Page 89 of Audacity

‘Oh, dear Lord,’ I murmur as I come face to face with rows and rows of what can only be called frothy paradise. ‘This is heaven.’ Gabe may have his faith, but I could worship at the altar of Gossamer for hours. If it’s a cult Natalie’s running here, I’ll sign my freedom over without a second thought.

‘It really is,’ Natalie agrees. ‘I’m still not used to it. We’ve only been in a couple of months, and you should have seen the place we were in before Adam swept in and played fairy godfather. It was a tiny little shithole, there’s no other way to describe it.’

Fairy godfather.

Sounds like Gabe.

Although maybe, given the man he is,patron saintfeels more apt.

‘Well, you’ve certainly put down roots. It feels very established.’

‘It still feels like a dream. He brought me to these offices for the first time one Saturday. When I saw Omar Vega’s studio downstairs, I could have sat down on that floor and wept. It was so far beyond anything I could have dreamed of.’ She smiles, and it’s fabulous and victorious and powerful. ‘But ours is nicer.’

‘Ha! I love that.’ I really do. I fucking love it when women exude their natural goddess energy, and Natalie has it going on in spades. ‘It’s so sumptuous.’

I cast my eyes over the racks and racks of dresses: silk and tulle and lace and feathers arranged in a celestial pastel rainbow. I’m positively itching to get my hands on them.

‘So this is for a gala.’ She clasps her hands in front of her. ‘Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?’

‘Tasteful but fabulous. I’d like a showstopper, but it can’t sayI let men fuck me for money. It needs to say something likeI’m fully capable of managing one of the biggest foundations in the country but don’t for a second think I’ll look frumpy doing it.’

She snorts. ‘Gotcha. And I suspect no one could ever accuse you of looking frumpy. You know, if you ever need to borrow something for a big event once you’re in the new seat, we’d be happy to oblige. We do it a lot for high profile women.’

High profile women.

I’ve spent the past four years since Camille recruited me being the soul of discretion, putting on a show only for the men lucky enough to afford me and actively blending in on a wider basis.

That’s all about to change.

‘Thank you,’ I tell her now. ‘I could get used to wearing only demi-couture.’

‘It’s a dangerous precedent to set. I should know. Why do you think I force my team to make every sample in my size?’ She jerks her head over to a mannequin standing by the window wearing a frothy black concoction. ‘See her? She’s literally called Natalie. We got Stockman, the mannequin company, to make her in my exact dimensions.’

I shake my head with a rueful grin. Lucky cow. ‘That’s genius.’

‘Isn’t it? Right, we know you need a showstopper. How about something channelling Old Hollywood? With some sleek curls, you could definitely channel a siren of the silver screen.’

‘I love that idea,’ I admit.

‘Do you have any colours in mind?’

There’s something about the careful politeness with which she says it that tells me she already has a strong view.

‘Why don’t you tell me?’

She grins. ‘I was hoping you’d say that. We have a dress in this green that’s somewhere between mint and pistachio, and I think you’d lookamazingin it.’

‘I love green. Show me.’ It’s true. Green tends to complement my hair and eyes, no matter what shade I wear, but I don’t often gravitate towards the shade she’s described. It’s not the most practical colour for everyday wear.

She sashays along the rainbow of dresses and stops where blue becomes aqua and then green. The way she presses her lipstogether in excitement as she carefully lifts a hanger off the rail tells me she has seriously strong feelings about this dress.

She holds it aloft.

Holy fucking shit.

My face must be a picture, because she bursts out laughing. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

‘It’s incredible.’

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