What's A Housekeeper To Do? / Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds

‘Is the writing not going well?’ Lally’s words were empathetic.

He shook his head. ‘I’ve got a scene planned in my mind, but when I try to write it I can’t visualise it properly. I can’t “see” the heroine in my mind’s eye. I’m not sure how to use their surroundings. It’s a scene that I know will work, but I can’t seem to get it to work. I think as long as the heroine remains shadowy in my mind, this problem is going to continue.’

‘What would bring her to life for you?’ Lally’s eyebrows drew together as she considered the matter. ‘Could you “interview” her? Ask her questions to get to know her?’

‘Stream-of-consciousness interviewing? I did try that about a week ago, but I didn’t get anywhere with it.’ Cam forced himself not to scowl his irritation over this. ‘I feel as though I need to somehow throw her into the middle of this scene, really get in deep there with her. Once I see how she reacts, the pieces will all come together. Maybe.’

‘Hmm.’ Lally was silent for a long moment. She tipped her head to the side and tapped her finger on her chin before her eyes lit up. ‘When Mum gets stuck on a painting, she tells my aunt the concept. Auntie takes a sheet of paper and whips out her interpretation of how she’d do the painting. Mum invariably says that’s not how the idea should be executed! Rejecting one idea helps Mum to figure out how she wants to execute it.’

‘That’s an interesting concept.’ It was Cam’s turn to frown. ‘I’d try that, if there was a chance it would rattle loose my interpretation. But how?’

‘You need a “volunteer from the audience”.’ The smile deepened on Lally’s lovely mouth. ‘Someone, or more than one person, to act out the scene for you. You don’t have to like how they do it, but it might help you figure out what you do want for the scene.’

Cam gave a surprised laugh. ‘That could just work. I’d have to find an acting society or a theatre group willing to act it.’

‘Or you and I could do it.’ The words came out in a little rush and she immediately bit her lip. ‘Not if you didn’t want us to, but if you didn’t want the hassle of trying to find real actors—if you only needed to play-act it to help you figure it out—we could do that, couldn’t we?’

‘We could.’ Her enthusiasm started to spread through him too. ‘My idea is a wheels-within-wheels kind of situation, where he’s pretending interest in her but he suspects her of being a double agent or spy or assassin. He thinks if he disarms her with food, wine and attention he’ll figure out what she’s up to.’ He went on. ‘She’s got an equal number of suspicions about him. She pretends to be “buyable” for the night, to gain access to his hotel room to search it later, and then she’s going to disappear—but he lures her to the roof top of the building after dinner when he suspects her motives are as duplicitous as his are.’

Cam drew a breath. ‘Before dinner he spends money on her, buying her a dress and other gifts.’

‘It really is wheels within wheels.’ Lally’s eyes were like stars. ‘Oh, but that sounds so exciting. We could role-play the whole evening from beginning to end. It wouldn’t have to be an exact match, but it could be a lot of fun!’

‘Let’s do it.’ Cam’s smile spread until it was as wide as hers. ‘It’ll have to be late in the day. If we’re going to do this I want the right atmosphere, time of night, all of it.’

Happiness filled her face. ‘Tonight?’

Cam couldn’t seem to look away from that happiness. ‘Yes, we’ll do it tonight. We’ll leave here at seven p.m. I’d better get on the computer and figure out where we can go that will provide the kind of backdrop I want.’ He started to turn away; he had to turn away. ‘Can you manage that?’

‘Of course.’ She did a little bounce on the balls of her feet. ‘I’ll go on with other work until you’re ready for us to leave.’

He looked at her and tried not to think about the curve of the side of her face, her cheek, her chin and her lush lips that looked soft and kissable. ‘We’ll be out until around midnight, so feel free to take some time off this afternoon before we leave. I don’t want to over-tire you.’

‘I’ll take a nap for an hour if I can get to sleep,’ Lally conceded, but with a glow of anticipation still all over her face.

Somehow Cam doubted she would relax into sleep in this mood, but he wasn’t a good one to gauge her chances. Just because he wouldn’t have been able to sleep in the afternoon didn’t mean she might not be able to nod off any time she decided she wanted to.

‘I’ll see you at seven.’ He glanced at her clothes. ‘You can come dressed as you are now, or in something similar; it doesn’t really matter. Choosing clothes in the same way the female character would do that tonight will be part of our role-play. I’ll need to locate a big hotel that has boutique stores. We’ll shop there, enact the time in the dining room, and then go up on the rooftop for that part.’

Her eyes widened. ‘It—it won’t cost you a lot, will it? I didn’t mean to suggest…’

‘Something that might get my writing back on track after weeks of it driving me crazy because I haven’t been able to get there?’ He felt lighter than he had in all those weeks. ‘If it costs me a little to organise this evening and I get a result, I will be more than happy, so don’t give that another thought. Whatever I spend I’ll be able to tax-deduct, anyway.’

‘Well, I guess.’ Lally frowned. ‘Make sure it’s a hotel that does clothing hire, or has cheap stores. We can go through the motions, buy or hire what we have to, I guess, but keep the expense right down.’

Cam smiled at the earnest face looking at him. ‘You need to think of it as a cross between Cinderella and—I don’t know—winning a shopping spree or something.’

‘Oh, well, okay. I guess.’

‘Good.’ Cam turned away. ‘I’ll see you when it’s time to go.’

‘This is it. The boutique shops inside should provide what we need.’ Cam spoke to Lally as he handed his car keys to a parking valet. He paused on the footpath that led into the hotel itself.

Lally drew a big breath. ‘So we’re all set for our night’s acting. Oh, I hope it’ll be fun, and you’ll go back later and your story will just pour out of your fingertips because your imagination will have worked out what you want to do. The hotel looks awfully fancy.’

Her anticipation was so sweet that Cam just had to smile. Lally might enjoy wearing some different clothes, too, he thought with a hint of fondness that crept up on him. She dressed nicely already, but sometimes he felt she dressed to try not to be noticed. ‘I haven’t fully explained the final part of the evening when we’ll go up on the rooftop: you’ll be entirely safe, but I need an unanticipated reaction out of you. If you don’t mind.’

‘Your mysteriousness is making my imagination run wild.’ Lally admitted this with a smile as she met Cam’s gaze. ‘I don’t mind. You can surprise me. That can be part of the fun too.’

Cam cleared his throat. ‘Thanks for being a good sport about it. You truly won’t mind being dressed up and having your hair and make-up done?’

‘Hair and make-up too?’ Her eyes widened. ‘I imagine I’ll feel as though I’m being thoroughly spoiled.’

Lally gave her answer to Cameron and tried to gather her concentration. Cinderella; he’d said to think of it as that.

Her boss in a dinner suit; that was a big part of the reason for her distraction. In truth, Lally did feel like Cinderella—well, Cinderella with a slightly weary but anticipation-filled prince at her side.

A prince who looked divine clothed this way, and wore his exhaustion more attractively than should be legal.

When she’d first emerged from her room and seen Cameron waiting for her, Lally’s pulse had raced.

‘Thank you for agreeing to this,’ he’d said, and clasped her hand briefly before leading the way outside to his car. Beautiful car, gorgeous driver. Cameron had relaxed her with easy conversation during the trip, and even now as they walked through the hotel he somehow made her feel special whether he was looking all about him to research his book or not.

A night out of time, that was what this would be for Lally. She could do it, of course she could, and have a whole lot of fun in the process!

Cam led her straight to the grouping of boutique clothing-stores with fashionably sparse window-displays. Lally glanced around the opulent hotel’s interior; that opulence tied in with what she saw here. A qualm struck; she leaned towards Cam and whispered urgently, ‘That looks like a designer original dress in the window.’

‘It is, but from my research there are plenty of non-designer dresses in the shop as well.’ Cam stepped inside without giving Lally a chance to argue it one way or another. ‘And here’s our shop assistant ready to help us.’

‘But the money,’ Lally whispered, and tugged on his arm. ‘It all looks expensive. You can’t…’

He turned and gave a reassuring smile. ‘These purchases are a legitimate business expense. I’ll claim them against tax, and I get to give a great housekeeper the gift of a few things after we’ve used them for my research—if you’d like them. You’ll let me do that rather than throwing them out, won’t you?’

‘Throw?’ Lally bit back a gasp. He wanted her to let him buy the things and then give them to her, but she’d thought if that happened it would be in a very inexpensive way.

‘It’s not hurting anything, Lally.’ He said it in such a businesslike way. ‘I need this kind of setting. You understand?’

Lally calmed down a little. This was just work, when all was said and done. Unusual, maybe, but still work.

If her awareness of him suggested differently, well, she would get that sorted out. She would. She’d just watch very carefully to make sure they didn’t end up buying a dress that cost a ridiculous amount of money.

‘Good evening. How may I help you?’ The saleswoman was already sizing Lally up.

‘We need a dress. Something bright, flattering and elegant; a handbag; earrings, and I think…’ Cam’s gaze shifted to Lally’s neck and lingered there. ‘Yes, a necklace. I’ll know what I want for that once we choose the dress. Hmm…’ He turned to the saleswoman.

‘I don’t know much about this, but something that will suit her colouring, bring out the brown of her eyes and make the most of her hair. That’s what I want.’

You should be in colours, Latitia. You were born for them on all sides of your family tree!

Mum had said that to her—recently, actually, now Lally thought of it. She had given Lally an almost disappointed look when Lally had shrugged her shoulders and said she preferred plain colours, and shades that blended rather than stood out. Mum had looked away and muttered something about ‘long-term hibernation behaviour. ’

A week later Lally had finished working at the fishing-tackle-and-bait store, and she’d no longer been needed in the next job she’d had lined up in the family. The whole family had been just fine getting along without her, and she’d ended up with Cam.

Now they were shopping, and he had his arm loosely against her shoulders; when had that happened?

Lally looked away in case she was gaping over the list he’d just given the saleswoman. Lally’s glance fell on a mirror on the shop-wall that showed their reflections. Cam had a spark of enjoyment in his eyes.

Worse was the corresponding sparkle in her eyes.

More dangerous still was how much she liked the look of those two reflections; side by side.

Lally could count on one hand the number of times she’d been out on a date since the disaster of Sam six years ago. The last time must have been over a year ago. Those dates had been pleasant enough, she supposed, but in a very controlled way for her, and she’d never looked for a repeat.

Her reaction just now hadn’t felt controlled. Plus, this was not a date!

‘Nothing designer,’ Lally said with about as much spine in her tone as an overcooked noodle. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Maybe you have a sale rack?’

‘Perish that thought.’ The sales lady said it with good humour, disappeared for a moment and returned with a garment over her arm. ‘Perhaps you’d like to try this? It’s middle range, though it’s an odd thing to be told not to include designer choices!’ She held up a flow of deep-red silk.

‘Oh, it’s…gorgeous.’ The words poured out of Lally’s mouth before she could stop them; to her credit she tried to back-pedal as soon as it happened. ‘That is, I’m not sure. It’s awfully noticeable—the colour and style…’ Lally broke off and turned to Cam. ‘I guess that doesn’t matter. It’s only to help you to figure out what you want.’

‘That’s right. It seems…as good a choice as any.’ He nodded. ‘I’m having fun, Lally, and that’s got to be good for my muse. So, go and try the dress on, please.’

‘It will make you look absolutely radiant, dear.’ Somehow the woman had her hustled through the store and into a changing room with the dress pushed into her hands before Lally quite realised what had happened. Her last glimpse before the dressing room door closed was of Cam turning to examine a shelf of evening bags with a purposeful and cheerful glint in his eyes.

Lally locked the dressing-room door, turned to the mirror, and saw a bright-eyed girl with red silk clutched in her hands.

‘It won’t fit,’ she muttered, not sure if she was being hopeful, practical, hedging her bets or trying to talk herself out of a love affair that had already taken wings the moment the saleswoman held up the dress.

‘You’re such a predictable female, Lally.’ She muttered the words beneath her breath. ‘The first time someone throws a pretty dress at you, and all your past decisions about fashion choices and colours go out the window.’

Oh, but this was different. This wasn’t for her, not really. This was for research so Cam could look at Lally and choose a whole different look for his book character.

It was reverse psychology, and it would work; Lally just knew it would. Lally was just the human mannequin for the evening, as cardboard and one-dimensional as could be.

She was filled with a lot of excitement for someone who was one dimensional, though.

‘Are you done?’ Cam’s voice sounded from outside the cubicle. ‘May I see the dress on you?’

Lally was done. She’d simply been standing there staring mutely at the transformation that had appeared in the mirror. She didn’t feel much like a mannequin; she felt like a girl in a gorgeous dress.

‘I’m not sure if this…’ Lally put her hand on the door latch, unlocked it and pulled it open.

‘You…’ The single word trailed away as Cam’s gaze slowly travelled from her head to her toes and back again.

‘It seems to be the right size.’ Lally resisted the urge to fidget with the hem or twitch the fabric over her hips. The dress fitted like a glove and flowed over her curves in all the right ways.

‘It’s perf—That is, I’m sure it’ll be fine for our purpose, to help me figure out what the heroine in the story would wear.’ Cam gave one slow blink and his voice deepened as he held out his hand. ‘Put these on with it, please.’

A drop-necklace and set of dangling earrings were settled into the palm of her hand, and her fingers were curled closed over them. ‘I slipped out to the jewellery store beside this one while you changed into the dress.’

‘Okay, well, I’ll put them on.’ Their fingers brushed as Lally made sure she had a proper grip on the items.

Her heart was pounding. It was so stupid, but she fell silent as she withdrew her hand. Had Cam’s hand moved away quite slowly, as though he might have been almost reluctant to lose the contact?

‘There’s a bag too.’ His voice was deep and he cleared his throat before he went on. ‘I’ll give that to you when you come out.’

Lally could have put the necklace and earrings on in front of him, but she was rather glad for a moment to herself. She had to pull herself together.

The earrings were simple gold with a pearl drop that bumped against her neck when she moved her head. The matching pearl-drop necklace nestled between her breasts. It would have been difficult to find a set to create a better foil for the dress.

No, Lally, it suits you and the dress perfectly.

Lally tucked her hair behind her ears to showcase the earrings. They really needed an upswept hairstyle; so did the dress. Lally took another proper look in the mirror.

The dress was deep red with a crossover V-neckline that cupped her breasts. It was deceptively simple, clinging in beautifully cut lines until it fell in loose folds to just below her knees. The hem was handkerchief-cut and swirled as she moved.

Cameron had dressed her the way she would have dressed herself six years ago. No; he’d dressed her the way that eighteen-year-old would have dressed six years on if she hadn’t hidden herself in bland colours.

She hadn’t hidden herself. She’d outgrown colours.

Have you, Lally? Because you look great in this, vibrant and alive and ready to take on the world. Ready to participate in the world, not avoid it from within the heart of your family.

Oh, this was silly! Lally was helping Cam; they were doing research. She wanted to get on with that and leave these other thoughts behind her. He’d look at all this, and it might look good on her, but it would help him see how he wanted to dress his heroine. He might put his character in faux fur, or shiny pink plastic, or dress her in blue velvet.

Lally gathered her other clothes into her hands, flung the door open and stepped out. She joined Cam at the service counter where he’d just finished paying for his transaction. ‘I’m ready to get on with the rest of our research.’

And that was what this was truly all about.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘THE hairdresser is next.’ Cam made this announcement and led Lally towards the hotel salon. He pressed a small sparkly bag into her hands as they walked. His other hand held a bag the saleswoman had kindly supplied for Lally’s day clothes. ‘In the scene, the female character would make out that she wanted to be showered with as much “spoiling” as she could get.’

‘And your male lead would be determined to do that, to keep her suspicions at bay about his real motives. They’ll be deep in their false roles.’ Lally took the small bag; she couldn’t take her eyes from his face. The grooves at the sides of his mouth were deep. His face had the kind of stillness that concealed attraction and awareness.

Though she knew she shouldn’t, though there were a thousand reasons why it would be better if she failed to react to this at all, Lally’s gaze locked with his. Her fingers closed about the short strap of the bag, she drew a deep, deep breath and admitted, to herself at least, that she was equally attracted to Cam. That had to stop right now. They had to get the fun back and avoid these other inappropriate responses to each other. It was probably just the atmosphere getting to both of them, anyway.

Somehow Lally got through the appointment with the hair stylist. It helped that Cam sat on a lounge in the waiting area and buried his nose in a magazine.

Half an hour later Lally got up from the chair with her curls artfully drawn away from her face in a high pony-tail with just a few tendrils trailing down her back.

‘Shoes.’ Cameron murmured the single word as his gaze tracked over her hair and the vulnerable nape of her neck.

‘You’ll have to decide about your heroine’s hair,’ Lally said, and hoped the desperate edge couldn’t be heard in her tone. ‘It’s probably ice-blonde, straight and swept up in a bun away from her model-gorgeous face.’

‘Uh, yes. Perhaps.’ Cam drew her to a shoe shop.

Lally’s transformation to Cinderella-dressed-for-the-ball reached its final moment as they stepped through the door. She spotted the sandals immediately. They were third row down on an elegant stand, they had their own name—Grace After Midnight—and she had to have them.

Six inch stiletto gold-and-black heels; tiny criss-cross gold-and-black strips across the instep. Elegant ankle straps. All of Lally’s sensible thoughts and cautions disintegrated for that moment of time. She forgot the purpose of the night, forgot everything—well, not Cam, but he did take second place to the shoes for a minute.

‘I’ll pay for these myself.’ They were in her hands before she finished speaking the words, on her feet moments later. They fit like a dream; these shoes were meant to be.

Lally had her credit card and there were fifty dollars in the pocket of the skirt that had gone into the dress shop bag with her other clothes. She held her hand out to Cam. He came back into focus, and so did his grin that held outright amusement—was that a hint of enchantment?

Of course it isn’t, Lally. It so totally isn’t! ‘I need the bag, please.’

‘No. I’ve got this.’ Cam paid for the shoes and hustled her out of the store.

‘You don’t understand. I had to have them, you see.’ How did she explain the compulsion that took a pair of shoes from stage prop to girl’s best friend? And how that meant she couldn’t let him pay for her pure indulgence.

‘And I’d have paid that much or more for any choice that you made.’ With those few words, Cam dismissed the matter.

And he truly did dismiss it. The glint in his eyes was a good-humoured one, but it also warned her that arguing would be futile. He tucked her arm through his and led her towards the hotel’s restaurant. ‘You look great, Lally. You’re made for bright colours.’

‘That’s what Mum says.’ Business, Lally! She must remember tonight was about his work, no matter how he’d been looking at her or how it felt to walk at his side and feel as though she were made to belong there.

‘Over dinner we’ll discuss where this has put you in terms of figuring out your heroine,’ Lally declared, and led the way with determination towards their dining table.

Lally looked amazing; the thought washed through Cam yet again as he escorted his housekeeper into the restaurant. She looked amazing, was dressed amazingly and walked incredibly in heels that would have stopped a lot of women in their tracks.

He’d told Lally she was made for colours. What he hadn’t said was that she was made for all of this—the dress, the shoes, the lovely hair, the sparkle in her eyes…

Yes, he had needed this research for his story. Seeing Lally in the clothes had somehow made her more vibrant and real to him, and that had, indeed, already helped him to start seeing his book’s heroine.

Not an ice-blonde, but a woman in her late thirties with elegant looks and straight brunette hair in a cap-cut to her head. A woman who wore classic black. Lally’s reverse-psychology theory was working. Her quirky approach to the problem had got him well on the way to resolving it.

He’d thought that to fix his writer’s block he needed a housekeeper to free up his time so he could concentrate better.

What he’d needed was tonight’s insights.

‘This way, please.’ The waiter seated them with a flourish at the table Cam had booked earlier. The man’s gaze rested for a long moment on Lally’s beauty.

Cam could only silently agree.

‘I feel quite transformed.’ Lally’s fingers toyed with the clasp of the small bag in her lap after the waiter walked away. ‘Cinderella ready for the ball, except the shoes aren’t glass.’ Her lips pressed together. ‘Well, this isn’t about me. What would your book character be wearing? What would she have bought in the shop?’

‘The shoes are better than glass.’ They revealed the beauty of Lally’s calf muscles, the delicate shape of her feet, the slender ankles. But that wasn’t something Cam should tell his housekeeper. ‘My heroine would be in a black dress. Full length and fitted. She’s in black stiletto-shoes with a closed toe and heel—what do you call those?’

‘Pumps?’

‘Yes.’ Cam nodded. ‘She’s wearing diamonds, a choker around her throat, a thick tennis-bracelet style of cuff on her right wrist. Earrings that are a carat apiece.’