Damon Caffrey
Damon had decided he needed a little personal time. He had come to the nicest fashion district in the city, not hesitating to smile and wink and the beautiful women that he saw. Damon wasn’t looking for anyone to even share a coffee with but he was greatly appreciative of the beauty around him, especially when they wore the latest fashion in high heels and a revealing sundress that reminded all present that Spring had arrived. Damon walked down the street in a casual shirt and pants that was perhaps a little underdressed for the area but he had come here with a reason. It had been far too long since he had treated himself and purchased a new suit. He found himself window shopping here and there but wasn’t tantalized nor tempted by any thing that he saw until he came face to face with the suit display in the window of Chanel. The store’s inventory was well known across the city and Damon had always intended to check out what was so great about one of boutiques of the highest caliber. Damon glanced around as if he didn’t want anyone to see him but that wasn’t it at all, it was just more of a matter knowing that he was making a statement by entering the store, only the wealthiest shopped here and Damon had every intention of not walking out empty handed. He smiled to himself, Paris never ceased to surprise him in a way that reminded him that life on the run could be just as luxurious as his life in LA and New York.
The bell over the door jangled gently, announcing his arrival that no one turned to acknowledge as he strode over the threshold and winked a woman who met his gaze and turned away quickly. Damon walked with serious intent over to one of the numerous wracks of suits, of all different colors and styles. Damon fingered them and closed his eyes, relishing the touch of the silk running through his fingers. Damon cared very much about the message his clothes shared with the world and so ever since he had entered the world of conning he had strived to dress confidently and self-assured, knowing perfectly well that half the battle was appearing confident and certain about who you were and what you were doing. As he fingered a dark brown suit that he didn’t really feel to be his style he thought back to one of the first scams he had ever run, which included a business he had started in the Caymen islands where he sold properties to private buyers… land that he had never owned. He had forged the lease documents himself and made enough money off the deals that he could have retired than and there. But it had only been the beginning for him as he had discovered ways to forge both bank notes and personal checks into different accounts to avoid suspicion. Then he had taken to impersonating professionals that interested him… one his favorite had been a pilot; before he had realized the danger of him being in the cockpit without pilot training. So he had given that up for other things, one thing led to another and here he stood in the beautiful city of Paris with no regrets.
Damon settled on a cream-colored suit and grabbed a plum colored tie off the rack. He stared at himself in the mirror and smiled. It was perfect and he looked damned good. He adjusted a tie and out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman, dressed in a rather gothic style staring at him from across the store. Well she wasn’t staring at him, but he had caught her gaze from a distant and she had looked away almost shyly. Once again adjusting his tie he started to take a more indirect route towards this rather mysterious girl, dressed an even more strange style; who seemed to have taken an interest in his suit shopping enough to observe him from afar. Damon found himself standing behind her now. She was fingering a purple scarf… or at least Damon thought it was a scarf. “Don’t you think black would be more your… style?” He asked, his eyes amused his tone teasing as gazed at this strange girl. Paris got more and more interesting every day.