I squat down. ‘Do you like that, Beadle? Isn’t it soft?’
‘It’s so soft,’ Bea says in a tone of wonder. ‘It’s like a teddy bear.’
‘Let’s see if Saoirse looks like a teddy bear in it.’ Astrid holds it out behind me and I thread my arms through the sleeves and yank it on. It’s enormous. Dreamy.
‘I look like Cruella—in the most fabulous way.’
‘No puppies were harmed in the making of this,’ Astrid drawls. ‘You’ll need it if you’re standing outside for a few hours. Now, do you have some boots you can wear with it?’
‘I do.’ I have my black shearling-lined Dubarry boots that Mam and Da gave me last Christmas. They’ll be perfect.
I eye Astrid up in the mirror. ‘You remind me of someone so much. An old movie star. It’s driving me crazy.’ I bend my head and squeeze my eyes shut to visualise. ‘I’ve got it! Baroness Schraeder fromThe Sound of Music. I think it’s the outfit—you look just like her.’
‘That’s spot-on,’ Astrid says, ‘because she’s on every single mood board I create. She’s fabulous. Now, Bea.’ She bends down. ‘I brought a big bag of clothes that Tabby’s outgrown. There’s a coat like this in there, but in pale pink. Maybe you can wear it tomorrow. Do you want to run and try it on?’
‘OMG.’ Bea takes off at a sprint, as Astrid helps me off with the coat and unzips the back of the dress.
‘Do you want to show Miles?’ she asks.
‘Oh. No, God, no. He can see it tomorrow.’ I have nointention of doing some forced fashion parade for Miles. That would just be wrong.
‘Quite. Make an entrance when you’ve done your hair and makeup.’ Astrid goes to the door and shouts. ‘Miles? Can you call someone up to help me down with this stuff?’
She shuts the door and takes the dress off me. Drapes it back on its hanger and hangs it on the wardrobe door, as I pull my t-shirt back on.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Astrid pats me on the shoulder. ‘You really will be a knockout.’
MILES
I help Astrid downstairs myself.
‘Thanks for doing that.’ I manoeuvre the garment bags onto one arm and press the lift button for the lobby.
‘My pleasure.’ She checks her reflection in the lift’s mirror. ‘You were right. She’s stunning. And very sweet. Wait till you see her in it tomorrow.’
I look down at the garment bags. Say nothing.
‘I’ll tell you now,’ Astrid says conversationally, ‘if that dress ends up on your bedroom floor tomorrow night, make sure you hang it up nicely for me. Okay?’
Blood rushes to my head as I jerk it up to look at her. It’s the visual she’s painted: it’s so real.
A scarlet silk dress billowing to the floor.
And Saoirse.
In my room, in her underwear.
On my bed, naked.
I inhale harshly, my nostrils flaring as I attempt to get my flash of arousal under control.
‘Fuck’s sake, Astrid. Not going to happen. She’s myemployee. I’m not planning on fucking Bea’s nanny.’
‘She’s lovely. And you two can hardly look each other in the eye, for Christ’s sake. I wasn’t born yesterday. You could cut the tension in there with a knife. I saw the look on her face when she came in and saw me with you. Utterdesolation.’ She nods her head for emphasis.
‘Just because you and Gray are obscenely loved-up,’ I mutter, ‘doesn’t mean you have to match-make everyone else around you.’
‘No.’ Her voice is mild. ‘But there’s no one I’d rather see happy than you, Miles.’
