Despite the kitschy name, the Knot Sew was the sort of upscale boutique where they offered their customers free champagne while they shopped—in Asphodel’s case, it was as soon as the door chimed upon her entrance and the receptionist correctly recognized the finely dressed vampire as a potential client (with deep pockets) rather than a window shopper. That was before she even informed the woman she had an appointment, one set under the name Leah De Moreton.
That was lucky for her: if the vampire had to deal with a single delay at this moment, she would’ve hypnotized the poor woman into next week. The damnable sun wouldn’t kill her outright, but it had her feeling so ridiculously human. Weak, like her joints were a little loose in her sockets, and hungry, the sound of the surrounding heartbeats thumping in her ears. However, she was somewhat accustomed to dealing with the sun-sickness, as she called it. Not all appointments could be made after dark or handled by human gofers. She was old enough to keep her composure and smiled at the woman before telling her she was waiting on someone.
Rather than wait for Max in the sunlit foyer, Asphodel described him to the receptionist and then had her take her back to a wide open fitting room with three mirrors standing around a low dais. From the color palette of the sample outfits, it was clearly for men’s wear. She shut the door behind her, leaving her alone in the room with bolts of fabric, and sighed in relief. Removing her hat, she stepped up to one of the mirrors next to the dais to fix her pale hair in peace.
