"Like I say. I appreciate it."

Jason smirks and looks flattered for a moment. He knows he's pretty, thanks to the Compson fortune before his parents and siblings pissed it away. Nosejob at sixteen, invisible braces through his adolescence, and most importantly, he was raised to carry himself in a way that marks him as one of the elite. Confidence, arrogance, superiority can hide all sorts of parts of someone's face or body that might otherwise cast them out of the echelons of handsome men. He runs his hand through his hair.

"Besides, I may have more luck getting my charges something to eat if I'm not running to Sponsor meetings wearing...this." He gestures to the suit, the loose thread at the corner of his cuff, the awkward stitch along the knee, and he actually does look ashamed and angry at the entire world, the entire universe, for just a moment. Humiliated that his financial status is so obvious. His face is slightly reddened.

"Do you do sizing, measurement, the entire thing or do I just pop by, see your assistant for ten minutes and then see a full suit in a week?"