Best Maid Plans Page 12

  I put my hands on my hips. I was offended, disgusted and very chuffed. “You think?”

  “Oh yeah, wait ‘til Berne sees you.” She grinned up at me. “Talking of...” Rebecca’s voice trailed off into a long groan.

  I turned as in sauntered Berne.

  My mouth dropped open; My heart smashed into a cartwheel, backflip and quite possibly a whole gymnastic floor routine. Her hair fell around her face, soft, voluminous, her cheeks cut with it, her eyes even more magnetic, her jawline accentuated and the strands hugged her strong neck.

  It was official: I was speechless.

  Berne’s eyes tracked over my face with hunger. Like she hadn’t seen me for years and was desperate to reacquaint herself.

  My stomach wriggled, joining in the floor routine while my heart headed for the trampoline—Good thing my body was a lot more supple than me. If I tried anything of the sort, I’d get the talc up my nose, have a sneezing fit and rip my lycra one piece.

  “Pip,” Rebecca whispered. “Think you’re drooling.”

  I nodded. I was.

  Stephanie looked from me, to Rebecca, to Berne, to a beaming Sergio and chuckled. “I think you do a good job.”

  He beamed wider. “I agree.”

  Berne pulled out a credit card and he waved his hand through the air.

  “Non, non, non. I tell you this, I tell Babs this. You come here. I make you more beautiful. You make me look good.” He snapped his fingers with a grin. “Now, you go, you dress, you make Babs wide-eyed and happy, non?”

  Rebecca chewed her lip. “That’s the hope...”

  He tutted. “Oh, she will love it.”

  “She will, you look wonderful, oui?” Stephanie took Rebecca’s arm, dragging her after Sergio as he strode off.

  Berne leaned against the doorframe, her eyes shimmering with affection. “I fall in love encore each time I see you.”

  I strolled over—Well, tried to stroll—Must have looked like I had a floppy leg.

  Berne chuckled, stroking my cheek. She placed her forehead to mine, breathing in, her gaze tracking over my lips. “I am so happy you come back to me.”

  “Makes the two of us.” I kissed her on the chin. “Who else would let me seduce them on a baking hot scaffold?”

  Berne wiggled her eyebrows. “I think I would have much competition.”

  “Not in the slightest.” I tapped her nose with my finger, trying for restraint. I could manage it, I had to manage it. I didn’t fancy having to explain seducing her in a salon.

  Berne took my hand in hers. “Pepe—”

  “Will you two quit being so loved up for a minute?” Rebecca stood in the hallway, hands on hips. “You can canoodle when I’ve wowed Babs.”

  “Canoodle...” I chuckled. “Good word.”

  Rebecca smiled. “Yeah, sounds even funnier in a French accent.”

  We both looked at Berne.

  “I am not saying this.” She frowned, nipping at my bottom lip.

  “Canoodle,” Rebecca said. “Stephanie, how do you say it?”

  Berne burrowed into the side of my neck and I chuckled.

  Stephanie wandered over. “What is this word?” She asked in French.

  “What they’re doing,” Rebecca muttered. “What they’re always doing.”

  Stephanie smiled. “It is love, non?” She sounded like she knew what Rebecca was up to and was matching her.

  “Oh come on, say it?” Rebecca flashed a cheeky smile at her. “You guys laugh at our pronunciations all the time.”

  “Oui.” Stephanie winked at me and motioned to the door. “We have to go find you something to match your hair.”

  “You should hear them say Fish Lips,” I said, nodding as Rebecca burst into laughter. “Oh yeah.”

  Berne nipped at my neck. “You find me amusing?”

  “You don’t think it sounds funny?” I smiled as Rebecca’s chuckles grew. “You say it ‘fee-sh leaps.’”

  “I also say this...” Berne purred against my neck, kissed over my chin and pressed her lips to mine. Her hand slid through my hair as she swept circles through every thought with her kiss. I murmured, whimpered and maybe half-swooned.

  She pulled away and nodded to Stephanie. “We walk?”

  Stephanie grinned. “Can Pepe walk?”

  I blinked. She had a point.

  “Pip, at least try and hold your own.” Rebecca shook her head. “Where’s the fight?”

  I cleared my throat. “Fight?”

  “These French belles think they win all the time. As if we English women can’t rock them when we want to.” Bless her, she really did look offended. “We need to show them we are more than just putty.”

  Berne strolled over to Sergio, kissing him on each cheek and strolled out, laughing, with Stephanie.

  My heart was still attempting the parallel bars.

  “Pip.” Rebecca prodded me. “You listening or what?”

  I turned to her and nodded.

  “We need to show them.” She prodded me again. “You need to remind her that she’s just as doe-eyed as you.”

  I nodded again. Rebecca sighed and took my elbow, leading me over to Sergio.

  He winked at me. “I think Bebe approves, non?”

  I nodded, again.

  “She’s stunned her,” Rebecca muttered. “We have no defence.”

  Sergio grinned. “I hear much of this battle, non. You do not have this now?”

  “I have to admit, France is edging the tie. Babs has some moves.” She grinned, some smutty thought making her eyes twinkle.

  “Berne just is... well... Berne.” Ooh, I managed words.

  “See, we’re pathetic.” Rebecca shook her head. “We need to be strong.”

  “Yes, strong,” I repeated.

  “We need to show that we can seduce them whenever we feel like it,” she continued as we headed out onto the street.

  “We can seduce them.” I sounded like I was in the army.

  “We need to show that we can resist when need be.” Rebecca held her finger up like that made any difference.

  “Resist,” I mumbled. My gaze drifted to Berne who had her sunglasses on, her skin glistening, her smile calling me, luring me in. I wheezed out a breath. “Any ideas?”

  “Not right now,” Rebecca muttered. “But I’ll think of something.”

  Berne peered over her sunglasses at me.

  My stomach wriggled in response. “Why are we resisting again?”

  “Dignity,” Rebecca snapped. “They’re winning too easily, Pip.”

  Dignity, right. Well, I’d never been acquainted with it. I sighed as we reached Berne and she slid her hand into mine. Resist? Why? I didn’t even care that we were in public, Berne looked so good. Resisting had been close to impossible before, when I’d been with Doug and Berne had been with Fish Lips. It hadn’t worked then.

  Berne pulled me close, her kiss confident and her smile knowing. Resist her lips, her smile, her arms? Pretend I could resist wanting to kiss her? My heart did some kind of springboard vault with her murmured purrs against my neck as we walked.

  “Canoodle,” Berne whispered into my ear in such a way that I shuddered right to my toes.

  I groaned. When I said it, it made Rebecca and I burst into fits of laughter.

  “You don’t play fair,” I whispered back.

  “Non,” she said with a sneaky smile. “The battle is still on, oui?”

  “Oh, don’t you start.” I sighed. “Rebecca will have me in training at this rate.”

  “Pip, we can do this. Don’t let her get to you. We’ll show them.” Rebecca strode along like she was determined.

  Stephanie chuckled. “She is serious, non?”

  “That’s what worries me,” I muttered. “She’s a lot like Babs when she has a plan.”

  Berne and Stephanie sucked in a breath.

  I nodded. “Oh yeah, Babs isn’t going to know what’s hit her.”

  Chapter 14

  Our next stop was
a designer boutique that was so posh, it didn’t even have a name over the door, it just had the letter H.

  I wandered over to one jacket that caught my eye and picked up the price tag: Right, more than a penthouse in Kensington. Lovely. If I scuttled out now, they might not arrest me.

  “Pepe, come, this is Caroline,” Stephanie said. It sounded like Ca-ro-lean in her accent. “She has always liked to dress me.”

  Rebecca gave a smutty chuckle off to the side somewhere.

  “She said dress not undress,” I muttered and smiled at the woman in front of me: She had big eyes, brown and a smile that showed she knew how to pose in front of a camera. She was skinny, tall... and bald. It suited her. I couldn’t fathom why but it did.

  Stop staring. I shoved my hand out. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  Caroline moved in, slinking under my arm and scoured every part of me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Berne. She nodded reassurance. Oh, don’t rescue me then, just let her drag me off.

  “You will need support.” Caroline grabbed hold of my breasts and hoisted them. “They are pulling your shoulders down.”

  “They aren’t that big,” I muttered, fighting to urge to bat her off. I glanced at Berne again: She chatted to Stephanie like this was normal practice. Helpful.

  Caroline grabbed my hips and squeezed my bottom. “Good tone. Good lift. We will need to accentuate this.”

  I turned to try and see. I had good lift, really?

  She dropped to her knees; ran her hands over my thighs and down to my calves. “Good length. Not fat.”

  Was she frisking me? I peered down. “Manual labour for you.”

  She yanked off my shoe, squeezing my foot. “No bunions. no problems.”

  What was she, a podiatrist? “Er... thanks?”

  Caroline snapped to her feet, gaze intense. She yanked my arms out, feeling over them.

  I glanced at Rebecca for help but she had a nervous glint in her eyes. She glanced at the door and I pursed my lips. If I was getting frisked, so was she.

  “You have strong arms, a sexy neck.” Caroline ran her hands over my shoulders. “Good line, good shape.” She pinched at my stomach. “Not much excess. Bon.”

  I shrugged. “Chocolate is good for you?”

  She spun me around and pulled up my top. She ran her hands over my back. So wrong. So very un-British. This was engagement territory in my eyes.

  “Ooh, I like this line,” she said in a delighted tone. Was she talking to me? “I work with this.”

  She dropped my top and strode off. Right. Well. Lucky me.

  “Pepe, she is a genius. You understand her ways, non?” Berne slid her arms around me and purred into my ear. “You are not always easy to understand.”

  Was she calling me a genius? “What am I so clever at?”

  “Many things. You caress the wood with ease; bring out its inner beauty, non?”

  I raised my eyebrow at her. “That’s called sanding down. If Caroline brings out any tools, I’m running.”

  Caroline popped her head out of a curtain. “I have a wardrobe for you. Come, change.”

  “She has a way with women, huh?” I mumbled, getting a chuckle from Berne as I wandered over to Caroline. I stopped. Blinked. She hadn’t been kidding. She did have an entire wardrobe. “How?”

  “Change. Allez!” She clapped her hands and strode out.

  Genius, right. I picked up a jacket like the one I’d fancied. “Hopefully she likes charity cases.”

  ◆◆◆

  Primped, dressed and manhandled more than was polite, I made my way into the front of the shop. I didn’t know how long I’d been stuck with Caroline but it felt like months. She hadn’t had a conversation with me the entire time. My various body parts however, had a running dialogue with her... And I thought I was unhinged.

  No one was in the front of the shop. I eyed the squishy sofa. Perfect. I plonked onto it with a groan. I sounded like my mother. Not good.

  A tall, dark headed woman strolled in, whipped off her glasses and studied me. “Caroline,” her voice was soft, low, purring.

  Caroline scuttled out of the back. “Oui, Madame?”

  “The collar needs to be up.” She flicked the sunglasses in my direction.

  Caroline nodded, hurried over and yanked up the collar on my jacket. “This is better?”

  The woman trailed her gaze over me. “Oui.”

  I frowned. An “hello, how are you, would you mind sticking the collar up on your jacket?” would have been nice. Maybe even introducing herself or perhaps talking to me?

  “Ah, Stephanie. You wear this as I envisioned.” The woman strode over and embraced Stephanie, a soft kiss on each cheek. She lifted Stephanie’s chin to look at her and smiled. “You have a noble chin.”

  “Merci, Madame,” Stephanie whispered. She sounded like a nervous child. “It is very kind of you to spend your time on us.”

  The woman smiled. “You are like family, I love my family.”

  Rebecca strutted out of the back and the woman’s eyes flicked to her. I cocked my head. Wow, Whitely: Trousers that showed off her legs, stylish, a shirt that showed every bit of her ample chest and covered all her tattoos and the blues brought out those lovely eyes of hers. There was no sign of the crocodile shoes—hurray—but cool black boots that made her look like she could own a penthouse in Monaco. Atta girl.

  “Turn,” the woman ordered Rebecca.

  She raised her unruly eyebrows. “Huh?”

  The woman swivelled her long finger around. I loved the colour on her nail vanish. I looked down at my own fingernails: short, jagged with bruises under them from when I’d hammered myself not the wood.

  Rebecca looked behind her. “I forgot a tag or something?”

  “Tournait droit.” Ooh, the woman’s voice was smooth. The inflections in it so much like Babs. Maybe the Monaco accent?

  Rebecca did as ordered, alarm in her eyes. “If you’re going to start poking my backside about too, I’ll need to ring Babs. She’s so not going to be happy with people touching me.”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “This cut is perfect. I want it tighter on the evening wear.” She clicked and Caroline nodded, hurrying off.

  “Um... if it is any tighter, I’m not going to get into it.” Rebecca breathed out a breath. “Where am I going to stick my phone?”

  “In your handbag.” The woman’s tone was curt but held a trace of amusement. Were the corners of her lips twitching? The smile was so familiar. Had we met her?

  “I don’t do handbags.” Rebecca turned around and shrugged. “I don’t. I need pockets.”

  The woman eyed her, deep brown eyes filled with a twinkle. “It is unconventional.”

  Rebecca wheezed out a breath. “Yeah, well. I’m not even close to conventional.” She looked at me. “I don’t even know if I can do this, Pip. I love her but this...” she motioned to herself, speaking in English. “Just feels like someone else.”

  “But you look gorgeous. You look suave and sexy. Babs is worth dressing up for now and again, right?” I smiled at the woman, hoping she wouldn’t mind me chipping in and the fact we weren’t speaking French.

  “She’s worth more than I can put into words.” Rebecca sighed, flicking at the silver cufflinks on her shirt. “I love every single thing about her but I suck at pretending to be what I’m not.” She bowed her head. “I want her to love me for who I am.”

  “She does.” I nodded. She did. I knew Babs did. “...but we’re impressing parents, remember? Possible parents-in-law who can adore you for who you are.” I chewed on my lip as Stephanie and Madame, whoever she was, mumbled on in French. “Parents who you really want to give their blessing when you drag her up the aisle.”

  Madame raised an eyebrow at me.

  I sighed and righted my collar.

  “You’re right. I want them to love me for her.” Rebecca sucked in a breath. “But I’m not having a handbag.” She muttered it in French.

&
nbsp; The woman smiled a knowing smile. “Unconventional.”

  I was sure I’d met her. I knew her from somewhere.

  “Yeah. So can we do unconventional and still help me impress?” Rebecca smiled her best charming smile. “I really want to make Babs see I’m trying. I need her parents to love me because I don’t think I can cope if they tell her they don’t like me.” Alarm glinted through her eyes again. “I don’t think I could breathe.”

  I hurried over and rubbed her back, hoping the woman or Caroline wouldn’t clothesline me for crumpling their designs.

  Stephanie gave me a real warm smile of affection and a nod. “Pepe, you once again make me fall in love,” she said with a chuckle. “I love this skirt.”

  I twirled for her and pointed to her pale pink blouse. “You always look stunning.”

  She curtseyed.

  The woman narrowed her eyes at me. Okay, what was the issue? And where did I know her from? “I’m with Berne. I love Ber...”

  My voice faded into a groan as Berne appeared in the hallway: A suit on that hugged her legs, her arms, her body and, matched with the hair, made any chance of resistance fizzle. If chocolate was a person, she’d be it.

  “I don’t know who I dig more,” Rebecca whispered. “You or her.”

  “Definitely her,” I mumbled.

  “Both?” Stephanie said. “I say both.”

  Rebecca met her eyes, a smile playing across her lips. “Yeah, both.”

  “But not as much as Babs, right?” I prodded her. Focus, Whitely.

  “Oh Babs wins but she’ll drool too.” Rebecca nodded, a dopey look on her face. “We’ll just drool together.”

  Berne strolled toward us, her gaze locked on me. I was in love... again. Could you fall in love repeatedly with the same person?

  “Bebe, you are too delicious for words,” the woman said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

  Berne’s eyes filled with affection. Whoever the woman was, she knew Berne more than just an acquaintance. So I must know her, but from where?

  “You are also this, Madame Henri.” She pulled back and placed a kiss on both cheeks.

  Shit.

  Rebecca gripped my hand.

  I gripped back.

  Madame Henri.