About a Girl (38 page)

‘You’re very welcome,’ he said, tapping me on the nose with a powder puff. And his work was complete. ‘I used to do Jane’s make-up. When she wasn’t well enough to do it herself.’

‘Sounds like she was amazing.’ I returned his sad smile with one of my own and gave his knee a squeeze. ‘I wish I could have met her.’

‘She was incredible,’ he confirmed. ‘But she was also a massive ballbuster and had very little tolerance for anyone not doing as they were told. Unless you were Artie, of course. He could do no wrong.’

‘Is that why he and Al don’t get on?’ I had so many questions about the Bennetts; it was like stepping onto the set of a Hawaiian
Dynasty
. ‘Because she let him get away with murder?’

‘If he murdered someone, she would have buried the body and torn the tongues out of any witnesses,’ he replied. ‘There was nothing that boy could do that was less than perfect in her eyes. Sometimes that doesn’t sit well with both parents.’

‘Sad,’ I pouted, swinging my legs on the high stool. ‘I wish they could make up. Al’s so cool.’

‘He had his moments as well,’ Kekipi said with a satisfied sigh, hands on his hips. ‘But maybe they’ll make up now. Now Mr Bennett seems to have snapped out of his mood.’

I nodded slowly, thinking about my mum. I hoped she was OK. I really had to call her when I got home. These things were never easy.

‘Shall we get you dressed?’ he asked, vanishing out of the front door and reappearing with a black garment bag. ‘I have something special for you.’

‘Ohhhh.’ I clapped my hands together and jumped off the stool, clipping my black fluffy towel to me by the power of my armpits. ‘What is it?’

‘I knew you wouldn’t sit still while I did your make-up if I brought it in, so I left it out there,’ he said. ‘Mr Bennett picked it. I had the final say. And yes, before you ask, it will fit.’

I pressed my hands over my mouth and tried not to cry as he pulled down the zip to reveal the red Valentino ballgown I’d been cooing over during the shoot. It really was remarkable. We’d had to pin it to Martha during the shoot, so there was a tiny sliver of a chance that Kekipi was right, that the dress would go on me. Jane Bennett had easily been as tall as I was, but we definitely did not share the same proportions. Her waist was offensively tiny and no amount of light and delicious food was going to change that.

‘What if I sit down and Hulk out?’ I whined as he pulled down the concealed zip in the back of the dress and beckoned for me to step into the skirt. ‘I’m deceptively fat. I get away with it because I’m tall.’

‘You are not fat,’ Kekipi snapped back. ‘Frickin’ women, always thinking they’re obese because they have an arse.’

‘Wasn’t thinking about my arse, actually,’ I said sulkily. ‘But thanks for the feedback.’

‘Shut up and put out your arms,’ he commanded. The dress felt surprisingly light and the skirt fell about my legs, fluttering lightly and demanding a twirl. I had to mentally staple my feet to the floor to stop myself from spinning. So this was how it felt to be a princess. Screw you, Kate, it was my time to shine. I felt absolutely beautiful. ‘And anyway, Jane wore this while she was pregnant with Artie. It’s empire line, so there’s plenty of room in the waist.’

And suddenly I felt like a fatty again.

But it didn’t matter. As soon as Kekipi parked me in front of the mirror, all was forgotten. If this was maternity wear, then someone needed to knock me up, pronto. The lipstick-red shade of the fabric made my lack of a tan an asset rather than an embarrassment, and the loose, soft waves that Kekipi had teased out of my hair made the whole thing look soft and romantic rather than uncomfortable and formal. I wasn’t afraid to move; I wasn’t scared I would rip it. We were a team ? the dress breathed when I did. Floor-length layers of red silk floated in front of me and a deep, sleeveless V-neck bodice flattered my boobs and cinched in my waist. And Kekipi was right. The high empire line waist wasn’t too tight, and more importantly, I could already tell it was going to allow for eating. Hurrah.

‘Oh God, you’ve got to take a picture of me in this,’ I said, not able to look away from the mirror. ‘My friend Amy will never believe it.’ Not that she’d called me back yet.

‘Done and done,’ he replied, hands on my shoulders. ‘I think you’re ready, Cinders. I need to get you to the ball.’

‘We’re going to a ball?’ I was utterly non-plussed.

Kekipi shook his handsome head. ‘Not exactly, but you do have somewhere to be, and if I don’t get you there before midnight, Prince Charming will likely be pissed.’

‘My date isn’t with you?’

‘Honey, even dolled up like this, you’re just not my type.’ Kekipi took my hand and walked me to the front door. ‘You don’t need your shoes. Follow me, lover.’

So transfixed was I by my own reflection that we were locked in the back of one of Al’s SUVs before I realized I had still not eaten anything, either light or delicious. I pressed a sad hand against my empty belly and sniffed. So this was how models stayed so skinny.

No matter how pretty, graceful and grown-up I looked, when my stomach was rumbling, I was complaining. Kekipi fished around in the back of the SUV and managed to come up with two packets of biscuits wrapped in cellophane which I inhaled without bothering to ask where they had come from or how long they had been in the car. I did not care. I was so hungry. By the time the car rumbled to a halt, I was covered in very un-Valentino crumbs that Kekipi was obsessively picking off me in a very disgruntled manner.

‘I knew we shouldn’t have put you in something so elegant,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘There were some perfectly good mumus in that closet.’

‘Oh, shut up,’ I sang, hopped up on a tiny amount of sugar and arrival giddiness. I still had no idea where we were and Kekipi wasn’t parting with any details, but I’d deduced, from his Prince Charming comment, that Nick was most likely involved, and I couldn’t wait for him to see me in my dress. ‘Where are we?

‘You shut up,’ he snapped back, grumpy but smiling. ‘Get out of the car and you’ll see. Honestly, the things I do for love.’

The driver opened my door before I had a chance to and I gave him as pretty a smile as I could manage, given that all I really wanted to do was jump up and down and do the Snoopy dance of joy. The entire afternoon had vanished in a vortex of photo editing, make-up application and mystery road trips and, wherever I was, the sun was setting, casting a pinkish orange glow through the low, lush trees that hung overhead. Somewhere nearby, I heard water running. It was all very familiar but not.

‘That way.’ Kekipi nodded towards a narrow sandy path leading into the trees. ‘I’ll see you later, princess.’

‘Am I being sacrificed to a giant monkey?’ I asked, my nervous energy turning into flat-out nerves. ‘Because no dress is worth that.’

‘Go away.’ He flicked a hand at me and hopped back into the car. ‘Call me when you’re engaged.’

And just like magic, my nerves turned into complete and utter, all-consuming terror.

‘He’s joking,’ I whispered to my dress as I made my way down the path. ‘It’s just not a funny joke.’

Somehow I managed to keep my feet moving one in front of the other. The sound of water changed from running to rushing, the smell of the frangipani flowers swam all around me, and as I peered between the trees, I started to see little tealights appear. At first it was just one or two grouped together on the left or right side of the path, but as the path turned into a stairway, the candles became more common. Each step was lit with three tiny white candles in little glass jars. One or two had already blown out, but it was still beautiful. Ever so slightly cheesy, but very, very beautiful. It took me too long to work out why the sound of the water was so familiar, and I was almost at the bottom of the steps before I saw the waterfall. Right where we had laid in the sand was Nick. The self-satisfied smile on his face melted away when he saw me.

‘Wow,’ he whistled.

‘Yeah,’ I exclaimed, hands above my head. ‘I know.’

By the water, Nick, and presumably Kekipi, had set up a small round table that was covered in food and looked almost as good as my date. I stopped at the bottom of the steps and gave myself a moment to take it all in. The heavy scent of the flowers, the rush of water, all the little glowing candles and, in the middle of it all, the man who had done this, just for me. His hair was still a mess ? by now I’d realized it always was ? but his shirt and jeans were smart, and his eyes sparkled all the way across the beach. When he wasn’t looking smug, his smile was infectious, and I felt a happy grin spread across my own face. I couldn’t help but feel a little overdressed, compared with Nick’s ensemble, but at the same time, it was a very pretty dress. Probably not the best for swimming in, though. Probably ought to stay out of the water.

‘You found your way, then?’ Nick called, giving me a wave. ‘Are you coming down or not?’

‘Did you know there was a footpath to this bloody place?’ I bellowed, looking back at the steps I’d just descended with so very much grace and breaking his spell. ‘I nearly broke my neck on Wednesday and there’s a bloody staircase back there, Nick Miller.’

Nick smiled, said nothing and picked a bottle of champagne out of a silver ice bucket.

‘In the interests of this evening going well, I’m just going to ignore you,’ he said, popping the cork and pouring out a glass – just the one – and taking a sip. I remained on the other side of the beach. ‘Have you got any idea how long it takes to carry and light two hundred candles?’

‘Half of them have gone out.’ I flipped my hair and strode as agitated as was possible in a floor-length ballgown, on sand, and sat down at the table. The lure of food was irresistible. I was powerless in its presence. And Nick didn’t look half bad either. ‘Maybe you should run back up and relight them while I have my tea.’

‘Maybe you should be quiet,’ he replied, filling up a second glass of champagne and handing it to me, his fingertips just missing mine as I took it, but even the potential for skin-on-skin contact made me shiver. I breathed in deeply, breathed out slowly, and sipped my drink. ‘Nice frock,’ he said.

‘It’s all right, isn’t it?’ I fanned the skirt out around me and tried to steady my pulse. Between being completely famished and totally overwhelmed by what was happening, I couldn’t rely on my voice to stay calm. And there was nothing sexy about a squeaky comeback. ‘Just something I keep for hanging out at the beach.’

‘It works,’ Nick nodded, sitting down in the chair next to mine, his knee touching my knee. ‘You should wear it more often.’

‘Thinking it’ll look good down the job centre on Monday.’ I took a sip of my champagne and immediately realized my mistake. That was Tess’s problem not Vanessa’s. ‘Because I’m never going to work as a photographer again,’ I added quickly.

‘Those photos you took this morning were beautiful,’ he said. ‘You know they were. I told you everything would be OK if you just trusted yourself. You didn’t need Paige directing you; you needed Paige gone.’

‘It wasn’t Paige’s fault,’ I replied, feeling the faint twang of betrayal as Nick loaded my plate with bread and fish and, blee, salad. ‘It was everything. Today was better because we had Al. If he’d been around since the beginning, none of this would have happened.’

‘If he’d been around from the beginning, I probably wouldn’t be here now,’ Nick replied. ‘I’d been planning to change my flight to leave as soon as I’d got the interview.’

‘Something exciting to rush home for?’ I asked, popping a piece of marinated pork in my mouth and trying not to make inappropriate noises. Fuck me, it was delicious. ‘Hot date?’

Nick didn’t say anything. Instead he made a disgruntled sighing noise and gave his head a shake before his expression hardened. Satisfied he’d plied me with enough food and booze, he started to serve himself. In silence.

‘Did you refile the interview?’ I asked.

‘I did,’ he said. ‘Did you send the photos?’

‘I wanted to show Paige first. She’s been missing all day. I haven’t been able to get hold of her.’

Nick laughed, his blue eyes softening a little. ‘She’s been off shopping all day. You should have sent them to Steph yourself. She should know it was your idea.’

‘I don’t want to stab Paige in the back,’ I said, silently adding, ‘any more than I am right now.’

‘I’m guessing this is why our paths have never crossed before, Vanessa Kittler.’ Nick raised his glass in a toast. ‘You’re too nice.’

‘Vanessa Kittler, you’re too nice,’ I echoed, touching my glass to his and taking the tiniest sip. ‘Words that have never been uttered before and will likely never be uttered again.’

‘You really have got it in for yourself, haven’t you?’ he said, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Apparently we’d been smart for as long as we needed to be. ‘OK, since this went so well last time, let’s play a game. I want you to choose five words to describe yourself.’

‘Hungry, tired, overdressed and …’ I glanced round at my surroundings for inspiration. ‘Annoyed that we didn’t use the stairs on Wednesday. Your turn.’

‘That’s more than five words,’ he admonished, flexing his forearm as he reached out for more bread. I resisted the urge to bite it. Just barely. ‘I’ll go after you.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ I said, huffing and cramming an entire chicken skewer into my mouth. I hoped Kekipi was prepared to send care packages once I’d left ? every mouthful of food was delicious. ‘Fine. Hard-working, loyal, dedicated and still tired and hungry.’

‘You don’t believe all that any more than I do,’ Nick responded, leaning back in his chair and giving me a full headshake this time. ‘Are they honestly the best attributes you can come up with, or are you just being stupidly self-effacing? Because I can’t decide which is more irritating.’

‘Well, I’d add in stone-cold fox, but I’m worried I’d seem a bit full of myself,’ I replied through a mouthful of pig. ‘Your turn.’

‘Clever, perceptive, funny, loyal and quick.’ He counted his words off on his fingers. ‘And obviously a stone-cold fox.’

‘This is not the first time you’ve played this game, is it?’ I asked. ‘I feel cheated.’