Richest Man: It All Started With My Rebate System-Chapter 19: Heading To The Appointment

The nearest store where Steven could find ready-to-wear formal clothing was a ten-minute drive from the condo.

He parked along the kerb, stepped out, and walked through the entrance. The store was mid-range but well stocked, with display racks organised by category and a clean, unhurried feel to it.

It didn’t look like the kind of place that catered exclusively to suits, but it had a dedicated formal section that was visible from the entrance, and that was enough.

He was making his way toward the nearest rack when a salesperson noticed him and walked over with a professional smile.

"Good afternoon. Is there something I can help you find today?"

"I need a suit," Steven said. "I have a meeting this afternoon, so I don’t have a lot of time."

"Of course. Do you have a colour in mind?"

Steven thought about it briefly. "Navy or charcoal. Something that works for a formal setting without being overdone."

She nodded and led him to the formal section without hesitation. She pulled two jackets from the rack,one charcoal grey and one deep navy, and held them up side by side.

"These are both solid options. The charcoal reads slightly more traditional. The navy is a bit more current but still fully appropriate for a formal meeting," she said.

Steven looked at both for a moment. "The navy."

She returned the charcoal to the rack and guided him through the rest of the selection. A pair of matching trousers in the same shade. A white dress shirt with a clean collar. A dark leather belt. She asked about shoes and he told her he had a pair of white sneakers on him, which were the only shoes he owned.

She didn’t react to that. She simply turned and walked him to the footwear section, where she pulled out a pair of black Oxford shoes in his size, set them on the low bench, and stood back while he tried them on.

They fit well enough.

"These work," he said, standing up.

"You’ll also want a tie," she said. "A solid navy or a subtle pattern. Either would pair well with what you have."

She showed him two options. He picked the one with a subtle pattern without deliberating over it.

Steven was not someone familiar with this kind of things, and he was just going with his feel and what he saw online.

The salesperson gathered everything and led him to the fitting room, where he tried the full combination on. He stepped out a minute later and stood in front of the mirror. The fit wasn’t bespoke, but it was close enough. The jacket sat correctly across his shoulders, the trousers broke cleanly at the shoe, and the overall impression was composed and deliberate.

He looked like someone who had somewhere important to be.

"It works," he said, acknowledging his appearance.

"It does," she agreed.

He changed back into his own clothes, handed her the items, and followed her to the counter. She folded and packaged everything carefully, placing each piece into a garment bag and the shoes into a separate box, then slid it all into two bags.

"That comes to $1,350."

Steven handed her his card. She processed it and handed it back.

[You spent $1,350. A 3x rebate was triggered.]

[You received $4,050. The money has been transferred to your account.]

"Thank you. Good luck with your meeting," the salesperson said, handing the two bags to him.

"Thanks," Steven said, collecting the bags.

He walked back through the store and pushed through the entrance door, stepping out into the afternoon air with the bags in hand.

He crossed to where his car sat along the kerb and opened the passenger door, setting the bags carefully on the seat before walking around to the driver’s side and getting in.

He started the car and drove off, making way home back to the condo.

***

Twelve minutes later, Steven stepped into his apartment with the bags in hand. He walked straight to the bedroom and laid them flat on the bed, unzipping the garment bag carefully and pulling each piece free.

He hung the jacket on the back of the bedroom door, draped the trousers over the hanger beside it, and set the shirt on the bed. Then he stepped into the bathroom to shower, in preparation for the meeting.

A few minutes later, he stepped out, dried off, and moved back into the bedroom.

He started with the shirt, working the buttons from the bottom up and leaving the collar open for now. Then the trousers, which he pulled on and fastened at the waist, adjusting until the fit sat where it was supposed to.

He threaded the dark leather belt through the loops and buckled it, then sat on the edge of the bed to put on the Oxford shoes, pulling each lace tight and tying them cleanly.

He stood up and reached for the jacket.

He put it on slowly, settling it across his shoulders the same way he had in the fitting room, and adjusted the lapels until they lay flat. Then he turned to face the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door.

He stood there for a moment and just looked.

The man looking back at him was not someone he immediately recognised, and not because anything about his face had changed. It was something in the overall impression. The way the navy pulled together. The way the jacket gave his frame a structure it didn’t normally have. The shirt was clean and the collar sat right, and the tie, which he hadn’t been sure about in the store, actually completed the whole thing rather than interrupting it.

He had seen men dressed like this his entire life in television. It had always seemed like a costume to him, something that belonged to a version of life that had its own separate entrance.

He was wearing it now and it didn’t feel like a costume.

He reached for the wristwatch on the bedside table and fastened it to his left wrist, adjusting the strap until it sat correctly. He looked at it against the cuff of the shirt and nodded once.

The salesperson at the watch store had called it an excellent choice without a great deal of conviction. He understood now that she had been right, even if she hadn’t meant it the way it was landing.

Steven picked up his phone from the bed and checked the time.

Twenty past two.

He had a little under forty minutes before the meeting, and the drive was fifteen minutes at most. That was enough time, but not enough to be careless with. He needed to leave within the next ten minutes to give himself a reasonable buffer for parking and walking in without appearing rushed. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

He pocketed the phone and took one last look in the mirror.

He had stood in front of mirrors most of his life without giving much thought to what he saw. There had never been much worth pausing for. A tired face. Clothes that had done more than their fair share of years. The particular look of someone who was managing, but only just.

The reflection in front of him now was not that.

He thought about his mother, the way he had been thinking about her more frequently over these past two days. She had always been precise about presentation.

There was a difference she had tried to explain to him once and he hadn’t fully understood it at the time. Vanity was about how you wanted others to see you. Precision was about showing up as the best available version of yourself, because the people you were meeting deserved that, and so did you.

He thought he understood it now.

He turned away from the mirror and walked to the living area.

He moved through the room with a purpose, switching off the television and the kitchen light. He closed the laptop and held the power button until the screen went dark, then set it flush against the edge of the table.

The console he switched to rest mode rather than powering down fully. The downloads would continue in the background. They would be waiting for him when he got back.

He scanned the room once, doing a final check to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

Everything was off that needed to be off. Everything was where it should be.

He picked up his car key and key card from the side table, slid his phone into his jacket pocket, and walked to the front door.

He stepped out of the apartment and closed the door. He pressed the key card against the entry reader and held it there until he heard the beep and felt the lock mechanism engage behind him.

He walked to the elevator and pressed the call button. The doors slid open immediately.

He stepped in, turned, and pressed the button for the garage level.

The doors closed and the elevator began to descend.

Few minutes later, the elevator stopped and the doors opened to the garage.

Steven stepped out, spotted the Aston Martin where he had left it, and walked toward it without hurrying.

He got in, settled into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. The sound came up from beneath him, filling the underground garage.

He pulled out of the space and drove toward the exit ramp, heading for the meeting.