Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Sunlight streamed through Brown & Co.’s glass facade, casting golden lines on the marble floor.
Billie liked to open the shop herself when she could, preferring to feel the silence before the day began.
It gave her the illusion of order. She moved through the space with a cup of coffee in hand, pausing to adjust the drape of a jacket on one of the display forms. Every fold had to be exact.
Everything had to portray what she wanted to portray.
She eyed the clock hanging above the glass counter. Her assistant would be in soon, followed by another member of staff who worked out of the back room, and that meant the first appointment of the day would also fast approach.
She’d tried to convince herself that the name was merely one appointment amongst many, just an insignificant repeat customer, but she couldn’t hold the lie for much longer. There was precisely nothing insignificant about Debra. Nothing at all.
Billie took a slow sip of coffee and looked around the shop.
The sleek furniture, the faint scent of pressed fabric and cedar, the constant whirr of the air-conditioning.
It should have calmed her, but everything felt off-balance this morning.
Her reflection in the mirror looked as it always did—impeccable and self-contained—but she could see the crack in it now.
The sound of heels clicked against the marble floor. It would be Nina. Punctual, as she usually was after being late once and learning her lesson.
“Morning,” Billie said, her eyes fixed on London outside the window.
“Morning,” Nina’s voice was careful as always, but still bright. She carried a tablet against her chest, most likely showing the day’s schedule on the screen. “We’ve got three fittings before lunch, then you’re meeting with the supplier.”
“Good.” Billie nodded as she eyed the suit in front of her. “And the Allen appointment?”
“Confirmed.”
A pause stretched between them. Billie caught Nina’s reflection in the mirror, her back straight, neatly dressed, and every inch of her the efficient assistant she’d trained her to be.
There was still that flicker of something in her, though.
The memory of Billie’s hands. The unpredictability of their relationship that Nina saw, but what Billie thrived on.
“Come with me,” Billie said suddenly.
Nina nodded. “Of course.”
Billie led her through to the office. It was always neat in there. One wall of fabric swatches, one of mirrors, and a desk that gleamed under the morning light. She set her coffee down and gestured towards the door. “Close it.”
The click of the latch echoed through the room.
Nina stood by the desk, set her iPad down, and clasped her hands in front of her. Then she waited with that mixture of curiosity and nerves present in her eyes. The same look she always wore when Billie wanted her alone.
“Tell me,” Billie said, leaning back against the edge of the desk, “how long have you worked for me now?”
“Almost three years.”
“And in that time, have I once told you that I appreciate what you do?”
Nina paused. “You…show it.”
“Mm.” Billie smiled faintly. “That sounds like a diplomatic answer.”
“I mean it.”
“Good.” Billie pushed off the desk and straightened. “Because I do. You’ve been reliable and consistent.” Her tone shifted, softening just enough to draw a furrow between Nina’s brows. “And that’s a rare thing.”
Colour crept up Nina’s throat. Billie noticed, as she always did. It was a reaction she could summon at will, and it was part of the rhythm between them.
“Come here.”
Nina obeyed without question, stepping closer until she stood just within reach.
Billie’s gaze travelled slowly up from the buttons of Nina’s blouse to her face. “You’re trembling.”
“I-I’m fine.”
Billie reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The move was almost affectionate. Almost. “You’re not,” she said. “But that’s all right.”
For a moment, it was the same pattern as always. Billie could feel Nina’s anticipation and the steady rise of her breath. Normally, this was the point where she’d close the distance and give her what she wanted…only stopping when control tipped towards chaos.
But today, her focus slipped.
Debra’s face flashed in her mind. The softness of her voice, the way she’d come undone while Billie was buried deep inside of her. That ‘thank you’…an unguarded moment of gratitude that had felt more intimate than anything else. Billie’s hand stilled mid-air.
Nina’s lips parted. “Billie?”
The sound of her name pulled her back into the room. She stepped away, the tension between them snapping suddenly. “Not today.”
Nina frowned. “Did I—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Billie shifted back into a cool, measured tone. She reached for the tablet Nina had placed on the desk and glanced at the schedule. “We have work to do.”
“Yes, Miss Brown.”
Billie didn’t look up. “And Nina?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for always being ready.”
Nina smiled. “Of course.”
When the door closed behind her, Billie exhaled a deep breath. The faintest trace of perfume lingered in the air, but it wasn’t Nina’s scent she found herself clinging to this morning…it was Debra’s.
Billie rubbed her temples and turned back to the desk. The clock on the wall read nine, on the dot. She had two hours until Debra Allen walked through the door again.
With trained movements, she adjusted her jacket, ran her palms down her sleeves, and gave her reflection a final assessment.
The mirror revealed what others would see: a woman armoured with competence, wrapped in professionalism, and barricaded behind poise.
Perfect and precisely the image she’d constructed.
Yet underneath the flawless facade, Billie sensed the vibration.
That persistent tremor she’d dedicated years to leaving unlabelled.
You have to stop this!
The bell above the door chimed as she entered, and Debra felt her heart answer before her mind had caught up.
Every detail here was designed to make you slow down and notice yourself, but as Debra stepped further inside, she felt it instantly.
Something had shifted. The atmosphere didn’t feel the same.
Billie appeared from the back hallway, her sleeves rolled once at her wrists, that dark hair perfectly in place.
Everything about her was exactly as Debra had spent the last couple of days remembering it.
And yet, the warmth she’d felt between them before had been replaced by something far cooler.
She couldn’t be certain, but it almost felt distant.
“Ms Allen,” Billie said, her voice smooth but formal. “Good morning.”
“Hi.”
Billie offered a polite, professional smile. “Before we begin, I want to clarify something about today’s appointment.”
Debra’s heart dipped. “Of course.”
Billie clasped her hands in front of herself, her gaze fixed yet somehow seemingly far away. “We won’t be continuing with the full service fitting today. It isn’t our usual policy to provide repeat sessions in such close succession, and I’d prefer to keep things professional.”
For a second, Debra couldn’t quite process it. “Oh,” she said quietly. “That’s…yes, that’s perfectly fine.”
“I’ve already authorised a refund for the difference in price. You’ll receive confirmation later today. But we can still complete your standard fitting this morning if you’d like to go ahead with it. I wanted to check the jacket measurements from the initial fitting.”
Debra nodded, praying her disappointment wasn’t showing. “Yes. Of course. That would be great.”
Billie’s expression softened, but her eyes gave her away. It seemed she wanted to explain, but couldn’t. “This way,” she said, and turned for the corridor. “Same area as before.”
Debra followed her, wishing she’d never known what those hands were capable of. While she hadn’t come here with the expectation of what had transpired during the last two appointments, she would admit to feeling a little uncertain about Billie’s mood. How did one person switch so suddenly?
The fitting room may have been the same room as before, but it didn’t feel the same. The charge in the air had been replaced by order. It was all too neat, and it was far too quiet.
Billie gestured for her to remove her coat, taking it gently when Debra hesitated. Even though everything felt off and wrong between them, the brief contact sent the same tremor of awareness through Debra’s body.
“Shall we begin?”
Debra nodded, though her heart sat heavy in her chest.
Billie looped the measuring tape around her neck and got to work. She moved in the same manner as she usually did, but the energy behind it was different. It wasn’t tenderness now…it was discipline.
“Feet together. Shoulders back,” Billie said with a smile.
Debra obeyed. The words were what she would expect from a tailor, but the sound of them—steady and rehearsed—still twisted something inside of her.
She caught Billie’s reflection in the mirror as she measured the length of her arm, her expression unreadable.
The woman who, just a couple of days ago, had made her feel invincible, now looked like she was standing behind glass.
“You seem different today,” Debra said softly.
Billie focused on the task at hand, not looking up. “It’s a busy morning.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
The measuring tape stilled between Billie’s hands. Her eyes lifted to meet Debra’s in the mirror, and for a fleeting moment, her composure cracked. A tiredness, perhaps regret, slipped through. Debra suspected it was the real Billie.
“Some things are better left…uncomplicated.”
Considering this woman was known for making people feel good about themselves, Debra felt as though she had just done the complete opposite with one sentence. “You mean with people like me?”
Billie smiled weakly. “I mean everyone.” She stepped up behind Debra, the tape gliding across her shoulders. “Clothing can do a great deal,” she said as she cleared her throat. “It gives you shape and it reminds you where you begin and end. Some people forget.”
Debra watched her own reflection, the two of them framed together. Billie stood tall and certain, and Debra found herself standing straighter just by being near her. “And what does it remind you?”
Billie rested the tape at Debra’s collarbone. “That control is a luxury.”
Debra may not have understood the weight behind those words, but she certainly felt them. Before she could speak, Billie stepped away and reached for the rack of fabric hanging behind them.
“This shade,” she said, holding up a length of charcoal wool, “will suit you beautifully. It draws the colour back into your eyes. Having said that, if you wanted to stick with the lighter shade, that’s okay.”
“I trust you.” Debra touched the fabric. It was impossibly soft. “This is…lovely.”
“Structured, but not severe.” Billie smiled. “Exactly the balance you deserve and the fabric I know for sure belongs on you.”
The compliment was gentle, landing somewhere deeper than it should have, but Debra was beginning to understand what this was.
Billie was the kind of person who just knew how to touch you without laying a hand on you.
Perhaps it was her personality, maybe it was how she made her living, but one thing was for sure: Debra knew what the boundary was now.
Billie Brown wasn’t here for anything other than a service… unless it was on her terms.
They worked in near silence after that. Billie called out numbers to the assistant, now in the room and taking notes, and Debra nodded where she needed to.
But her mind wasn’t on the suit. It was on the woman standing behind her, how close she felt even when she kept her distance, and how her eyes said more than any kind of affection ever could.
When the final measurement was done, Billie folded the tape neatly and stepped away. “We’ll have the first fitting ready by the end of next week. My assistant will contact you once it’s prepared.”
“Thank you.” Debra’s voice was soft, but it still didn’t break the tension she felt in the air. God, she thought she’d moved past the never-ending uncertainty in her life. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“Of course.” Billie nodded to her assistant, and she left the room. “I’m glad you came back, Ms Allen. I hope your appointments have reminded you of what’s still yours.”
Those words nearly broke her. Not only because it was Billie saying them, but because she was leaving this appointment feeling a little more fragile than she had during previous visits.
A date not calling her back, she could deal with.
A friend blowing her off, whatever. But Billie Brown and her icy front…
no, that was more of a kick than anyone turning her down.
Still, she would lie and smile. “They did.”
“Good.” Billie’s smile bordered on painful. “That’s what we aim for here.”
And that was that. No further explanation. No warmth. Just a brief conversation between two people who couldn’t be any more different if they tried.
“Bye, Billie.”
Debra gathered her bag and forced herself not to look back as she walked out of the fitting room. When she stepped outside, the sound of the city hit her square in the face. Buses, footsteps, the rush of life continuing around her.
The cold air should have grounded her, but it only made her realise how stupid she’d been to think that today could have followed on from the previous occasions.
It wasn’t even about the sex, a fully formed conversation would have been enough, but Debra was quickly beginning to understand that she wasn’t a woman who entered and stayed in Billie’s world.
She wasn’t a woman who even knew what she was doing with her life most days.
She was just Debra Allen…divorced housewife.