Time of Fate (Wealth of Time Series #6) by Andre Gonzalez (books on motivation .txt) 📕

“Good morning,” Martin said, scanning the store. “I’m looking for a basic suit to change into right now and walk out with. Don’t need anything fancy.”

Martin couldn’t recall having ever been in a suit store at any point in his life, typically buying his professional attire from department store bargain racks. The vast availability was overwhelming, and he trusted the salesman would do his best to upsell him on things he surely didn’t need.

“Certainly,” the man said. “My name is Gordy, and I’d be happy to get the right pieces together for you. Do you prefer neutral colors, or something more pastel?”

“I like gray suits, nothing flashy.”

“Absolutely, please follow me.” Gordy pivoted and dashed away, Martin taking big steps to keep up with the little man. “Is there a particular occasion? Wedding? Big Valentine’s date in a couple days?”

“Just looking for another outfit for work. I work only a couple blocks down and thought I’d treat myself to a new suit before heading in for the day.”

“Ahh, of course, let’s have a look here. Would you mind raising your arms outward to the side?” Before he could even process the question and react, Martin watched as Gordy knelt down and ran a tape measure from the inside of his ankle up toward his crotch, making him squirm at the unexpected sensation. He was done within seconds and stood up to finish measuring from Martin’s wrist to armpit. “Let me pull some items.”

Gordy skimmed through the rack, pulling pants, jackets, and shirts in rapid succession. Martin looked around to see if anyone else had such an energetic employee helping them, and only spotted two other men in the whole store, one already dressed in a suit, a fedora cocked over his eyes as he browsed a spinning rack of ties. The other in a long, tan trench coat, standing next to the changing rooms.

Just me. How lucky, Martin thought.

“What do you think?” Gordy asked, holding up three suit jackets, each a different shade of gray from light to dark. Martin pointed to the darkest one, and Gordy’s face lit up with joy. “One of my favorites. The color is called gun metal. A bit aggressive of a name, mind you, but definitely a powerful color, great for delivering presentations to large groups.”

It occurred to Martin that this suit was actually more than something to wear as a decoy. He’d be able to keep and deliver his victory speech while wearing it, a new look for the winning commander.

Or be buried in it, his conscience reminded.

“I give a few presentations,” Martin said. “This one should work just fine.”

Gordy smiled, satisfied with once again matching the perfect suit to a client in need. After another fifteen minutes of upselling ties, shoes, and a pocket square, Martin stepped out of the store and back onto the mall, ready to see Izzy for the final time, unaware that the two other customers inside were now following him.

* * *

Martin had three hours to kill until noon when he planned to make his move and bump into Izzy. He had taken a moment to find a diner and dove into a breakfast burrito much bigger than his head, and to think of how this morning had played out all those years ago.

The date was easy to remember. It was Izzy’s eleventh birthday, in which she and Lela had come downtown to visit Martin before grabbing lunch as part of a fun-filled day. Martin had to work, and his earlier shift didn’t allow him to take his break at a good time to meet them, leaving him to settle for a quick five-minute chat before getting off at two to join them at the movie theater for a showing of Billy Madison. Martin remembered this detail because he and Lela had gotten into a small argument about taking Izzy to see it, since she was right on the cusp of the age to see a comedy of that nature. Izzy had wanted to see it, and since it was for her birthday, Martin had caved in and agreed to it, so long as they waited for him to join.

His frustration that day was due to having a meeting at noon sharp, another reason he wasn’t able to take the rest of the day off, as the meeting was between the CEO and Martin’s team. Lela and Izzy had stopped by the office around 11:40 and talked with Martin for about fifteen minutes until he returned inside.

It was that exact moment that Martin planned to swoop in from behind, perhaps on the basis that he forgot to tell them something, and give Izzy a big hug and proper goodbye. The interaction wouldn’t have any bearing on the future, and he knew he was safe from 1995 Martin who would’ve been staring out the window of a conference room, longing for a better life without so many restraints on his schedule.

The biggest detail he had to take a guess on was the suit. He had no clue what he had actually worn that day, but had always been a fan of gray suits and took the gamble, hoping what he purchased this morning would be close enough to not draw questions from Lela.

At 11:25, Martin paid his tab and left the diner, making his way to his office building a short walk away. He’d arrive around the same time as Lela and Izzy, but would keep his distance from the scene. It seemed like centuries ago he had driven down his block in 1996 and briefly locked eyes with himself, sending Martin speeding away while he thought his head might explode. He learned his lesson the hard way about encountering his past self, and hadn’t even stuck around for the worst of it.

He bolted down the sidewalk, weaving through people taking their sweet time deciding what they wanted to eat for lunch, clogging the pedestrian traffic without a care in the world. Martin also kept