Chapter 8 #2
‘Claire,’ Yvonne said after a pause. ‘You met her. She was at Ivan’s party the other night. I don’t know if you – oh! You do?’
Jeez, she was being sold to him like a prize heifer!
‘We’re in luck,’ Yvonne said, snapping her phone closed. ‘I remembered that Luca’s helping to hang an exhibition at the gallery just across the road. He’s going to call over.’
‘Well, there’s nothing for him to see here,’ Claire said, making another lunge for the changing room.
Yvonne shot up off the sofa and stood in front of Claire with her arms folded. ‘Come on, I know he seems a bit of a sleaze, but Luca has a great eye. He’s an artist. Plus, he’s a man.’
‘But I don’t need another opinion. I already know—’
‘He actually remembered you from the party!’ Yvonne told her. ‘That’s not like Luca. You must have made a big impression on him.’
Claire cringed inwardly. She knew exactly the sort of impression she’d made on Luca. At least he’d had the decency not to fill Yvonne in on what had happened between them. But she’d thought she’d seen the last of him. ‘Please call him back and tell him not to bother,’ she begged.
‘Too late. Here he comes now,’ Yvonne said. A bell rang as the door swung open, and Yvonne beckoned him over.
He strode across the shop and threw himself onto one of the sofas in front of the changing area. ‘Hi, Claire. I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon.’
‘So, what do you think?’ Yvonne waved at Claire with a flourish.
Luca folded his arms and looked her up and down slowly. Claire kept her eyes on the floor, squirming under his scrutiny. Her skin prickled as his eyes ran over the length of her body, as though they were physically touching her.
‘Obviously she’d be wearing heels,’ Yvonne told him. ‘You have to use your imagination.’
‘It’s a very sexy dress,’ he said finally.
‘Yes!’ Yvonne punched the air with a triumphant smile. ‘That’s what I said.’
‘But it doesn’t suit you,’ Luca said, ignoring Yvonne and talking to Claire. Her eyes shot to his before she could stop them.
Yvonne gasped. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say.’ She frowned at him.
Claire felt her cheeks burning. Damn him – had he come here to humiliate her?
‘Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,’ he said, his eyes widening in horror.
‘It’s fine,’ Claire said. ‘I told you,’ she said to Yvonne, wishing she could hide in the changing room and not come out until both of them had gone.
‘You said it’s a sexy dress, and then you said it doesn’t suit her. What exactly did you mean?’ Yvonne demanded.
Oh God, please just drop it, Claire begged silently.
‘It is a sexy dress. And she’s a sexy girl. You were right about the legs.’
‘Well, then…’
‘But you don’t feel sexy, do you?’ Luca said, eyeballing Claire.
She certainly didn’t feel sexy now. She felt silly and pathetic, as if she was trying to be something she wasn’t – like a child tricked out in her mother’s cocktail dress.
‘Well, she will when she’s got her makeup and heels on,’ Yvonne said. ‘And no underwear, of course. No one could feel sexy in bare feet and M&S knickers.’
Sweet Jesus, could this get any worse? Now Yvonne was sharing with Luca what kind of knickers she had on.
‘I will not be wearing no underwear.’ She fidgeted, tucking her hair behind her ears.
‘Back me up on this, Luca,’ Yvonne said.
‘Jesus, do you want to give the poor girl a coronary?’ He shot Claire a sympathetic look. ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘No way.’
Maybe Luca wasn’t so bad after all, Claire thought.
‘The key to being sexy is feeling sexy,’ he said. ‘How do you feel in that dress?’ he asked her.
‘Exposed,’ she said. ‘Self-conscious. Ridiculous.’
‘Right. And that’s how you look—’
‘Luca!’ Yvonne gasped in outrage, while Claire wished she could evaporate.
‘Shit! I didn’t mean you look ridiculous. I meant you look embarrassed, self-conscious, like you’re trying to make yourself invisible. Your shoulders are up around your ears and you haven’t stopped fidgeting for one second.’
‘Well, that’s because you’re both staring at me.’
‘Exactly. You can’t go out in a dress like that if you don’t want people looking at you. That’s a dress for a woman who wants to be noticed.’
‘Well, what would you suggest?’ Yvonne asked him, speaking as if Claire wasn’t there.
‘This is what she was thinking of wearing,’ she said, picking up the dress Claire had first chosen and waving it at him.
Claire thought it was very nice – a classic LBD, simple, understated…
a bit boring maybe, but she had felt good in it: comfortable, safe.
‘Okay.’ Luca eyed the dress with distaste. ‘So what we need is a compromise – something in between hooker and nun.’
‘That is not a hooker dress,’ Yvonne fumed, pointing at Claire.
‘And that’s not a nun dress,’ Claire mumbled sulkily.
‘What’s the occasion anyway?’ Luca asked.
‘Dinner. She’s got a date!’ Yvonne told him, sounding more like a pushy mother by the second. Claire prayed she wouldn’t go into details.
‘Good for you,’ Luca said softly. ‘And you’re letting Yvonne dress you? Seriously?’
‘I thought you were going to help, Luca. If you’re just going to criticise—’
‘Okay.’ He jumped off the sofa, holding up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Leave it to me. Take that thing off,’ he told Claire, snatching the black dress from Yvonne and marching away.
Claire went back to the changing room, hung the red dress on its hanger and waited. She was beginning to think Luca was never coming back when his arm appeared through the curtain.
‘Here, try this,’ he said, thrusting a hanger at her.
Claire examined the dress before unzipping it to try it on.
It was the palest shade of green, the bodice a soft velour, while the neckline and long sleeves were sheer chiffon.
She pulled it on, loving the feel of it.
She had wanted a dress with sleeves like this ever since she had first seen Grace Kelly in that blue dress in High Society.
She wondered why she hadn’t noticed it – but then she remembered she’d been zeroing in on black.
She felt like hugging Luca when she looked in the mirror.
It was perfect – sexy but classy. The bodice was fitted, clinging to her curves, but the skirt was full, layers of chiffon that swished when she moved, and fell to just above the knee. And the colour really suited her.
‘Well?’ Yvonne asked, from the other side of the curtain.
‘Yeah, it’s, um…’ Claire pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shop, where Yvonne and Luca were waiting expectantly. She stood in front of them for inspection, not minding their scrutiny now. She even did a little twirl.
‘Wow!’ Yvonne said, grinning with delight.
‘Perfect.’ Luca smiled. ‘My work here is done.’
‘Thanks, Luca,’ Claire said. ‘I really love it.’
‘You’ve earned yourself a big lunch, mister,’ Yvonne said.
‘I can’t make lunch,’ he said, with a grimace. ‘I’m meeting someone.’
‘Well, I’ll owe you.’
‘I’ll hold you to it. Enjoy your date, Claire,’ he called, as he left.