Chapter 9 Ask Her to Open the Door
On Friday evening, Audrey placed three pairs of earrings on the bedroom dresser and asked which ones Nolan wanted.
“None of them.”
Her hand stopped above the velvet tray.
“All right.”
Nolan looked at her reflection in the mirror.
Audrey wore a black dress with long sleeves and a narrow neckline. Her hair was pinned at the back of her head. She had already finished her makeup, though she had kept it more restrained than she usually did for an event.
She looked ready.
Nolan stood behind her in a black camisole, stockings, and the undergarments he had chosen forty minutes earlier.
The wine-colored dress hung from the closet door.
His makeup remained unfinished.
The sight of Audrey beside the prepared earrings, offering choices as though the evening could be reduced to jewelry, tightened something inside him.
“Not nothing from you,” he said.
Audrey turned.
“Nothing for me.”
Understanding entered her expression.
“You want to make the choices.”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
Nolan looked toward the dresser.
The earrings.
Makeup brushes.
Lip colors.
A pair of shoes Audrey had offered beside his own low black heels.
The cream invitation rested near the edge of the mirror, Nora Pierce written across it in his hand.
“Yes.”
Audrey lowered her hand.
“Then tell me what you need.”
The sentence steadied him.
Not what do you want me to choose?
Not are you sure?
What do you need?
Nolan crossed to the dresser.
He had spent the week preparing without allowing himself to call it preparation.
On Monday, he considered canceling.
On Tuesday, he took the wine-colored dress home from Audrey’s apartment and stood in front of his own mirror wearing it for less than five minutes.
On Wednesday, he packed the black case, unpacked it, then packed it again.
On Thursday, he searched the route to Ash Street six times.
This afternoon, he had sent Audrey a message at three seventeen.
I am still going.
She answered:
I will be home at five.
Nothing about pride.
Nothing about bravery.
Nothing that turned his decision into a promise he would have to keep if fear changed its shape.
Now the dress waited.
The invitation had a date.
The appointment book at Rook & Ribbon contained a name that had existed nowhere public before.
Nora Pierce.
Nolan picked up the neutral makeup palette.
“This one.”
Audrey nodded.
He selected the foundation he had brought from home rather than the slightly warmer shade she offered.
“This.”
“Yes.”
“The muted lipstick.”
“The one from the photograph?”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
Audrey’s gaze softened, but she did not say anything.
Nolan placed the lipstick beside the palette.
“For the eyes, the darker brown near the lashes.”
“You remember.”
“I watched.”
A faint smile moved across Audrey’s mouth.
Nolan continued before it could distract him.
“No blush.”
Audrey looked at his face.
“None?”
“Not tonight.”
“All right.”
He glanced at the velvet tray.
The three pairs of earrings were different enough to make the choice matter.
Small gold drops.
Dark red stones.
A pair of narrow black hoops.
The red stones matched the dress too closely. The gold felt like something Audrey would choose. The black hoops were simpler, sharper.
Nolan picked them up.
“These.”
Audrey’s eyes moved from the earrings to his face.
“Do you want to put them on?”
He touched one earlobe.
The piercings had been another private decision.
Small. Easy to hide. Explained at work as something he had done during college, though Nolan had waited until thirty-two.
“I will.”
Audrey stepped away from the dresser.
Nolan sat.
He began with the foundation.
His hands were steady at first.
The process was familiar in pieces. Apply. Blend. Check the jaw. Correct the area near the nose. Reduce rather than add.
Audrey stood near the window, visible in the mirror but far enough away that her presence did not become instruction.
Nolan finished the base and reached for the eye palette.
He applied the lighter shade.
Then the darker one.
The right eye worked.
The left did not.
He tried to correct it and made the line heavier.
Audrey said nothing.
Nolan lowered the brush.
“You can tell me.”
“You did not ask for an opinion.”
“I’m asking.”
“The left side is too dark.”
“I know.”
“Blend upward, not outward.”
He picked up a clean brush.
“Show me.”
Audrey approached.
She stopped beside the chair.
“On your face?”
“Yes.”
“May I touch you?”
“Yes.”
She placed two fingers lightly beneath his chin to adjust the angle, then guided the brush over the edge of the darker shade.
“Like this.”
Nolan watched the movement in the mirror.
Audrey blended only enough to demonstrate, then handed the brush back.
He completed the correction.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Honest?”
“Yes.”
Nolan applied mascara.
Then the lipstick.
The muted color changed the face more than he expected. Not because it was bold. Because he knew Audrey remembered it.
He placed the cap back on the tube.
“The earrings.”
Audrey remained behind him.
Nolan picked up one black hoop.
His fingers slipped at the fastening.
He tried again.
The small clasp refused to align.
Audrey did not offer.
That helped.
He fastened the first earring.
Then the second.
When he looked up, the reflection seemed more deliberate.
Not finished.
Ready for the dress.
Nolan stood.
Audrey moved toward the closet.
He lifted one hand.
“I’ll get it.”
She stopped.
Nolan crossed the room.
The wine-colored garment waited outside the black bag. Its long sleeves hung motionless. The sash had been pressed flat. The shoulder Audrey once identified for alteration had been adjusted by Rook & Ribbon earlier in the week during a brief private fitting.
Vivian had pinned the seam without praise or curiosity.
The dress belonged to the body more cleanly now.
Nolan lifted the hanger.
Audrey watched him carry it to the bathroom.
He did not close the door.
That was another choice.
He removed the dress from the hanger and stepped into it. The fabric moved upward over the stockings and settled against his body.
One arm.
Then the other.
He found the internal tie without difficulty this time.
He passed it through the opening and pulled it into place.
The outer sash came next.
Nolan wrapped it once around his waist.
The final knot sat unevenly.
He adjusted it.
Still wrong.
Audrey remained in the bedroom.
Nolan could see part of her reflection from the bathroom mirror.
She had not moved.
He tried again.
The sash slipped too low.
“Audrey.”
“Yes?”
“Will you come here?”
She entered the bathroom and stopped near the door.
Nolan turned slightly.
“The knot.”
“Do you want me to redo it?”
“Yes.”
“May I touch your waist?”
“Yes.”
Audrey approached.
She untied the sash and smoothed it around him. Her hands moved with more confidence than the first time, but she did not hurry.
Nolan watched her in the mirror.
“Tighter,” he said.
Audrey drew the fabric inward.
“More?”
“A little.”
She tightened it again.
The dress settled into its shape.
Audrey tied the knot at his left side and adjusted the ends.
Her hands remained near his waist.
Not touching.
Waiting.
Nolan looked at their reflections.
“Thank you.”
Audrey stepped back.
The dress fit.
Not approximately.
Not as a possibility.
It fit.
The adjusted shoulder sat correctly. The wrap line crossed his chest without pulling. The sleeves ended cleanly at his wrists. The skirt moved around his knees when he turned.
Nolan looked down at the shoes.
His own low black heels waited beside the vanity.
Audrey’s offered pair remained in the bedroom.
He put on his own.
The choice mattered more than the difference in height.
When he stood, Audrey looked at him fully.
Her composure shifted.
Not as dramatically as the first time.
Now desire arrived with recognition.
Nolan felt it.
He let himself feel it.
“What?” he asked.
Audrey’s eyes returned to his face.
“You look like you made every decision.”
“I did.”
“Yes.”
There was something in her voice he could not immediately identify.
Pride, perhaps.
He was not ready to reject it.
Audrey moved toward the bedroom.
Nolan followed.
A dark coat lay across the bed. It belonged to Audrey, though she had chosen one loose enough to close over the dress.
Beside it sat a small black handbag.
“Mine?” Nolan asked.
“If you want it.”
“What is inside?”
“Nothing.”
He looked at her.
“You left it empty.”
“Yes.”
Nolan opened the bag.
The interior contained no emergency lipstick, tissues, keys, or object Audrey had selected because she imagined he might need it.
An option.
Actually empty this time.
Nolan placed the muted lipstick inside.
Then his phone.
A folded tissue.
The invitation.
He closed the clasp.
“I’ll take it.”
Audrey nodded.
Nolan looked at the coat.
“Help me?”
“Yes.”
She held it while he slipped his arms into the sleeves.
The coat concealed most of the dress but not all of it. Wine-colored fabric remained visible below the hem when he moved.
Nolan fastened the front.
He looked at the mirror.
The figure reflected there could pass through an apartment hallway without immediate explanation.
Probably.
The word did not reassure him.
Audrey picked up her own coat.
“Car is downstairs.”
“Under whose name?”
“Mine.”
“Does the driver know the destination?”
“Yes.”
“Rook & Ribbon.”
“Yes.”
Nolan’s pulse quickened.
Audrey watched him.
“We can change it.”
“No.”
“We can cancel it.”
“No.”
“We can remain here.”
“Audrey.”
She stopped.
“I know the options.”
“Yes.”
“Do not repeat them every time I look afraid.”
Her expression softened.
“All right.”
“I am afraid.”
“I know.”
“That does not mean no.”
“No.”
Nolan picked up the black handbag.
“Let’s go.”
The apartment hallway was empty.
Nolan checked before stepping out.
He knew that made no practical difference. A door could open. The elevator could arrive with someone inside. A neighbor could turn the corner.