Читать книгу What's A Housekeeper To Do? / Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds - Нина Харрингтон - Страница 12

‘I MEANT to unpack all this as soon as we got home.’ It was the next afternoon. Lally reached into one of the string bags sitting on the kitchen counter in the apartment and pulled out several canned goods.

Her voice was raised a little to be heard over the outside noise of the refurbishing crew. Cam had to admit that right now they sounded more like a destruction mob. ‘Are you okay with that noise? It’s not driving you crazy?’

‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘I’m fine with it. If anything would get to me, I think it would be too much quiet.’

Cam understood that only too well. Maybe noise was what he needed at night.

You’ve tried that, remember? You’ve tried every trick there is. Noise or no noise; light or dark; quiet or loud; whatever, you don’t sleep beyond what your body has to have to survive. That’s all there is to it.

He returned his gaze to his housekeeper. ‘You got busy when we got back here.’ Lally had called it ‘home’ and hadn’t seemed to notice the word. But in truth where did Lally Douglas call ‘home’? She’d told him she had a room at her parents’ home; was that it? At twenty-four, didn’t she want her freedom at some point?

And why did it even matter to Cam? ‘Home,’ he’d never had. A faceless, nameless apartment in the centre of Sydney that he visited now and then hardly counted.

Yet wouldn’t it be nice to have a home? A real one? With a permanent housekeeper like Lally to look after him?

Dumb thought, Travers. This was a temporary measure, nothing more. Cam drew a breath. ‘There’s nothing in the foodstuffs that will have spoiled.’

‘No. I put the perishables away straight off, at least.’ Lally removed the remaining articles from the bags and started to pack them into the larder.

Cam resisted the urge to help. He’d crossed the line enough by insisting they shop together at the market first thing this morning. When they’d got back, he’d eaten breakfast with her—then had taken himself off to his office and proceeded to give his hero’s love-interest so many of Lally Douglas’s traits and characteristics that he’d had to delete half the work he’d written.

So he’d deleted, and he’d wrestled with his story some more, and he’d come up with what he knew was a great scene-idea—but then he couldn’t get that to work either. Without realising he did it, Cam heaved a sigh.

‘Is the writing not going well?’ Lally’s words were empathetic.

He shook his head. ‘I’ve got a scene planned in my mind, but when I try to write it I can’t visualise it properly. I can’t “see” the heroine in my mind’s eye. I’m not sure how to use their surroundings. It’s a scene that I know will work, but I can’t seem to get it to work. I think as long as the heroine remains shadowy in my mind, this problem is going to continue.’

‘What would bring her to life for you?’ Lally’s eyebrows drew together as she considered the matter. ‘Could you “interview” her? Ask her questions to get to know her?’

‘Stream-of-consciousness interviewing? I did try that about a week ago, but I didn’t get anywhere with it.’ Cam forced himself not to scowl his irritation over this. ‘I feel as though I need to somehow throw her into the middle of this scene, really get in deep there with her. Once I see how she reacts, the pieces will all come together. Maybe.’

‘Hmm.’ Lally was silent for a long moment. She tipped her head to the side and tapped her finger on her chin before her eyes lit up. ‘When Mum gets stuck on a painting, she tells my aunt the concept. Auntie takes a sheet of paper and whips out her interpretation of how she’d do the painting. Mum invariably says that’s not how the idea should be executed! Rejecting one idea helps Mum to figure out how she wants to execute it.’

‘That’s an interesting concept.’ It was Cam’s turn to frown. ‘I’d try that, if there was a chance it would rattle loose my interpretation. But how?’

‘You need a “volunteer from the audience”.’ The smile deepened on Lally’s lovely mouth. ‘Someone, or more than one person, to act out the scene for you. You don’t have to like how they do it, but it might help you figure out what you do want for the scene.’

Cam gave a surprised laugh. ‘That could just work. I’d have to find an acting society or a theatre group willing to act it.’

‘Or you and I could do it.’ The words came out in a little rush and she immediately bit her lip. ‘Not if you didn’t want us to, but if you didn’t want the hassle of trying to find real actors—if you only needed to play-act it to help you figure it out—we could do that, couldn’t we?’

‘We could.’ Her enthusiasm started to spread through him too. ‘My idea is a wheels-within-wheels kind of situation, where he’s pretending interest in her but he suspects her of being a double agent or spy or assassin. He thinks if he disarms her with food, wine and attention he’ll figure out what she’s up to.’ He went on. ‘She’s got an equal number of suspicions about him. She pretends to be “buyable” for the night, to gain access to his hotel room to search it later, and then she’s going to disappear—but he lures her to the roof top of the building after dinner when he suspects her motives are as duplicitous as his are.’

Cam drew a breath. ‘Before dinner he spends money on her, buying her a dress and other gifts.’

‘It really is wheels within wheels.’ Lally’s eyes were like stars. ‘Oh, but that sounds so exciting. We could role-play the whole evening from beginning to end. It wouldn’t have to be an exact match, but it could be a lot of fun!’

‘Let’s do it.’ Cam’s smile spread until it was as wide as hers. ‘It’ll have to be late in the day. If we’re going to do this I want the right atmosphere, time of night, all of it.’

Happiness filled her face. ‘Tonight?’

Cam couldn’t seem to look away from that happiness. ‘Yes, we’ll do it tonight. We’ll leave here at seven p.m. I’d better get on the computer and figure out where we can go that will provide the kind of backdrop I want.’ He started to turn away; he had to turn away. ‘Can you manage that?’

‘Of course.’ She did a little bounce on the balls of her feet. ‘I’ll go on with other work until you’re ready for us to leave.’

He looked at her and tried not to think about the curve of the side of her face, her cheek, her chin and her lush lips that looked soft and kissable. ‘We’ll be out until around midnight, so feel free to take some time off this afternoon before we leave. I don’t want to over-tire you.’

‘I’ll take a nap for an hour if I can get to sleep,’ Lally conceded, but with a glow of anticipation still all over her face.

Somehow Cam doubted she would relax into sleep in this mood, but he wasn’t a good one to gauge her chances. Just because he wouldn’t have been able to sleep in the afternoon didn’t mean she might not be able to nod off any time she decided she wanted to.

‘I’ll see you at seven.’ He glanced at her clothes. ‘You can come dressed as you are now, or in something similar; it doesn’t really matter. Choosing clothes in the same way the female character would do that tonight will be part of our role-play. I’ll need to locate a big hotel that has boutique stores. We’ll shop there, enact the time in the dining room, and then go up on the rooftop for that part.’

Her eyes widened. ‘It—it won’t cost you a lot, will it? I didn’t mean to suggest…’

‘Something that might get my writing back on track after weeks of it driving me crazy because I haven’t been able to get there?’ He felt lighter than he had in all those weeks. ‘If it costs me a little to organise this evening and I get a result, I will be more than happy, so don’t give that another thought. Whatever I spend I’ll be able to tax-deduct, anyway.’

‘Well, I guess.’ Lally frowned. ‘Make sure it’s a hotel that does clothing hire, or has cheap stores. We can go through the motions, buy or hire what we have to, I guess, but keep the expense right down.’

Cam smiled at the earnest face looking at him. ‘You need to think of it as a cross between Cinderella and—I don’t know—winning a shopping spree or something.’

‘Oh, well, okay. I guess.’

‘Good.’ Cam turned away. ‘I’ll see you when it’s time to go.’

‘This is it. The boutique shops inside should provide what we need.’ Cam spoke to Lally as he handed his car keys to a parking valet. He paused on the footpath that led into the hotel itself.

Lally drew a big breath. ‘So we’re all set for our night’s acting. Oh, I hope it’ll be fun, and you’ll go back later and your story will just pour out of your fingertips because your imagination will have worked out what you want to do. The hotel looks awfully fancy.’

Her anticipation was so sweet that Cam just had to smile. Lally might enjoy wearing some different clothes, too, he thought with a hint of fondness that crept up on him. She dressed nicely already, but sometimes he felt she dressed to try not to be noticed. ‘I haven’t fully explained the final part of the evening when we’ll go up on the rooftop: you’ll be entirely safe, but I need an unanticipated reaction out of you. If you don’t mind.’

‘Your mysteriousness is making my imagination run wild.’ Lally admitted this with a smile as she met Cam’s gaze. ‘I don’t mind. You can surprise me. That can be part of the fun too.’

Cam cleared his throat. ‘Thanks for being a good sport about it. You truly won’t mind being dressed up and having your hair and make-up done?’

‘Hair and make-up too?’ Her eyes widened. ‘I imagine I’ll feel as though I’m being thoroughly spoiled.’

Lally gave her answer to Cameron and tried to gather her concentration. Cinderella; he’d said to think of it as that.

Her boss in a dinner suit; that was a big part of the reason for her distraction. In truth, Lally did feel like Cinderella—well, Cinderella with a slightly weary but anticipation-filled prince at her side.

A prince who looked divine clothed this way, and wore his exhaustion more attractively than should be legal.

When she’d first emerged from her room and seen Cameron waiting for her, Lally’s pulse had raced.

‘Thank you for agreeing to this,’ he’d said, and clasped her hand briefly before leading the way outside to his car. Beautiful car, gorgeous driver. Cameron had relaxed her with easy conversation during the trip, and even now as they walked through the hotel he somehow made her feel special whether he was looking all about him to research his book or not.

A night out of time, that was what this would be for Lally. She could do it, of course she could, and have a whole lot of fun in the process!

Cam led her straight to the grouping of boutique clothing-stores with fashionably sparse window-displays. Lally glanced around the opulent hotel’s interior; that opulence tied in with what she saw here. A qualm struck; she leaned towards Cam and whispered urgently, ‘That looks like a designer original dress in the window.’

‘It is, but from my research there are plenty of non-designer dresses in the shop as well.’ Cam stepped inside without giving Lally a chance to argue it one way or another. ‘And here’s our shop assistant ready to help us.’

‘But the money,’ Lally whispered, and tugged on his arm. ‘It all looks expensive. You can’t…’

He turned and gave a reassuring smile. ‘These purchases are a legitimate business expense. I’ll claim them against tax, and I get to give a great housekeeper the gift of a few things after we’ve used them for my research—if you’d like them. You’ll let me do that rather than throwing them out, won’t you?’

‘Throw?’ Lally bit back a gasp. He wanted her to let him buy the things and then give them to her, but she’d thought if that happened it would be in a very inexpensive way.

‘It’s not hurting anything, Lally.’ He said it in such a businesslike way. ‘I need this kind of setting. You understand?’

Lally calmed down a little. This was just work, when all was said and done. Unusual, maybe, but still work.

If her awareness of him suggested differently, well, she would get that sorted out. She would. She’d just watch very carefully to make sure they didn’t end up buying a dress that cost a ridiculous amount of money.

‘Good evening. How may I help you?’ The saleswoman was already sizing Lally up.

‘We need a dress. Something bright, flattering and elegant; a handbag; earrings, and I think…’ Cam’s gaze shifted to Lally’s neck and lingered there. ‘Yes, a necklace. I’ll know what I want for that once we choose the dress. Hmm…’ He turned to the saleswoman.

‘I don’t know much about this, but something that will suit her colouring, bring out the brown of her eyes and make the most of her hair. That’s what I want.’

You should be in colours, Latitia. You were born for them on all sides of your family tree!

Mum had said that to her—recently, actually, now Lally thought of it. She had given Lally an almost disappointed look when Lally had shrugged her shoulders and said she preferred plain colours, and shades that blended rather than stood out. Mum had looked away and muttered something about ‘long-term hibernation behaviour. ’

A week later Lally had finished working at the fishing-tackle-and-bait store, and she’d no longer been needed in the next job she’d had lined up in the family. The whole family had been just fine getting along without her, and she’d ended up with Cam.

Now they were shopping, and he had his arm loosely against her shoulders; when had that happened?

Lally looked away in case she was gaping over the list he’d just given the saleswoman. Lally’s glance fell on a mirror on the shop-wall that showed their reflections. Cam had a spark of enjoyment in his eyes.

Worse was the corresponding sparkle in her eyes.

More dangerous still was how much she liked the look of those two reflections; side by side.

Lally could count on one hand the number of times she’d been out on a date since the disaster of Sam six years ago. The last time must have been over a year ago. Those dates had been pleasant enough, she supposed, but in a very controlled way for her, and she’d never looked for a repeat.

Her reaction just now hadn’t felt controlled. Plus, this was not a date!

‘Nothing designer,’ Lally said with about as much spine in her tone as an overcooked noodle. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Maybe you have a sale rack?’

‘Perish that thought.’ The sales lady said it with good humour, disappeared for a moment and returned with a garment over her arm. ‘Perhaps you’d like to try this? It’s middle range, though it’s an odd thing to be told not to include designer choices!’ She held up a flow of deep-red silk.

‘Oh, it’s…gorgeous.’ The words poured out of Lally’s mouth before she could stop them; to her credit she tried to back-pedal as soon as it happened. ‘That is, I’m not sure. It’s awfully noticeable—the colour and style…’ Lally broke off and turned to Cam. ‘I guess that doesn’t matter. It’s only to help you to figure out what you want.’

‘That’s right. It seems…as good a choice as any.’ He nodded. ‘I’m having fun, Lally, and that’s got to be good for my muse. So, go and try the dress on, please.’

‘It will make you look absolutely radiant, dear.’ Somehow the woman had her hustled through the store and into a changing room with the dress pushed into her hands before Lally quite realised what had happened. Her last glimpse before the dressing room door closed was of Cam turning to examine a shelf of evening bags with a purposeful and cheerful glint in his eyes.

Lally locked the dressing-room door, turned to the mirror, and saw a bright-eyed girl with red silk clutched in her hands.

‘It won’t fit,’ she muttered, not sure if she was being hopeful, practical, hedging her bets or trying to talk herself out of a love affair that had already taken wings the moment the saleswoman held up the dress.

‘You’re such a predictable female, Lally.’ She muttered the words beneath her breath. ‘The first time someone throws a pretty dress at you, and all your past decisions about fashion choices and colours go out the window.’

Oh, but this was different. This wasn’t for her, not really. This was for research so Cam could look at Lally and choose a whole different look for his book character.

It was reverse psychology, and it would work; Lally just knew it would. Lally was just the human mannequin for the evening, as cardboard and one-dimensional as could be.

She was filled with a lot of excitement for someone who was one dimensional, though.

‘Are you done?’ Cam’s voice sounded from outside the cubicle. ‘May I see the dress on you?’

Lally was done. She’d simply been standing there staring mutely at the transformation that had appeared in the mirror. She didn’t feel much like a mannequin; she felt like a girl in a gorgeous dress.

‘I’m not sure if this…’ Lally put her hand on the door latch, unlocked it and pulled it open.

‘You…’ The single word trailed away as Cam’s gaze slowly travelled from her head to her toes and back again.

‘It seems to be the right size.’ Lally resisted the urge to fidget with the hem or twitch the fabric over her hips. The dress fitted like a glove and flowed over her curves in all the right ways.

‘It’s perf—That is, I’m sure it’ll be fine for our purpose, to help me figure out what the heroine in the story would wear.’ Cam gave one slow blink and his voice deepened as he held out his hand. ‘Put these on with it, please.’

A drop-necklace and set of dangling earrings were settled into the palm of her hand, and her fingers were curled closed over them. ‘I slipped out to the jewellery store beside this one while you changed into the dress.’

‘Okay, well, I’ll put them on.’ Their fingers brushed as Lally made sure she had a proper grip on the items.

Her heart was pounding. It was so stupid, but she fell silent as she withdrew her hand. Had Cam’s hand moved away quite slowly, as though he might have been almost reluctant to lose the contact?

‘There’s a bag too.’ His voice was deep and he cleared his throat before he went on. ‘I’ll give that to you when you come out.’

Lally could have put the necklace and earrings on in front of him, but she was rather glad for a moment to herself. She had to pull herself together.

The earrings were simple gold with a pearl drop that bumped against her neck when she moved her head. The matching pearl-drop necklace nestled between her breasts. It would have been difficult to find a set to create a better foil for the dress.

No, Lally, it suits you and the dress perfectly.

Lally tucked her hair behind her ears to showcase the earrings. They really needed an upswept hairstyle; so did the dress. Lally took another proper look in the mirror.

The dress was deep red with a crossover V-neckline that cupped her breasts. It was deceptively simple, clinging in beautifully cut lines until it fell in loose folds to just below her knees. The hem was handkerchief-cut and swirled as she moved.

Cameron had dressed her the way she would have dressed herself six years ago. No; he’d dressed her the way that eighteen-year-old would have dressed six years on if she hadn’t hidden herself in bland colours.

She hadn’t hidden herself. She’d outgrown colours.

Have you, Lally? Because you look great in this, vibrant and alive and ready to take on the world. Ready to participate in the world, not avoid it from within the heart of your family.

Oh, this was silly! Lally was helping Cam; they were doing research. She wanted to get on with that and leave these other thoughts behind her. He’d look at all this, and it might look good on her, but it would help him see how he wanted to dress his heroine. He might put his character in faux fur, or shiny pink plastic, or dress her in blue velvet.

Lally gathered her other clothes into her hands, flung the door open and stepped out. She joined Cam at the service counter where he’d just finished paying for his transaction. ‘I’m ready to get on with the rest of our research.’

And that was what this was truly all about.