Painted Faces (27 page)

“
Shopping for what?” I ask.

“
Clothes. I need some new things. Oh and possibly a second hand car.”

I stare at him, wide eyed. “You're going to buy a car, just like that?”

“
No, not just like that. I'm living here permanently now. I need transportation.”

“
You do realise that this city isn't very big. It only seems that way when you're unfamiliar with it. You can walk just about anywhere within a half an hour or so. A car won't get much use. But I'll go with you, so long as you buy me a nice lunch.”

He gives me a look that's half smirk, half tender. “I'll buy you lunch if you let me buy you a new dress too. Of my choosing.”

I scoff at him, but I am intrigued. “Am I obligated to wear this dress that you pick out?”

“
No. But I'd like it if you did.”

“
It's a deal then, and we'll see about me wearing the dress.”

I make a quick trip next door to my apartment to brush my teeth and change into a top that hasn't been slept in. When I come back out Nicholas is waiting in the hallway, casually leaning up against the wall. He's got those aviator sunglasses on top of his head again, the ones that sort of make me want to swoon like a loser. He smiles and holds out his hand to me. I smile back and take it.

Mirrors and Changing Rooms

Nicholas shops like a pro. He knows exactly what he likes and what he doesn't like, and he deals with the shop assistant like they're old pals having a chin wag. I've always found clothes shopping to be the ultimate nightmare experience, especially when I was younger.

I've been chubby since the day I was born, so picking out clothing is never fun. Even if I find something that I like, there's always a chance the shop isn't going to have it in my size. And then sometimes when they do have it in my size it just doesn't seem to sit right on me.

We're in a fancy men's clothing store at the moment and I'm feigning interest in those shelves behind the counter where they have every shade of business shirt you could possibly wish for. The shelving unit reminds me of those cardboard charts you get when you're buying paint. Little rectangles of colour.

I glance back to where the shop assistant is helping Nicholas and I'm struck by the contrast between how he dresses when he's on stage and how he dresses when he's being himself. Vivica Blue is all lace, silk and high heel shoes, while Nicholas is sharp shirts and designer slacks. The odd time you'll catch him in a t-shirt and jeans.

Nicholas ends up leaving with several bags of shirts and trousers. As we step out onto the street he says, “So lead the way darling, show me where you like to shop.”

“
You're not still set on buying me a dress, are you?” I ask, with a sigh that a moody fifteen year old would be proud of.

“
Of course I am. Take me to your usual boutiques.”

“
You do realise that clothes shopping is one of my top three most hated life activities, just below doing my taxes and having a smear test.”

“
Don't be silly, if I had a body like yours I'd be dressing it up all the time. You could give Christina Hendricks a run for her money.”

I snort. “My arse I could.”

Nicholas gives me the frown he always seems to give me when I'm being down on myself. He shakes his head and purses his lips.

“
Fine, if you won't lead the way then I'll just have to pick somewhere myself.”

I trudge along behind him and when we get to Grafton Street he all but drags me inside an irritatingly fashion forward women's clothing shop. Manikin legs at the front of the store display a whole range of multi-coloured skinny jeans. I've always found half body manikins to be strangely disconcerting. Like some window dresser chopped off the upper part because they didn't need it.

I become unnecessarily annoyed when Nicholas begins pulling dresses off the racks in exactly my size, despite the fact that I've never told him what size I wear.

Okay, so I'm also kind of flattered that he paid enough attention to notice.

“
If you think I'm trying all of those on you've got another thing coming,” I tell him, while my stomach growls as if to ask,
where exactly is this lunch I was promised?

“
You're moody today,” Nicholas remarks, leading me into the changing rooms. He hands the dresses to the shop assistant as if it's a completely normal thing for a man to be doing. I think it's his confidence that stops the girl from telling him that he's not supposed to be in here.

He opens the curtain to one of the cubicles and gestures for me to go in. I step past him and moan as I glance around. “These things are torturous, look at all of the mirrors. They show every part of your body that you don't want to see.” I absolutely despise seeing myself from behind. I can remember the first time I peered over my shoulder in one of these changing rooms like it was yesterday. The horror, oh the horror.

“
Let me in and I'll look for you,” he grins, one arm stretched up, his palm leaning flat against the wall outside the cubicle.

“
Fuck off,” I scowl, grabbing the dresses and yanking the curtain closed.

Nicholas' laugh filters through. “Perhaps your moodiness can be attributed to the fact that you never got around to coming last night in the bathroom,” he suggests, loud enough for everyone in the dressing room to hear. I could strangle him. The shop assistant up at the front snickers.

“
Jesus, would you shut up?” I hiss as I shimmy out of my clothes. I peek my head out past the curtain. “And how do you know I didn't take care of myself when I went to bed?” I whisper at him with a wink. I didn't. I'm still dying for his touch, but my evil side wants to torture him.

His eyes grow hot and he groans. “That's a real pretty picture you're painting for me. Did you?”

I smirk and pull the curtain back over. “None of your business.”

“
Come on Fred, I'm dying here. Please tell me you thought of me while masturbating. It'll make my day. My year even.” He's still talking
way
too fucking loud.

“
Are you incapable of whispering?” I ask him quietly, picking out a purple dress, since it's one of my favourite colours. I step into it.

At this he slips quickly in behind the curtain and pins me up against the mirrored wall. The purple dress is sitting at my waist as I haven't yet had the chance to pull it up all the way. He grabs both of my wrists and holds them tight by my sides.

“
Tell me,” he pleads, now finally deciding to whisper.

“
Tell you what?” I grit out.

“
About how you touched yourself,” he murmurs, eyes glued to my bra.

I look at his lips for a minute before returning my gaze to his eyes. “It was a joke.”

He smiles and releases my wrists. “Too bad. Now I've got the image of you with your hands between your legs stuck in my head. You're going to have to do something to alleviate me.”

I push him away, although since we're in a tiny box of a cubicle I can't push him very far. “Alleviate yourself,” I say, and pull the dress up the rest of the way.

He makes a tut tut noise and raises an eyebrow. “Doing it myself is never as much fun, Fred. You of all people should know that.”

“
What do you mean?” I ask, as I try to reach the zipper at the back of the dress. Nicholas swipes my hands away and does it for me, before running his fingers down the curve of my spine. It feels...nice.

“
My apartment a fortnight ago, lying on my
chaise longue
, ring a bell?”

I let out a huff. “I knew I shouldn't have allowed you to take things that far. I'll never live it down.”

Nicholas stands behind me, staring at me in the mirror. It reminds me of how he'd done almost the exact same thing last night in his bathroom.

“
It was a beautiful moment, don't regret it. I don't.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Beautiful...” I say on a breath.

He places a hand on my stomach. “You certainly felt beautiful.”

I drag my eyes away from him and look at the dress I'm wearing, changing the subject. “I'm not sure about this one, what do you think?”

“
The colour suits you, and the fabric is pretty. I particularly like this bit,” he traces his fingers over the lining where there's a dip in the cleavage.

“
You would,” I snort, but my heart isn't in it. I want him to continue talking. I want him to keep saying words that make me feel warm inside.

He smiles at me through the mirror. “You know Fred, when you sang that song to me last night, I don't think I've ever seen anything sweeter.”

“
I was trying to be funny and subversively mock Phil's seduction karaoke.” I roll my eyes at him.

“
It was the cutest thing ever. You always manage to make me smile.”

I look away from his gaze. There's too much affection in it and I can't take it. “Well I'm happy to be of service.”

“
Hey,” he whispers seriously. I glance back up at him. “You'll always be my friend, won't you Fred? Don't let me fuck this up. I need you in my life now. I need the golden eyed girl who can make me smile.”

His words are far different than they've ever been. I've never heard him speak so sincerely.

“
Of course not.” I muster a grin. “You'll be hard pushed to get rid of me Viv. I'm like a cold sore.”

He shakes his head. “You've got a wonderful way with words, disgusting but wonderful,” he says, repeating what he'd said to me all those weeks ago in his apartment when he'd first asked me to be his assistant.

In the end, Nicholas buys me two dresses. The purple one and a bright red one. The red one was his choice. It's tight, sleeveless and only goes down to my knees. I make objections about wearing it, putting on a snooty voice and saying I'll look like a Jezebel or a harlot of easy virtue. He tells me he'll get me into it if it's the last thing he does.