A board grin appears on Bella’s face.
“What is it, Bells?” I ask, annoyed.
“Nothing,” she says, and her grin and tone couldn’t be any more obvious. “You do you. I can wait.”
I groan.
“Where would you like me to put them, Miss Phillips?” asks Henry.
“In my bedroom, please,” I say and point to the door on the left in the back of the flat. “Mind the cats,” I call after him. “They’re not big with intruders.”
“Seems to run in the family,” he calls after me, and Bella cracks into laughter. It takes all my willpower not to join her.
“I’ll wait outside,” he says when he returns, with Porridge, my male cat, on his arm, petting him.
“How did you manage to do that?” I ask. “He hates being picked up.”
“Apparently, not by me,” he says and lets him down.“Fifteen minutes, you said?”
“Yes!” I say and wait until he’s outside to throw my bag onto the sofa, get out of my coat and hurry into the bathroom.
“You have some serious explaining to do,” calls Bella through the door.
“I don’t,” I growl while I pee.
“Yes, you do. You soooo do.”
I wash my hands and refresh my face before I open the door. Bella, of course, lingered in front of it.
“So?” she asks.
“I don’t know, Bells,” I tell her as I hurry into my room.
“How are you here, with her errand boy?”
“They picked me up from school,” I say. “Told me to get in the car and that we’re going somewhere I’d love. And here I am, supposed to put on one of these?—“
I open the first box, and Bella gasps. I, who has no clue of fashion, only recognise the feel of it. And the pullover I pull out feels wonderfully soft in my touch.
“That’s Loro Piana,” says Bella in complete and utter disbelief.
“And who is that?” I ask.
“Blimey, Mia, that pullover alone costs thousands of pounds. It’s one of THE old money brands there are.”
I swallow. Hard. I can’t wear something like that. I hold the pullover as far away from me as I can.
“No, no, no,” says Bella harshly. “You will put that on, get out of here and have the day of your life, and if I have to beat you into it.”
I groan.
Bella unpacks the boxes for me.
“They gave you three outfits to choose from,” she says. “Damn, Mia.”
I take a look at the others, and even I can see they were picked for me. Subtle. Nothing that’s too much and would draw too much attention.
“I’d love to see you in this,” says Bella and holds up high-waist, wide-legged trousers that seem to be made from cashmere from the feel of it.
