Page 19 of These Thin Lines

“Ms. Courtenay, really, you fluster too easily. A woman of your illustrious lineage should not jump to the puerile this quickly.” Chiara laughed again. “You mentioned wanting to help. Is that offer still on the table?”

“Y-yes.” Vi tried to hide her stammer behind a cough.

“Well then, strip.” Chiara’s graceful hand made a sweeping gesture across her body, and Vi almost spontaneously combusted. “The dress isn’t entirely ruined, but to change the shape and to see how it moves, I need a live model. And you’re about the right size.”

When Vi just kept staring at her, mouth agape, Chiara let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, how about this? If your offer to help still stands, would you mind modeling the dress for me as I start making the necessary changes?”

The lightbulb went on. Binoche meowed, surely in disgust at her slowness, and Vi actually sagged, whether in relief or disappointment, she couldn’t immediately comprehend.

Given the course her life had taken, when all else failed, Vi thought the least she could do was to hang on for this unbelievable ride she was on. Where it would lead, she had no idea, and if given more time to think, she’d perhaps realize it would take her straight to hell, but Vi didnot, in fact,want to think about it.

So instead, she decided to hold on, because Chiara was watching her with those expressive eyes from under the few flyaways, and Vi’s heart, being the traitor that it was, thudded once and then again.How screwed was she?

“No, err, yes! I mean no, I don’t mind and yes, I’ll help!” Vi registered that she was rambling, so she took a long breath and nodded eagerly. Her hands reached the top button of her shirt almost automatically, and Chiara actually threw her head back, exposing the long line of her slender throat, and let out another peel of laughter.

“You are adorable, Cenerella. There’s a rack over there and there are a couple of slips, since I assume you aren’t wearing a camisole under the haute couture that is your GAP button down?”

Chiara’s adorable giggle accompanied Vi to the corner of the studio where a changing screen was set up.

To avoid feeling self-conscious, Vi latched on to something Chiara had said.

“Cenerella?” She had to raise her voice slightly and dropped her shirt when Chiara’s answer sounded just from beyond the paper thin screen.

“It’s one of the ways to say Cinderella in Italian. But it also goes so well with your eyes. It comes from the wordcenere, meaningash.” Vi trembled, unsure if it was from Chiara’s proximity while she was almost naked or from the fact that Chiara had noticed the color of her eyes. She decided that she really should stop asking questions that would only lead to more trouble and got busy dressing.

The silk of the slip felt strange and decadent on Vi’s skin as she put it on and padded barefoot towards Chiara who was holding the remainder of the dress with such care, Vi’s eyes pricked with tears.

As Chiara slipped the garment over Vi’s head, her predicament finally hit her. The patchouli and verbena reached her a second before Chiara stepped even closer, and Vi felt her body heat. The earlier prediction of being doomed returned tenfold.

What had she gotten herself into?

“Is this all right?” As if sensing her hesitation, hands particularly gentle, Chiara watched her carefully for any signs of discomfort. How was Vi to tell her that there was none of it, only gay panic?

“Yes, just…” Just what? Justwhat?C’mon, brain, a little help.“Cold. A little cold.”

“Oh, hang on, I’ll turn the AC off.” As she stepped back, Vi felt like she could breathe again.What thehellhad she gotten herself into?

“It will warm up quickly now. The upper floors can get really hot in the summer, and I tend to either forget and sweat all day or turn on the AC to cool it down quickly and then forget about that too and be cold all the time.”

“But you get the trade-off with the nice view.”

Chiara smiled at that, then her face suddenly turned serious.

“Ms. Courtenay, it occurred to me that I jumped over quite a few steps here.” Vi held her breath, both dreading and anticipating what was to come.

“Consent, darling. It’s paramount. We have way too little of it in our industry.” Vi’s eyes widened and her throat bobbed as Chiara went on. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable and absolutely okay with this. I am not your boss. You aren’t compelled to do this. I could use your assistance, and I would appreciate it, but this involves me touching you, and I cannot do that without you being okay with this.”

Vi wanted to marvel at the thoughtfulness of the words, of the gesture, but her mind screeched to a halt at the image of Chiara working so close to her,on her, in fact, and so she just stood still waiting for what was to come.

“Before you say anything and before I do anything, please know that I will try my best to work as carefully as possible and to touch you strictly the necessary amount.” Vi almost whimpered as the balloon of her daydream was being burst with tact and concern. “So, do we have an understanding?”

Still lost in her disappointment at Chiara’s practicality, Vi just nodded.

“Use your words, Ms. Courtenay.”

Vi could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Had she ever been this turned on with just words?

Mercy…

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