuckled, and tossed an arm over Oscar's shoulders, turning both of them away from Max's sister, since he'd spotted the two guards getting up from where they'd been seated just inside. "Ozzy, I'm not an idiot... This place doesn't do lady's clothing. She's here for you, huh? Is that how it is? You and Marcus's baby sister gotta little thing going on?"

"Oscar?" Elise asked, concern evident in her voice.

A smooth grin slid across Ruffino's face and he cackled again, then patted Oscar's chest. "Oh, I get it... Ha! Ehi, è così romantico! Like, what was that shit...West Side Story! Pretty rich girl falls for a thug from the slums? How romance-novel-y."

It only took the punk's brain a second to respond. "Ya caught us..." he agreed, slipping an arm around Elise's waist. "Sorry, Babe, people were going to find out sooner or later."

Elise crossed her arms in front of herself but turned into Oscar. "Well, tell him to get lost. We still have other stops to make," she said, glaring pointedly at Rufino.

"No need, doll." Rufino lifted his hands in surrender, sporting a broad smile. "No need. But I'll be in touch, Ozzy!" he added, before motioning arrogantly for the Gallagher bodyguards to clear out of the way for him. He strolled out of the shop like he was leaving as the victor of something, and climbed into the vehicle that his own goons opened for him.

Henry cleared his throat and adjusted his trendy glasses. "...Should we discuss the cut?"

"I'm gonna call Marc," Elise said in a private tone to Oscar, already opening her purse to fish out her phone, before looking at Henry. "Please. And he needs an evening suit as well. Navy."

"Absolutely, Miss Gallagher."  

While Elise stepped away, Oscar followed Henry. "So, is this, like, your dream job?"

Henry seemed caught off guard by the question. "It is...more or less. Why?"

"I was just curious if this was the journey or the destination."

"Ah. Then I suppose I would consider it the journey, but I wouldn't mind if this ends up being the destination." Henry pulled out a few suit jackets of different cuts, including one very similar to the last one Oscar had liked. The one he'd gotten in red. "Is it my turn to ask a question in addition to how you feel about each of these?"

"Seems fair," Oscar replied as he pointed towards the slightly different style this time, though it still had a lot of the same elements as the last one.

"Are you actually dating Miss Gallagher? You don't have to answer, of course, I was just under the impression that Mr. Gallagher was more of your flavor..."

"Heh. You got a good eye for details, Hank. I'm going to make an assumption of my own, and say Rufino and his family aren't regulars of yours...but that you probably know where they go."

Henry jotted down a note about the cut Oscar liked, and then wrote down something else before tearing off the edge of his notepaper and holding it out to Oscar. "I'll be right back with some of our sample dinner coats," he noted before leaving Oscar alone with the note in his hand.

In simple and concise print, there was an address.

Question! If you could spend a day hanging out with Oz, where would you wanna go/what would you wanna do?

Since Oscar and I both like spicy food, I think I'd wanna go out to eat somewhere! 👀🔥🍽️😋

Shout out to Rolo76246 ! Thanks so much for your support!!