Jordan erged from the fitting room with his wallet significantly lighter and his arms heavy with shopping bags. Nordstrom had done a number on him. Three suits, five dress shirts, two pairs of slacks, four pairs of jeans, seven t-shirts, three button-ups, and enough underwear to survive the apocalypse.
"Are we done?" Jordan asked, already knowing the answer.
Alexis gave him a look that made him feel stupid for asking. "We’re done with you. Now it’s our turn."
"Your turn?"
"Spring break," Kumiko bounced on her toes, twin tails bobbing with each movent. "Two months until Cabo! We need bikinis and cover-ups and sundresses and—"
"And judges," Alexis cut in. "You’re the judge."
Jordan’s brain short-circuited. "I’m the what?"
"The judge," Alexis repeated slowly, like she was talking to a particularly dense child. "You tell us what looks good."
Jordan glanced at Chloe, hoping for rescue. She shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Your suffering isn’t over yet."
"But I’ve been carrying bags for three hours—"
"And now you get to sit and watch beautiful girls try on clothes," Kumiko said. "Most guys would kill for this opportunity."
Most guys didn’t understand the psychological warfare of won’s fashion. Jordan did. He’d spent enough ti with Eliza to know that "Does this make look fat?" was a question with no right answer. Only varying degrees of wrong.
"Fine," he conceded. "Where are we going?"
"Revolve," Alexis said.
"Free People," Kumiko countered.
"Zara," Chloe suggested.
The three won stared at each other, a xican standoff of retail preferences.
"How about all three?" Jordan offered. "One store each? Ladies’ choice."
Alexis nodded approvingly. "Reasonable compromise."
"I call first!" Kumiko grabbed Jordan’s arm and began dragging him toward the exit. "Free People has the cutest swimwear right now!"
Jordan found himself pulled across the polished mall floor, Chloe and Alexis following behind. As they walked, Chloe slipped her hand into his free one, a silent claim of ownership that didn’t go unnoticed by either of the other won.
Free People was exactly what Jordan expected: light wood, greenery, and more flowy fabrics than a Renaissance Faire. Kumiko disappeared into the racks with terrifying efficiency, erging monts later with an armful of hangers.
"You," she pointed at Jordan, "sit there." She indicated a small seating area outside the fitting rooms.
Jordan obediently sat, placing his shopping bags on either side like armor. Chloe perched beside him, their shoulders touching. Alexis remained standing, scrolling through her phone with feigned disinterest.
"Ready?" Kumiko called from behind the fitting room curtain.
"As I’ll ever be," Jordan muttered.
The curtain flew open, and Jordan’s jaw hit the floor.
Kumiko stood there in a white bikini that was more string than fabric. The top barely contained her, small triangles of material struggling to perform their intended function. The bottom was equally minimal, high-cut to showcase her surprisingly toned thighs.
"What do you think?" Kumiko twirled, the movent causing various parts to jiggle dangerously.
Jordan felt Chloe’s fingernails dig into his thigh.
"It’s, uh—" His voice cracked. "It’s nice?"
"Just nice?" Kumiko pouted.
"Very nice," Jordan anded. "The white looks good with your skin tone."
This was apparently the right answer. Kumiko bead. "I know! And it has these cute little bows on the side, see?" She turned, showing off the tiny bows at her hips.
"Super cute," Jordan agreed chanically, feeling sweat bead on his forehead.
"Hmm." Kumiko twisted to check herself in the mirror. "I’m not sure if the top fits right. What do you think, Jordan?"
A trap. A blatant, obvious trap.
"I think Chloe would know better than ," he deflected.
Smart man, Chloe’s softening grip on his thigh communicated.
"It’s a bit small," Chloe said. "They have the sa style in a dium."
"But then it won’t push up as much," Kumiko argued, actually pushing up her breasts with her hands for demonstration.
Jordan stared very intently at a potted plant in the corner. Fascinating foliage. Truly remarkable photosynthesis happening there.
"The dium would be more practical for actual swimming," Alexis comnted, not looking up from her phone. "Unless you’re just going for Instagram photos."
"Both! I’ll try the dium too." Kumiko disappeared back into the fitting room.
Jordan exhaled heavily, earning a quiet laugh from Chloe.
"You’re doing great," she whispered. "Keep staring at plants."
"That’s the plan."
Kumiko erged in five more swimsuits over the next twenty minutes, each seemingly smaller than the last. Jordan mastered the art of the diplomatic complint: specific enough to seem thoughtful, vague enough to avoid Chloe’s wrath.
The blue one brought out her eyes. The pink one matched her ribbons. The black one was classic. The patterned one was unique.
Finally, Kumiko decided on the white one (in dium) and a light blue two-piece with ruffles that made her look even more like an ani character co to life.
"Your turn!" She bounced over to Alexis.
"Finally." Alexis tucked her phone away. "Revolve, then."
The walk to Revolve was rcifully short. Where Free People had been bohemian and earthy, Revolve was sleek and modern. The lighting was cooler, the displays more minimal.
Alexis moved through the store with the confidence of soone who’d spent more ti in high-end retail than most people spent in their own hos. She selected items with quick efficiency, not bothering to check price tags.
"Don’t move," she told Jordan before disappearing into a fitting room.
Jordan didn’t dare. He sat obediently, Chloe still beside him, Kumiko now wandering through nearby racks.
When Alexis erged, the effect was entirely different from Kumiko’s appearance. Where Kumiko had bounced out with puppy-like excitent, Alexis strolled out with feline grace.
Her first selection was a white one-piece with strategic cutouts along the sides, revealing hints of her toned torso. The high cut lengthened her already long legs. Her blonde hair fell loose around her shoulders, completing the bombshell effect.
"Well?" she asked, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised.
Jordan struggled to find words that wouldn’t get him killed. "It’s very... elegant."
Alexis looked pleased. "Exactly what I was going for. Not trashy." A pointed glance toward where Kumiko was browsing suggested the comparison.
"The cutouts are interesting," Chloe offered, her voice neutral.
"Yes, tasteful negative space is key." Alexis turned, examining her profile in the mirror. "The Cabo beach club has standards."
Of course it did. Jordan couldn’t imagine Alexis anywhere without a dress code.
Alexis’s try-on session proceeded with military precision. She erged, turned, waited for comnts, then returned to the fitting room. No twirling, no giggling, no asking if things made her butt look big. Each swimsuit was more sophisticated than the last—monochromatic pieces with clever design elents rather than frills or patterns.
"This is my favorite," she declared, modeling a sleek black bikini.
"It’s very you," Jordan said truthfully.
"Is that a complint?" Alexis narrowed her eyes.
"Yes," Jordan confird. "It looks expensive and intimidating. Perfect for making other won feel bad about themselves at the beach club."
Alexis laughed—an actual, genuine laugh that transford her face. "Exactly right. That’s what vacation is for."
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