“Thank you.” My fingers tighten on Mimi’s as I pre-empt her surprise.
“As I said on the phone, the entire store is yours.” Is it odd that the manager is a man? I don’t think I’m qualified to know, given I don’t think I’ve ever been in a woman’s clothing boutique before. “Please do let us know if there’s anything we can help you with.”
He holds the door open as, with a nod of acknowledgment, I pull Mimi past him.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks, his hands pressed together as though in prayer. I suppose he’s giving thanks, considering the eyewatering amount I’d guaranteed to spend here this evening in exchange for keeping the place open. “Madam? Could I perhaps bring you a glass of champagne?”
“No, thank you,” Mimi answers stiffly. I give my head a brief shake.
“Then I shall leave you in the very capable hands of Charlotte,” our best sales associate.” The manager tips his hand to indicate a dark-haired woman around Mimi’s age.
“What have you done?” Mimi whisper-hisses, turning from the obsequious manager. I’ve found money makes people very weird. I should be allowed to treat those I like and love without them making a big song and dance about it.
“Just roll with it.” My reply sounds like a bored sigh.
“I amnothaving a Julia Robert’s moment with you,” she says, trying to snatch back her hand.
“Is that the one where she gets fucked on the piano?”
“Whit!” she castigates in a shocked whisper.
“I thought I was Daddy?” My own volume carries.
“No—no it’s not. You arenotmy daddy—”
“You say that now but…”
She doesn’t bite though she adds, “And you are certainly not my sugar daddy!”
“Of course I’m not,” I answer reasonably, then glance over her head. “Mimi here has had a bit of trouble with an unexploded bomb from the early nineteen forties,” I say, direct my explanation to Charlotte, the dark-haired sales associate standing close enough to have heard everything that’s passed between us. Which Mimi has belatedly realized.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” the woman says, her accent decidedly plummy. “I did hear about that on the radio.” I give her points for not scrunching her nose at Doreen’s Edgeware address.
Meanwhile, Mimi is putting a lot of energy in her evil-eyed narrow glare.You’re going to pay for this, the look seems to suggest.
“I do love promises,” I murmur with a tiny smirk. She probably considers kicking me before, painting on a bland smile, she turns to the sales associate.
“I can’t get in to the house to get my clothes. I have work tomorrow and, well, I’m stuck.” She gives a tiny yet adorable shrug. The kind that makes me want to pick her up and spin her around.
“How frightful,” the woman drawls as though Mimi had just said a pack of hyenas recently devoured her entire family. At Camden market. “Weabsolutelycan help.”
“Fond of a superlative, this one,” I mutter, earning me an elbow in the gut from Mimi.
“Maybe just a skirt and a shirt,” Mimi suggests, glancing warily over her shoulder at me.
“Great! Sounds like a naked Sunday.” I rub my hands together with relish.
“And maybe something a little more casual for tomorrow,” Mimi amends through gritted teeth.
“Underwear?” Charlotte suggests, but Mimi shakes her head.
“Commando also works for me.”
“I’ll wash what I have,” she snipes before turning back to the sales associate all smiles. “But maybe something to sleep in.”
“Something silky,” I suggest.
“I was thinking more flannel pj’s. Maybe a onesie?”
