He almost felt foolish with how different he felt in the tux. The moment the jacket fell over his shoulders and he tugged it into place, August felt like a superstar. He left the leather on the floor and didn’t look back, opting for the stairs like Doren would have done, taking them two at a time when he got to the last level.
“Now just look at you,” August heard, and he turned toward the voice of the clerk that had helped him locate Doren the previous night. “A right proper gentleman in search of a right proper ride, I assume. How are you this evening, sir?”
August faked a bow. “Very well, my friend. And yourself?”
“Better now,” the man smiled.
“Oh?”
He waved August’s concern away. “Nothing, nothing. Everything is back on track and the evening is going well.” He patted the computer monitor in front of him. “Things go offline, times get tense, but we work through it until they come back again.” He smiled and nodded. “They always come back again.”