through the galaxy. Mall of the Universe was similarly shaped, but firmly planted on the ground with a planetarium at its hub. The mall contained not only hundreds of stores, but also a nightclub, a roller rink, and a bowling alley, as well as a hotel and an apartment building on opposite sides of the mall, and a mid-rise condominium standing sentinel over all four mall levels, which were named Earth, Moon, Sun, and Stars.
Derek had assumed they would meet Davii in the food court, since there was one on the Earth level, but they walked past it, then Vienna pulled him into a hair salon. He was overcome by loud music and the acrid smell of perm solution, which almost made him yearn to return to Drayden’s and the insufferable Lvandsson legend. Vienna dragged him to the end of a row of chairs, where a handsome man dressed in black was cutting a client’s hair.
“Davii!” Vienna shrieked.
“Vienna!” Davii roared. He flung his arms around Vienna, and for a moment Derek was afraid Davii had plunged his scissors into her back. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning to Drayden’s without her.
“I missed you,” Vienna said. “This has been the longest day ever.”
“I know,” Davii commiserated. He resumed snipping his client’s hair as he said, “I’ve been slaving away here for hours. Ages!”
“It’s only noon,” Derek said, checking his watch to be sure. Davii looked at him with an unreadable expression. Derek immediately worried that Davii hated his hair.
“Davii, this is Derek,” Vienna said, putting her arm around Derek’s waist. “He’s been my saving grace today. We’re in training together, and he’s been so witty and clever, providing a much-needed stimulus in a dull setting. Very entertaining. He reminds me of you.”
“Really?” Davii said, looking skeptical. Derek felt dubious about her remark as well. Visually, he and Davii were polar opposites. Davii was tall and lithe; his face angular and striking, with deep blue eyes framed by long eyelashes. His black hair was cut in a trendy, spiky style. If Derek’s look was as American as apple pie, then Davii was a crème brulée or an Italian pastry. Something European and decadent; Derek couldn’t be sure exactly. Davii arched an eyebrow and said, “Oh, well, any friend of Vienna’s—”
“Should be isolated and studied in a controlled environment!” Vienna interjected, and the two of them burst out laughing. The client in Davii’s chair looked mildly annoyed, until he stopped laughing and turned her head sharply to the left so he could cut the back of her hair.
“I’ve got stories,” Davii stated.
“Who?” Vienna asked.
Though her chin was pushed down into her chest, Derek saw the client’s eyebrows perk up at the mention of gossip.
“Glenda, our manager, was fired,” Davii stage-whispered, though it was unnecessary because of the loud music.
“No. Really?” Vienna said. “What happened?”
“She was taking long lunch breaks,” he answered.
“That doesn’t seem like a reason to fire someone,” Derek said.
“It does when you spend your lunch breaks in the broom closet,” Davii said.
“Why would she eat her lunch in a broom closet?” Vienna asked. “Did she have an eating disorder? Sometimes bulimics binge in private.”
“Glenda was bingeing, but not on food,” Davii said. “And she wasn’t eating alone, either. Did I mention that Betty, the shampoo girl, was fired, too?”
Vienna’s perfectly lined eyes grew wide, and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, that’s—”
“Stupid, right? I mean, when I want a nooner, I’ll go to the top floor of the parking garage like a normal person!” Davii exclaimed.
“Are you going to try to get her position?” Vienna asked.
“I could,” Davii mused, “but I’m not that nimble. It’s an awfully small closet.”
Derek laughed, and Vienna admonished, “Don’t encourage him, Derek.”
“No. I don’t think so,” Davii answered. “I’m not nearly responsible enough to be a manager. Nor would I want to be. Too much time would be taken up organizing and running this place. I’d rather do hair and collect tips.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Vienna said.
“I’m always right,” Davii said emphatically. He surveyed his client’s hair and said, “Listen, you two had better run along. I don’t want you to be late getting back to work, and I’m fucking up Brenda’s hair.”
Davii’s client lifted her head in alarm and stared at herself in the mirror, looking for carnage.
“Okay. I’ll see you later,” Vienna said and kissed Davii’s cheek.
“It was nice to meet you, Davii,” Derek said.
“You, too. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. We’ll all go for drinks sometime. Ciao, bello! Ciao, bella!”
“He’s a trip,” Derek remarked once they’d left the salon.
“Davii? Yeah. You could say that,” Vienna said. “But outside the salon he’s not so—”
“Theatrical?” Derek suggested.
“I was going to say flaming, but that will do,” Vienna said. “It’s all a performance. He’s giving his clients what they expect of him. Playing up the stereotype. Oddly enough, they tip him more if he does.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s true. At home, Davii is really quiet and reserved. We share an apartment in the Galaxy Building.” She pointed toward the apartment tower at the end of the mall. “It’s a two-bedroom. Davii’s not my boyfriend or anything.”
“I figured as much,” Derek said. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant,” Vienna said. “Listen to me, Derek. I’m giving you some free advice. You’re a gay man who’s about to begin a career in sales. You don’t think people will look at you and draw their own conclusions without knowing you? Get real. If you play it straight, they won’t listen to a word you say and you won’t sell anything. If you gay it up a notch, they’ll think you’re a genius. Think about the gay stereotype. Supposedly all gay men have amazing style and can make anything or anyone fabulous. Davii could give a woman a Mohawk and make her think she’s transformed for the better. Like my daddy always said, it takes a lot of manure to make a garden.”
“That sounds like Drayden’s propaganda to me,” Derek said.
Vienna grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the food court, saying, “Speaking of which, if we don’t get moving, we’ll be late.”
After a hurried lunch, they returned to the store for more History of Drayden’s 101. The Lvandsson family saga continued into the eighties, when Drayden Lvandsson finally returned from Hollywood to help his father run the company. Drayden had connections in the fashion industry and convinced many of them to sell their clothes and accessories in his stores. Business boomed, and Drayden’s opened stores all over the Midwest.
After the market crash of 1987, Sven Lvandsson returned to handle Drayden’s economic concerns. Henrietta retired from the racing circuit a few years later and secured a job as Director of Operations. Though she ran routine inspections of every store and made sure they functioned like a well-oiled race car, she spent the majority of her time managing the shipping and receiving warehouse.
Surprisingly, Derek enjoyed the rest of their orientation. Drayden’s was a respected department store chain, often recognized for enriching and giving back to the communities where its stores were located. The stores carried the finest quality merchandise and had beautifully inventive window displays. The atmosphere