Chapter 19
This space below ground level that Gabriella was now standing in was a mix of brothel, boudoir and bougie art gallery, almost as large as the store space above them.
Yet, unlike the vintage shoppers’ paradise vibe she’d been hit with up there, down here it felt more contemporary, to-the-minute, risky even…
She shivered. Perhaps from that thought, or maybe from the fact she was wearing a tight-fitting neutral coloured bodysuit, her arms held out like she was a scarecrow while Luca and Errol orbited her with measuring tape, twine and sometimes even a glue gun.
‘You’re cold?’ Luca asked, a few pins pursed between his lips.
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Errol, is the heating turned up in here?’ Luca called.
Errol raised his head from a sewing machine where Phoebe was helping, engaged in holding fabric before it was pulled under the needles and stitched.
‘Well, there’s a dial turned right the way around but, you know how it is with the landlord.
’ He looked at Phoebe. ‘The man’s long beard keeps him warm, I swear, and not in a cute Santa Claus kinda way.
’ He mimicked stroking facial hair and pulled a mean face that had Phoebe grinning.
Gabriella focussed back on Luca who had spent quite some time looking her up and down, an inch-by-inch reconnaissance she somehow hadn’t found too unsettling. She might profess to not give any fucks but she wasn’t exactly comfortable with this kind of intimate scrutiny.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said low.
‘Yeah? So you know I’m thinking how does Kylie Jenner put up with standing like a scarecrow in nylon every time she gets dressed for an event?’
‘It’s not nylon,’ Luca told her.
‘You’re right. I’d be warmer.’
‘So, you are cold.’
‘I’m actually just wondering how long I can be away from Cheyenne before she calls the police and reports me missing.’
‘Would she prefer you missing with something to wear for your appearance on the talk show tonight? Or not missing and no show-stopping outfit?’
‘Why do you have pins in your mouth?’
Luca smiled. ‘And that’s what I knew you were thinking. Keep still.’
‘What?’
Before she could say anything else, fabric arrived over her shoulder, wound around her waist and then pins were being inserted in a rapid-fire scenario. On instinct she moved. ‘Ow!’
‘I said keep still,’ Luca said.
‘You stuck me with a pin.’
‘Not my bad.’ And then he stood up straight, stopped pinning and toying with the leather-esque material. Observed. ‘How does it make you feel?’
‘How do I feel?’ Gabriella asked. ‘Like an expensive sofa.’
‘No. I asked, how does it make you feel.’
‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she answered.
‘Errol?’ Luca called.
Gabriella was still wondering what she was meant to be doing. Should she be feeling something other than awkward? Should she put her arms back down now?
‘I’m a fan of the initial styling,’ Errol said, having left his sewing machine seat and moved closer. ‘But, something is off.’
‘Yeah?’
‘The fabric is—’
‘I know what you’re gonna say, Errol. But I can’t use real leather here.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s controversial.’
‘It’s sustainable. And it’s not a Lady Gaga meat dress.’
‘Do I get any input in this discussion?’ Gabriella asked. ‘And can I put my arms down now?’
‘Yes,’ Luca and Errol answered at the exact same time. But then Luca followed it up with something else. ‘My answer was to the second question.’
‘Too late. I’m going to give you my input whether you want it or not,’ Gabriella said, dropping her arms. ‘Listen, I am not a dress-up kind of girl, you know. I like simple and practical and no nonsense. I want to be sitting on that talk-show sofa tonight focussing on what’s going to come out of my mouth and not what body part might fall out if there’s a zipper malfunction.
’ She took a breath. ‘I don’t know why what I wear is so important when what people should be concentrating on is my book.
’ She paused then spoke again. ‘The thing that is going to help them through life.’ Her sister.
A lump arrived in her throat and she swallowed it down, measured. That was the very last thing she needed. She had to be detached from the real emotions she still felt and only produce tempered, managed feelings on cue. That was her survival.
‘Do I get an input into the discussion?’
The question came from Phoebe, some kind of crochet hook in her hand as she stood in front of spindles of brightly-coloured wool.
‘Absolutely,’ Errol said quickly. ‘Whether the guy with the budget for these creations will listen, debatable.’
Phoebe stepped forward, towards Gabriella, feet grazing the concrete ground, eyes on the almost-garment that was wrapped around her body. ‘I’m good with shapes. I see symmetry. My aunt, she’s an inverted triangle.’
‘Great,’ Gabriella answered. ‘Never felt so spectacular now.’
‘And you can’t dress an inverted triangle like an hourglass,’ Phoebe continued.
Gabriella’s gaze went to Luca. She frowned. ‘And you should know this, right? Because you’re the professional stylist.’
‘He does know this,’ Phoebe stated. ‘There’s framed artwork in the dressing area at the old ballet studio.’
Luca put his hands in the air, palms open, like he was surrendering to something. ‘You’ve got me.’ He smiled at Phoebe. ‘Or do you? Because why do you think you were sewing?’
He walked towards the sewing machine bench where some of the material Errol had been working on was lying.
Picking up the dark red satin, he flapped it in the air like he was a magician or perhaps a matador.
And then he moved, gracefully, but also with intent until he was back in front of her again.
‘Watch the fabric. See how it dances. How the colour changes in the light.’
‘What are you talking about? Are you insane?’ Gabriella countered.
‘Stay still,’ he ordered, like she was a dog who needed to obey a command. Oddly alluring, but she didn’t have time to think too deeply about it before… shots were fired.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
And then, Luca stepped away a little, some kind of appliance in his hand and the skein of silk fell into place like a waterfall of drama. Gabriella heard Phoebe gasp, her hands going to her mouth.
‘Holy Mother of God,’ Errol exclaimed.
Gabriella’s eyes went to her reflection in the mirror, the figure-hugging leatherette material, and now the intense red, ruched around her hips, balancing her ‘inverted triangle’ as it then cascaded to her knee.
She looked like she had never looked before.
Powerful. Somewhere close to beautiful even.
But, better than either of those things, nowhere close to transparent.
She looked to Luca as he moved back to her and made minor adjustments to the silk. ‘OK, so you’re not a stylist, you’re a wizard.’
He smiled then, dipping his head close. Then he whispered for her ears only. ‘So, now… I ask again… how does it make you feel?’
His words were cool, confident, yet they were also currently setting her erogenous zones on fire…
‘Errol,’ Luca said. ‘Can we make this look like I didn’t just staple gun it by tonight?’