Sinful Too by Victor McGlothin

called to verify she had made it in to work. Suza couldn’t satisfy the awkward expression Dior tossed her way, the one questioning why it appeared he was checking up on her. Dior quickly dismissed it then hustled toward an anxiously awaiting war veteran. Mr. Keith’s suits were so large that she had to carry them out in shifts.
    When he stepped out of the changing room in a light brown outfit, superbly customized to fit his unusual build, the older man held his arms down by his side then shrugged. “Well, what do you think?”
    Dior gushed like a doting granddaughter. “I think you look very handsome. In fact, you make that suit look good.” It was easy to fuss over a grateful customer who appreciated the way a woman’s touch made him feel like a better man. She snickered when he had finally noticed a monogram stitched on the bottom of his left sleeve. He held it up to his face, seemingly confused.
    “What’s this? I didn’t pay for anything this special and how’d you know my middle name was Elston?”
    “I called your wife from the number on your alterations ticket. I thought it would add an extra touch of class to something that meant a lot to you. Mrs. Keith agreed.” Dior thought he was going to well up and cry. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me. You made my day when you came in last week, so I took care of it. Now, if you make me ruin my mascara, I’m going to charge you for the work I had done on the other jackets too.” When he realized she’d gone out of her way to please him, he reached out to hug her. Dior cooed gleefully. She almost disappeared within his massive bear hug. Richard had just walked in to see it. He also saw something else he didn’t expect, a woman who seemed hard as steel commit a random act of kindness at her own expense. As soon as the gentle giant realized they weren’t alone, he released her and took a calculated step backward.
    “You’re one of a kind, Dior, thank you. You didn’t have to go through nothing extra but you did. That says a lot about you. Most young folk see an old man and they see pity and uselessness. You saw something different.” In such a hurry to race home to share his gratitude with his wife, Mr. Keith forwent trying on the other garments. “I’m sure I’ll like them just as much,” he said in parting. “I could never say thank you enough.”
    “Bravo.” Richard applauded. He admitted overhearing their interaction. “You’re different, very . . . very different. How long has that gentleman been a customer of yours?”
    “I met him the same day you came in,” she answered with a soured expression. “How long have you been stealing people’s lines and using them in your Sunday morning praise sessions? Come out with it, Brotha Pastor. Don’t clam up on me now.”
    Richard blushed. He was actually at a loss for words. “I thought you didn’t
do
church?” was his clever response.
    “I don’t; Church TV doesn’t count and do not think that avoiding the question with a question works for me because it don’t,” she fired back, with both hands parked on her hips. She caught his eyes resting on her tight black slacks for an extended beat. He’d peeped the chest cleavage from the jump. Dior pretended not to notice. An accomplished actress in her own right, she’d ease in and out of character so often that it was difficult to know where she ended and pretending began. “Well?” she said insistently.
    “Okay, I did use a couple of exchanges from our conversation in my sermon but that’s what ministers do. We use everyday experiences to help the flock. Day-to-day application benefited the first-century church and it still works today.”
    “What-ever,” she smarted, behind a hint of a smile. “Tell your inner man to have a seat while I get your clothes.” Dior sauntered away with a natural sway to her hips. She could feel the pastor’s eyes remained locked on to them like a heat-seeking missile. Taking the time to have her