A Private Fitting

"Get out with me," Milan said to Andrew.

"But, the SUV…" Andrew said. The driver's side front and back doors both opened at the same time. Andrew jumped a little at seeing it — still in disbelief over Milan's abilities.

"It'll park itself," Milan said, smiling at him as she extended her hand. Andrew's seat belt unbuckled, and he felt himself lifted out of his seat as if he was being pushed from underneath. He instinctively grabbed Milan's hand, looking her up and down in her shiny black vinyl coat. "It's not so crazy these days," Milan said. "The really high-tech ones can park themselves anyway, right?" She pulled him away from the vehicle, and the doors closed as the SUV put itself into gear and wheeled away from the curb.

"If you're…sure it's going to be all right," Andrew said.

"Trust me," Milan said. "In fact, I trusted you with my little secret — so this afternoon's theme is trust." Milan leaned in, kissing Andrew on the cheek and pulling him toward Bacchiarla's entryway. Andrew had a dumbfounded look on his face and simply followed her.

Part of him was still convinced he was dreaming when he saw Milan's hand reach out for the door. He swore it opened before she touched it, but now that she was holding onto the handle, he couldn't really tell.

"So…what are we doing here, Miss Moretti?" Andrew asked. One of the clerks in a black blazer, skirt and glossy shoes looked up from what she was doing immediately.

"Miss Moretti!" The clerk said, "So good to see you again! I didn't know you were scheduled for a private fitting."

"Oh, it's more an impromptu visit," Milan said. "I can just casually browse if —"

"No, no, no! I'm sure we can find you a fitting suite and I'll be more than happy to accommodate you if there aren't any executive staff currently available," the woman said. She looked Andrew up and down, noting his uniform gloves and hat. "Would your detail care to wait in the lounge, or —"

"Oh, no — this is my guest, Andrew. He'll be joining me for the fitting today," Milan said, winking at Andrew. When the clerk saw the exchange, her attitude shifted immediately.

"Of course, of course…" The clerk said. Now she stared at Andrew with dark brown eyes, giving him a warm smile. "Glad to have you with us, Andrew — can I get either of you something to drink?" Andrew simply held up his hands, waving her off.

"I'm all set for now, Miss…"

"Oh, I'm sorry — Tabitha, Ms. Moretti. I'll have you set up in the suite, and if you wait a moment, I can see about finding one of your regular fitting staffers." Milan looked up at Andrew, trying to get a feel of his impression so far. Her interactions with the substrate of Manacite in a fine, undetectable field in her proximity seemed to give her insight into more than just the physical world around her.

It probably had to do with the substance's ability to absorb and interpret a sentient will. It was tied to her body through the cut she experienced earlier — but she was still getting the hang of all the nuances and sensations the connection brought.

She could still, for instance, remain aware of what was going on back at the apartment building…but keep it in the back of her mind so that it wasn't too distracting in the moment. And, in the moment, she had a sense that Andrew found this staffer fairly attractive. She wanted to work with that.

"I might prefer to work with you, if that's an option," Milan said as Tabitha led them into an executive fitting suite. "Sometimes it's nice to have a different opinion." Tabitha beamed at the suggestion. Clearly she knew Milan outside of her VIP status.

"Oh! I'd be happy to, Ms. Moretti! In that case, I just have to have somebody cover the front, and I will be right with you. Did you have anything in mind for today's wish list?" Tabitha asked, heading back to the door as Milan sat in a plush chair.

"Hmmm...boots?" Milan said, waving her hand. "Winter professional wear...and maybe some loungewear?" Tabitha nodded.

"My pleasure! I'll gather a selection and bring everything right up," Tabitha said, closing the door behind her. Andrew looked around the room, practically guffawing.

"So this is the kind of service a 'Milan Moretti' gets?" He grinned, turning back to Milan. She shrugged, leaning back in the chair. Andrew wandered around the room — which looked a bit like a hotel room save for the lack of a bed and a desk. And, of course, it was full of mirrors. Full walls of mounted floor to ceiling panels, as well as a few angled mobile mirrors on casters. There were empty racks on either side of the room, and a mini fridge with a small bar against the back wall. "Seriously, I have a couple Barney's suits and I didn't know there were VIP rooms like this for fitting."

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'act like you've been there'?" Milan said, laughing at Andrew a little.

"You put me a little too off-balance to play poser, Milan," Andrew responded.

"Off balance?" Milan asked. "Like so?" She made a push motion with her hand against nothing but air. He saw her do it in the mirror — and he knew damn well she was more than fifteen feet from him — and somehow he felt himself falling forward.

"What the...!" It was like he tripped over nothing, but when he put his hands out to catch his fall, they never hit. He gasped a little, looking up at himself in the mirrored wall. His body was practically suspended at a sixty-degree angle above the floor. His hands were out in front of him, but it was as if his sleeves, shirt and jacket were all holding him from falling. He felt his whole body pulled backward until he was upright again. When his clothing seemed to let go, he stumbled backward just slightly. He took a deep breath and looked back at Milan with wide eyes.

The laughter was practically musical. Milan's gaze went to the mini fridge, which popped open. Andrew stared at it for a second before turning back to Milan.

"Yo, this is just way too much," He said.

"Did you want something alcoholic?" Milan asked. "They don't keep it in there without a prior arrangement, but they'll pretty much get me anything I want." She rose out of the plush chair unnaturally — lifting out of it as if gravity was optional to her. "Well? Talk to me, darling. I brought you along because I thought you would be fun company." Andrew watched as the vinyl sash around her coat untangled itself, and her buttons snapped open one by one until the shining coat slid off of her arms on its own. A hanger from one of the racks rose off to meet it in midair.

"I still don't really believe this is happening," Andrew responded. He looked back at the fridge. "I guess — caffeine probably wouldn't be a terrible idea, though." Milan gestured to the fridge, and a cola rose out of it and toward Andrew. He looked at it for a few seconds, the can suspended in midair, slowly rotating in front of him.

"It's not going to bite you," Milan said. Andrew shook his head, reached out and grabbed it.

"How is any of this possible, Milan?" He asked, pulling back the tab and chugging the thing.

"A girl has to have some secrets — even from her favorite gossip," Milan said.

"But why me?" Andrew said. "We're talking comic book telekinesis here," he motioned to the vinyl coat. "Who else knows about this?"

"Just you," Milan said. She took a deep breath, plopping back into the comfy chair again with the full **** of gravity. "Here's the thing about being me, Andrew," Milan said. "Most people think I can do pretty much whatever I want, right?" Andrew shrugged.

"Well, I know you normally have a pretty busy schedule, actually." He stared at the top of his soda can, slurping off of it a little before he continued, "and I know Teresa's a taskmaster — but that's me. I see your daily schedule." Milan pointed at him.

"Right," Milan said, "you know that part of my life. You see it." She held her hand out toward him, and the aluminum can rose out of his hand, and toward her. "But most people expect… 'Oh, that's Milan Moretti — she's got more time and money than she knows what to do with.' Which, listen — I'm not complaining… It's just," she grabbed the soda hovering in front of her and took a slug off of it, letting it go again. It drifted back toward Andrew as she continued. "There's things I'm totally not allowed to do," she said, "like…hit on my driver…if I want to."

Andrew could feel his heart pounding. He looked at the can hovering in front of him again and thought about his current relationship. He'd been dating a woman for a few months now, and it was going pretty well.

"It seems like you're doing…pretty okay with breaking the rules on that," Andrew swallowed hard, still not grabbing the can.

"Ha! Yeah — I am today," Milan said, laughing. "Today, I found out I might actually be able to do anything." She noticed he still hadn't taken the can back. "You're not worried about cooties, are you Andrew?" He finally grabbed the can, looking back at her.

"Um...it's — okay, okay — so, people don't get the celebrity thing. Of course they can't. But — you get why you shouldn't do things like hit on your driver, right?" He sneered, looking at the can, then back at Milan. He approached the chair now. "This is like the best bad dream I've ever had," he said, shrugging. "What do I do, Milan?" He said to her. "You're gorgeous. Like — obviously, millions of dollars gorgeous. And…you have fucking superpowers now?" He sat on the arm of her chair, tipping back the rest of the soda. "And you come to me — like, I'm literally the first person you confide in over this thing, if you're being serious — and I'm supposed to say, what?" He laughed aloud. "I'm involved?" He continued laughing – and now it sounded more like a nervous chitter. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. "Like you weren't intimidating enough?" Milan sat back, feeling a little bad now.

"Oh, God — I swear I didn't know you were involved…you've never talked about it!"

"I'm your driver!" Andrew said back to her. "I'm supposed to make your life as easy as possible, not bore you with mine." For the first time, Milan blushed a little.

"I feel a little stupid," Milan said. "And my whole speech about..." She gritted her teeth. "How involved?" Andrew stood up off the chair, laughing again.

"Like, dating a few months involved," he said. "I mean, I'm not planning on getting married, but…seriously, Milan — one of the most beautiful women in the world, and she's like a superhero, or a witch, or something?" He rubbed his face with one hand while putting the soda can down on the bar across the room. "I mean, you're absolutely killing me."

"Well — we can both keep secrets, right?" Andrew felt pressure against his crotch, and his jaw dropped as he looked down at his slacks. His pants were moving on their own — as if being grabbed by an invisible hand. He let out a little moan and looked back up at Milan, sitting in her chair and looking up at him mischievously.

"Good God, don't let me wake up now…" Andrew said. "How long, Milan?" She snickered. He could feel the pressure against his dick tighten and articulate.

"Seems like about six inches at the moment — but I don't really have a total feel for the remote sensory thing yet…" He laughed a little when she said it, and she rose out of her chair again — just as supernaturally as before.

"I m-mean, how long have you thought about hitting on me?" Andrew stuttered as she practically hovered toward him.

"Since your first day," Milan said. "But I was involved then...and someone like me doesn't know what kind of girlycrush bullshit I'm dealing with right away." Her voice got lower as she approached. Quieter. "There's so much charm I get bored of so easily," she said, right in front of his face now. He was breathing heavily as she approached — her ghostly presence still manipulating the crotch of his pants. "But you know things about me, Andrew — things that I've never read in an online article. Things that never got back to me on social media at three in the morning." She smiled at him. Andrew reciprocated, however slowly. "I've always been able to trust you…and what was I supposed to do? Keep all of this to myself?" As Milan wrapped her arms around him, their lips moved in toward each other as she psychically pulled him off the ground.

They began to kiss when a knock came on the door.

"Shit!" Milan whispered, pulling away a little and trying not to giggle as she quickly set their feet back on the ground. Andrew wobbled slightly, regaining his footing as gravity returned. Just before the door opened, Milan launched herself backward into the chair — using her ability to make sure she landed properly.

"I'm back!" Came Tabitha's voice from the doorway as a clothing rack was pushed in first. "Now, I have two full racks for you — and the boots should be right up," she said.

Andrew quickly came to his senses and helped the young woman with the rack jammed against the door, holding it open for her as he pulled it inside the room.

"Thank you!" Tabitha said, focusing on pulling in the rack behind her now. She looked at the slightly red-faced Milan. "Shall I...leave you and your guest to start, or...?"

"Sure," Milan smirked. "In fact...you wouldn't mind grabbing us some ice and a Rhum Agricole, would you?" Tabitha blinked a couple of times, smirking back at her.

"Of--of course, Miss Moretti!" Tabitha squeaked, stepping toward her. "Ummm...it's a lot of clothes," she said quietly. "Did you want to just...ring down to the desk when you're ready to resize and change some things up?" The clerk winked.

"That's perfect," Milan grinned. "Thanks, Tabitha." The young woman nodded to Andrew as she walked out. Andrew just nodded back with a shy smile.

"There's a girl who can read a room," Milan said a few seconds after the door clicked. "Shall we pick up where we left off, or did you want to wait for the boots?" Milan asked.

Andrew could feel himself starting to sweat.