“Check you out, secret agent man.” Leif’s brother, Torin, chortled loudly in the changing room of Luxe Tux. The small tuxedo rental shop was in a strip mall off the main highway, and it was frequented mainly for proms and weddings. The shop had a sort of persistently dusty feel to it; even though the place was spotless, you could feel the clock ticking down to the store’s inevitable obsolescence.
Leif despised trying on uncomfortable clothes under harsh fluorescent lighting, but he’d do anything for his brothers, even squeeze into a tuxedo. Well, almost anything. “Do we really have to wear cummerbunds?” Leif held up a forest green strip of fabric between two fingers like it was something squishy he’d found under a couch.
“That’s a question for Sig.” Torin popped a macadamia nut into his
