Window Shopping

A sigh passed through Anri's lips as she mindlessly straightened the purse on the wall display. It was a Thursday, one of the slowest days in the designer brand shop. Which, to be honest, wasn't particularly out of the norm for the shop in general; the lack of brand exposure compared to nearby shops in the mall like Gucci and Moncler meant it was slow even on the weekends, rendering Thursdays as a "one customer a day" sort of shift.

Not that it mattered to Anri either way. She was in her third year of fashion design at the UW, and during days with no classes she'd pick up shifts at the designer shop since it was close to her apartment in Bellevue. Even with its sterile atmosphere, standing around for hours with the white noise of the shop's endless runway house playlist, at least it was something to do.

Especially now that she was single.

The iPhone in her hand buzzed. Lifting the phone to her eyes she saw that it was the guy she matched with on Tinder. He'd sent a text with a restaurant recommendation for their date tonight.

She texted him back- she wasn't prone to being someone who left people waiting for a reply.

wow, never been but i've heard good things!! let's do it ☺️

The impassive frown on her lips stayed the same.

She waited for another reply, tucking a lock of her straight hair behind the shell of her ear. He gave a thumbs up to her message, prompting Anri to lock her phone.

With another quiet sigh she went about to menially straighten the purses. Her eyes caught on her reflection on the mirror wall right behind the chic golden cage of purses.

She appraised herself (out of boredom more than anything), slightly turning to see if her makeup was okay, running fingers through the long hair that framed her face and ran down past her chest, fingers straightening the short bangs that covered her forehead, its bottom curtain cut straight atop her eyebrows.

Being half Japanese and half Korean, her genetics granted her a mix of subtle features. Her Japanese lineage gave her the rounder eyes and the taller nose, her Korean lineage giving her fuller lips and higher cheekbones (something she used to hold significant insecurity for since they made her round cheeks look like baby fat, making her look younger for her age even compared to her Asian friends).

But for most people who weren't familiar with the facial nuances and subtleties Asian women obsess over, she just looked like the quintessential Asian young woman: the straight jet-black hair, the milky-white complexion, and most annoyingly, the petite height.

Anri brought a hand up to her cheek, softly poking it into the powder and blush as she inflated her cheek. Despite her flawless skin she wondered if she should apply another moisturizing face mask in the morning vs. just one before bed.

Yes, despite being born here in the States, she'd been swept up by all the Asian beauty standards she'd encounter during visits to the homeland. Which wasn't really a problem, she liked the way she looked. And besides, men didn't really give a shit about her skincare routine anyway.

Her date suddenly flashed through her mind, and then her ex. Her face returned to its default impassive frown. She remembered her last long-term relationship had deteriorated. He was her second boyfriend. They'd been together since senior year of high school, going to the same college, the same church, their parents being friends. He was Korean-American, someone she'd known through the family. She'd loved him, sure, but the comfort of knowing he was a "safe" option led to the last couple years being utterly flat, complacent in each other, going through the motions of what a good, safe Asian couple should be.

It's probably what led to him cheating on her.

The memory of her friend calling her to tell the discovery soured Anri's frown further.

The worst part of the breakup was that she wasn't sad at all. The only thing she felt was the revelation that she'd wasted several years of her life with "safe", and got nothing else out of it other than being cheated on.

It's been six months since then, and Anri was more than ready to be a bit more adventurous, taking on dates with whatever cute guys her friends introduced her to. At first, she didn't exactly know where she was going with her love life. She wasn't exactly the type to sleep around; her ex was the only guy she'd slept with. So she definitely didn't see herself as someone who would sleep with guys before a relationship, much less just after a first date.

It took five or six dates before she gave in.

The first guy was Jin, a mutual friend visiting from Portland who obviously went to the gym a lot. Her ex was far from fit, and her eyes were obvious when they'd gone for some dinner at the revolving sushi bar downtown. He fucked her in his apartment, and for the first time in a long time, Anri found herself enjoying sex.

There was something absolutely thrilling about appraising a man within the first hour or so of meeting them, and letting what was functionally a total stranger have his way with you. Was this what women talked about in all those tweets and blog posts?

Despite only reaching one orgasm during that session when she coaxed three out of him, the utter thrill of hook-up culture had taken its hold on her. She wasn't in it for a relationship after this point, but a good time.

They hooked up twice after that, but soon enough she found that he was a little too concerned with using her petite body than actually making her reach her own climax. He went back to Portland anyway, and Anri kept up her search.

The second guy a couple months after that was even worse.

After expending her friends' recommendations and mutual friends of more of the same Asian-American bores with the exact same undercut + sidepart haircut and the exact same taste in music, she decided to expand her dating pool. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, she became a serial dating app user. She'd never had any dating experience with anyone who wasn't Asian, so there was a streak of...taboo about it? She wondered how her friends would react to having an "outsider" pull up to a function, or worse, her parents' face.

The first guy she decided to give a shot turned out to be yet another dud, white or not.

He was one of those scrawny and pasty cryptocurrency silicon valley remote worker losers working at the local Microsoft. But his brash confidence and firm handle on conversation attracted her in some way that night, exacerbated by the still-fresh thrill of hooking up with someone compounded with the fact that he was white (but in retrospect, maybe it was just the IPAs). By the end of the night they were back in his place. She was excited at the prospect, really, seeing what the fuss was about with fucking a white guy.

Turns out it wasn't anything much. Sure, he was a bit bigger than what she was used to from the average fellow Asian guy but within fifteen minutes and he was done, rolling off of her and giving a satisfied sigh and insufferable grin. She never called him back after that.

Anri rolled her eyes at the memory.

In the next few months, she tried being pickier. But after sleeping with two more men, the results were all the same: she never came with any of them. At this point Anri considered maybe she was being too demanding. Just within half a year she'd gone from "no sex before a relationship" to "sex minutes after a first date" sort of girl. Maybe she just...had to go back to her previous standards. Really get to know a guy before giving in to the thrill of spreading her legs to someone she barely knew. After all wasn't she just functionally a...slut at this point?

The word made Anri narrow her eyes, focusing in on her face. She'd slept with four guys in the past half year, when before she'd only slept with one. She shook the notion from her head. No, she was just exploring herself. She was only 22 after all. If anything, she felt like she'd been wasting her youth; just think of all the sex she'd been missing out on!

And what kind of slut ends up with guys that never made her satisfied?

For now, she'd just keep searching.

Anri sighed again, picking her phone up to scroll through Bumble. She could tell that her Tinder date wasn't going to be the one who'd break the trend.

Outside of the store, a man stopped in his tracks.

His eyes drank in the sight behind the store window: a pair of milky white legs, perched on black stiletto heels secured by straps girding her ankles, stretching up into a perfect and perky tight ass, hugged by a striped skintight dress that cut off high on her thigh. He'd drink in the rest of her if it weren't for the storefront display blocking the view, hanging obnoxiously in its gaudy gold lettering to block everything above her hips. The stranger weighed his options, feeling a familiar fire light in his loins.

He was only in the mall to window shop, burn some time after completing the negotiations he'd overseen for the business trip a couple days early. But in this case, it looked like there was only one way to sate his curiosity. He looked around him instinctively, as if someone would care if some guy walked into a store to check out its sole employee.

Nobody. It was a Thursday after all, and even if it wasn't, he was deep into the back of the higher-end section of the mall. He'd passed the bigger name brands that had a handful of shoppers mulling about, the Gucci, the Moncler. But here was a no-name designer he'd never heard of, nestled between a Leica store and a TUMI store. Both of which had decided to close early today.

A grin spread on his lips.

Emboldened, the stranger casually walked into the store, running a hand running through his hair before plunging into his pocket.

The moment he passed the door, his eyes found the rest of his mark. His mouth watered. As expected, the perfect legs matched the rest of this hottie's perfect figure.

From the back he could already tell she was Asian, her petite frame topped with perfectly straight black hair that went down half her back. She was short, 5'1" at the most, discounting the few inches her stilettos gave her. He imagined effortlessly picking her up by that thin waist of hers before his gaze wandered further down her back again. God, her ass was also perfect, each cheek perfectly filling both of his palms if he was given the opportunity.

She wore a tight sweater dress with short sleeves, monochrome with stripes that alternated in thickness running laterally around her. Luckily for him she hadn't noticed him yet as she tapped along on her phone, giving him more ample time to check out her figure. She reached up to tuck hair behind her ear, the glint of studded earrings winking at him as he tried to catch a glimpse of the back of her neck.

He caught the reflection of her face in the mirror wall set behind the shelves and racks of purses, accessories, and other designer goods opposite from her, the entire wall a mirror. Her face was beautiful, perfect makeup accentuating her blushed cheeks, mascara lining her wide eyes, pink lipstick the color of her tongue rimming her lips. The more he looked the more the stranger felt himself grow excited.

It'd been over a month since his last lay and he was pent-up; in his mind he might as well be a fucking virgin again. And after a long week of business far this far up north, he was more than a little eager to hit up the hotel bar at the Marriot he was staying or a dating app for some action with a local slut.

But right now, he'd take his chances to pick up some mall employee, especially one this hot. It wouldn't be the first time.

It was then that Anri looked up from her phone into her reflection, suddenly aware of a man entering the store, standing in the entrance behind her.

She instantly put on her customer service smile, turning to face him and putting her hands behind her back.

"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome on in!"

The stranger gave her a charming smile.

"Hey there. How're you doing?"

Anri slowly walked up to him, getting a good look at him for the first time. He was a white guy, the scruff on his chin letting her know he was a bit older than her, late 20s at the youngest and early 30s at the oldest. He was tall, at least 6'4 or so, her head craning up to meet his eyes as she kept up the typical customer small talk. She shrugged.

"Good! Just um, the usual." Anri said, eyes flitting to the floor as a finger scratched at the wrist she clasped behind her back. She was never really good at the small talk. "Yourself?"

"Yeah, you look a little swamped." he said, giving the empty store an exaggerated once-over before he gave her one of those smiles. Anri obliged him with a silent chuckle. "Nah, but I'm doing alright. Just wrapping up my business trip, thought I'd poke around the mall and window shop to burn some time."

He dropped the anecdote here at the beginning of their conversation purposefully. Not only to keep the small talk going, but because he knew the question she'd ask him next, and that he'd pique her interest with the answer.

"Ah, I see. So you're from out of town?"

"Yeah, I'm flying out this Saturday, actually. Wrapped up a little bit early."

There it was, the precedent; he knew women liked zero strings. If they got to know each other in the way he wanted, she wouldn't have to worry about running into him again. He wondered if she had a boyfriend.

"That's great!" Anri said, giving him another fake smile before she gave a little gesture inward to the shop. "So, what brings you in? Just browsing?"

"Yeah," the stranger said, suddenly turning towards the nearest display and strolled over to it. Anri followed his lead. He let a little silence settle between them, replaced by the click of her stilettos. He rounded the display, a circular glass table with goods spread in an array. There was a casual nonchalance in his face as he idly ran his finger over some scarves. "Pretty much."

His eyes peered up at her then. He never liked to fuck around too much and waste time with the small talk. He took risks, shots in the dark to see if the women would be worth the time at all. He fired his first shot.

"To be honest this was the first shop I came into today."

"Oh, wow." Anri said, trying to sound more genuine. But she knew she was failing at it, something in the way the man looked at her. "Something catch your eye?"

The man didn't respond immediately, instead giving Anri a onceover. It was subtle, but not subtle enough where she wouldn't notice.

The look made Anri's eyes narrow a little. Was he...?

"Yeah, actually," he said, straightening up a bit and approaching her, eyes still on her body. Alarm bells went off in Anri's head. "...that's a gorgeous dress," he continued, getting just close enough without making Anri feel anymore uncomfortable, hands careful not to touch her. "And I thought I'd get something similar for my girlfriend back home."

He handed her a kind smile, a warm one that didn't have a hint of sleaze or obvious malintent. He was good at gauging which of his smiles worked in certain contexts, and right now he wanted to make her feel like he was someone she could trust. The context of a made-up girlfriend usually did the trick if he sold it well enough.

Anri bought it, breathing an internal sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was some customer hitting on her.

"I-I see! Well, unfortunately, um, we actually don't carry...this particular-"

"Ah," he said, a knowing grin on his face as he nodded. He lowered his tone conspiratorially, keeping his eyes on hers. "Garb from a rival designer? I gotchu, no harm no foul. Your secret's safe with me."

Anri let out a small chuckle at the stupid joke, a more genuine one.

"I appreciate it."

"I'm sure you'd make any dress look as good as this one, anyway." the man added, almost as an afterthought. The blatant flirt didn't go unnoticed, especially with the quick glance he gave her figure. Before Anri could react, he continued. "How about...anything similar? Never heard of your brand before, and I'm sure she'd like something from a designer that looks as good as this one."

"Yes, of course! If you could follow me, please."

Anri led the way this time deeper into the store, heels clicking almost in time with the house music spilling from the speakers.

This guy was definitely hitting on her. She was more prescient of the fact that he was behind her now, wondering if his eyes were on her body.

And yet, there was something about him. She couldn't believe she was thinking this, but despite the fact that they'd just met and that he apparently had a girlfriend...she didn't mind the flirts. It was annoying when guys would attempt it on her at work. They always came off sleazy and desperate, but there was a suave quality to this stranger that piqued her interest. Beyond just words, it was the way he looked at her, the way he measured his words before he spoke. He didn't just feel like a boy trying to get his rocks off, but he gave her the aura of a man, as cliche of a sentiment that was.

Behind her, the stranger's eyes were fixated on her ass. He tried being subtle about it, what with the mirror wall and everything, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the way Anri's hips shifted with every step of those perfect legs, the way her thighs subtly shuddered with every step.

Before he knew it she was turning to look at him. They'd arrived at the rack for dresses.

Anri saw his eyes flick up to her, just half a moment too late. She smirked at his lack of self-control. But again, she wasn't as creeped out or grossed out as she probably should have been. She suddenly felt that thrill, that simmering tension she'd get from her numerous first dates. The way he looked at her was one she was more than familiar with, one that several said first dates had cast across a table or a glass of wine.

"Here you go," Anri said, motioning to the wide rack of various dresses. There was another rack directly behind her with a different selection of garments. She clasped her hands behind her back again as she watched him rifle through the first rack. "Any particular color or pattern that you know she likes?"

The man shook his head, lips playfully pursed in a bemused fashion that ensured Anri's amused smirk remained on hers. He turned to her with a clueless look.

"Out of my expertise, honestly."

"Really? You seemed to like the one I was wearing."

There it was, the first shot back. It didn't mean he'd won her over yet, of course. Far from it. But he'd piqued her interest. If he played it right he'd have her out of that dress back at the Marriott by day's end.

The stranger grinned, putting down the dress he was absentmindedly looking at, meeting her look. He tried reading her eyes, and saw just a bit of challenge. Her customer service facade was crumbling quickly. She was starting to play the game he'd set up, and why wouldn't she? She must have been bored tending to the shop all day, alone.

He gave her another onceover, being more brazen this time, taking his time with her curves with appraising eyes. Anri beared it. In the brief silence she really got a good look at him, not just a cursory look at his surface-level features, but appraising him back. She liked what she saw.

Businessman or whatever he was, he was certainly fit. In his simple outfit of a dress shirt, tailored trousers, and a crisp pair of white Stan Smiths, she could see the faint outlines of his physique. Nothing too big, but there was definitely a slight strain against the fabric of his sleeves as he lifted an arm to lean against the dress rack. He had a perfect tan that complimented his sharp eyes, and she tried not to stare at the hints of chest hair peeking through the gap left by the unbuttoned first button of his shirt.