Chapter 16
‘You were expecting a woman.’ Luca smiled, his hand still offered but currently untaken.
‘No,’ Gabriella replied. ‘But I wasn’t expecting the guy from the restaurant yesterday and I’m just, you know, wondering if I take your hand whether I’ll end up in a mixed martial arts position against that wall.’
‘You’re safe,’ he answered. ‘That never happens at a first appointment.’ God, why had he drenched that entire sentence in libido.
Because, if he had thought Gabriella had looked good yesterday, she looked even better now buttoned up in her fake designer jacket he felt held a story, tendrils of her dark hair escaping from under her woollen hat.
She was a little older than him, he knew that now from his internet research – thirty-four to his twenty-eight – but he was of the opinion that you liked what you liked when it came to attraction.
He continued. ‘But, you know, if I offer you a bottle of water, I don’t want to worry about having to duck either, so we’re kind of even. ’
‘I might go for the full-on knock out, depending on what outfits you’re going to try to truss me up in.’
‘It’s never my intention to unwillingly truss someone up, Ms Felix.’ He waited a beat, watched her pupils dance. ‘That would make me poor at my job and I’m not poor at my job.’ He smiled. ‘But, you know, I will let you be the judge.’
‘Can we go inside now? It’s freezing out here.’
The question came from the young girl stood at the door, shivering a little despite her thick coat.
‘Yes, er, this is Phoebe, my niece. Phoebe, this is my stylist,’ Gabriella introduced.
‘Hello,’ the girl greeted with a small wave.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Phoebe. And I think there will be a hot chocolate with your name on it inside.’
‘Really?’
‘Sure.’
‘And, what is going to have my name on it?’ Gabriella asked him.
He smiled. ‘When I’ve finished dressing you, every magazine in the city.’
‘You’re very confident, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Not at all. Just honest.’
And, as they all headed towards the front door of the studio, he knew that none of the outfits he had prepared were going to be right. This was a problem he needed to solve and fast.
* * *
‘I love the brown but, have you got anything in green?’ the woman who was accompanying Gabriella and Phoebe asked.
Luca could see, having Gabriella here in this room with the mannequins, that his gaze had been off for one reason and one reason only.
These clothes he had originally chosen were matched in terms of colouring and fit, apart from that one dress he should have hacked the neckline out of, but the key thing he hadn’t been adequately able to fully assess from their brief interchange in the restaurant yesterday was Gabriella’s energy.
And not necessarily the vibe she was giving off as her awkwardness over this whole fashion scenario became evident, but the energy she was storing.
He could sense it. There were contrasting elements at play, this woman here and one who had thrown a plastic bottle at someone’s head.
‘Green?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ the woman said, pushing her glasses up her nose. ‘Like maybe a cross between emerald and dark grass.’
Dark grass? He watched Gabriella looking at the mannequins.
She was standing closest to the scarlet trouser suit and he couldn’t tell if that was because she liked it the most or the least. Not that it mattered.
He turned his attention back to the other woman.
‘I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced. You are?’
‘Oh, I’m Cheyenne, I work for All Chapters Publishing,’ she said, with all the gusto of someone who adored their job and thought it was the career of the century.
‘OK, so, I’m Luca. I work for La Facon, and I believe it’s my job to dress Ms Felix for the events she’s attending while she’s here in New York,’ he said, picking a baby pink ballerina-inspired dress off the rail and holding it out.
‘That is correct,’ Cheyenne answered.
‘OK, good. And, Phoebe, I’m guessing you will need outfits too, yes?’
‘Well, I would like to but—’
He watched Cheyenne’s mouth open. ‘Um, that’s not actually on the publisher’s remit so—’
‘Great, Phoebe,’ Luca said. ‘So, you take this one and go try it on. It’s just behind the curtain over there.’ He handed her the pink dress and watched her face light up. Then he looked back to Cheyenne. ‘Listen, I’m going to need the room.’
‘Need the room?’
‘Yes,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s how I do my best work with my clients. Alone. Without distraction. Just us and the styles.’
‘O-K,’ Cheyenne said, looking none too pleased about that suggestion. ‘But the publisher—’
‘Isn’t here,’ Luca stated. Then he looked at his watch. ‘And we are on a timeline before tonight’s show, yes?’ He put a gentle, guiding hand to Cheyenne’s elbow and began leading her across the parquet flooring towards the exit.
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘Cherise,’ he called to his colleague who was just outside the main room, hands full of tulle. ‘Could you look after Ms…’
‘It’s just Cheyenne,’ she answered.
‘Please look after Cheyenne for me. Anything she needs,’ Luca said. Then, as Cheyenne stepped forward and Cherise despatched the fabric, he took a backwards step into the main room again and closed the double doors behind him.
Gabriella had taken the red pantsuit off the mannequin and was holding it into a shaft of winter light that was filtering through the window.
‘You can put that down,’ Luca told her.
‘I’m not allowed to touch it? I thought these were the clothes I needed to try on,’ she said. ‘This ode to a ketchup bottle and… whatever fifty shades of poop this is.’
‘Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?’ Luca suggested.
‘Well, I think your earlier confidence was misplaced if these were your choices.’
‘So, what are we going to do about that?’
She laughed. ‘You tell me, you’re the self-confessed expert of fashion.’
‘And you still don’t believe me.’
‘I’m standing right next to raw evidence.’
‘Untrue,’ he answered. ‘What you’re standing next to are three outfits I really really hoped you hated.’ He took the pantsuit from her and threw it over one shoulder of the mannequin. ‘Because how I’m going to dress you is the opposite of everything these looks represent.’
He could see his words seeping their way into her subconscious until she answered, ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
He laughed. ‘Phoebe, how does the dress look?’
A few seconds went by and then the blue velvet curtain parted and Phoebe stepped back out into the room. And that’s when that feeling arrived in his gut, that pitter-patter of conviction telling him that this he had got absolutely correct.
‘Oh, Phoebe, you look… stunning,’ Gabriella said, her tone loaded with emotion.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ Phoebe said, one hand on the silk and lace skirt and swaying it in the air.
Phoebe smiled, still dancing. ‘Do you know what this building used to be? Because Gabriella thinks it was where smugglers stored illegal alcohol.’
‘Really?’ Luca said, an eyebrow rising as he looked back at his client.
‘If you don’t know the answer it’s as good a guess as any.’
‘Actually, I do know the answer,’ Luca said. ‘It was a dance hall and then a ballet studio. So, you are dressed en pointe, shall we say?’
‘Wow,’ Phoebe said, eyes going to the arched windows. ‘That’s so cool.’ She looked back to him and Gabriella. ‘My mum always wanted to dance in New York. On a stage. She was an amazing dancer.’
‘So,’ Gabriella interrupted. ‘These clothes I’m not going to wear… what happens now because we don’t have that long.’
Luca knew exactly what happened next.
‘Let’s leave Cheyenne behind and get out of here.’
‘What?’ Gabriella said.
‘Unless you want her with us,’ Luca said.
‘No.’ This had come from Phoebe and she continued. ‘I mean… it’s not my decision… but I find her a little controlling and sometimes… actually… mean. And I’ve only known her a day. Or maybe two with the… time zones.’
Silence reigned and Luca let it breathe until Gabriella broke it.
‘You have an escape route?’ she asked him.
‘Always,’ he answered confidently.
‘Then let’s go.’