by Ana McKenzie
‘Merren?’ she said unnecessarily.
‘Bianca.’ The voice in her ear sounded surprised. Then concerned. ‘Are you all right?’
Bianca nodded her head, then reminded herself she was on the phone. Her throat was still scratchy.
‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I remembered that the Public Art Gallery is having its annual gala Friday evening.’ She wound the cord around her fingers and made herself carry on. ‘I was wondering – hoping – you’d go with me to it.’
There was a pause on the other end of the line. ‘Go with you?’ Merren asked. ‘As your what? Date, or assistant?’
Bianca untangled her fingers and rubbed her hand over her face. She hadn’t thought this through at all. This was an unexpected question. A reasonable one, she admitted, but she didn’t have any real idea what she was doing.
‘Um, as my assistant, I guess,’ she said. Then hastened to go on. ‘I mean, this will be the first time I’m out in public as a painter who can’t see what she’s doing. I don’t think I’m up to announcing that I’ve started dating again at the same time.’ She paused and tugged on her hair. Merren didn’t say anything. The silence on the line was awkward, and Bianca found herself wincing. ‘You understand, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘Tell me you understand. After all, we haven’t discussed our relationship – what sort of relationship it is.’
Merren spoke finally and Bianca was relieved to hear that her lovely voice was just as steady as ever.
‘No, you’re right, Bianca. We never have discussed our relationship. We’ve just been enjoying being together.’ Another pause. ‘All right. Okay. I’d love to come with you to the gala. As your personal back-up.’ She gave a low laugh, and Bianca pressed the phone closer to her ear but couldn’t hear any strain in the laugh. Or not enough to worry about, anyway.
‘I would be honoured to do guide dog duty for you at the Art Gallery Gala, Bianca.’
Bianca laughed too, but hers was nervous, even to her own ears. She knew this was an awkward situation. It was for anyone who found themselves sleeping with their assistant, she guessed. But she drew in a breath and found the plastic phone number with her hand again, pressed her palm against it.
‘Thank you, Merren,’ she said. ‘You have no idea how grateful I am you’ve agreed to this. It’s a big deal, making my first reappearance in public, what with everything going on.’ In fact, thinking about it, there were probably things she needed to do to prepare. Like call her agent Macy and tell her the truth.
But that wouldn’t be too bad now, since she could say in the same breath that she was still painting. Bianca nodded to herself. It had been the right thing to do – wait to say anything until she could report that she was still painting.
But Merren was speaking, and Bianca turned her attention back to the voice in her ear.
‘It’s a little better,’ she said, realising Merren was asking about her headache. ‘It’s much better, in fact.’ She frowned. ‘I’ll need to get my hair cut,’ she said. There were half a million things to organise, in fact. ‘Will you be able to come around tomorrow or the next day and take me out to do that?’
Merren agreed without hesitation and that was another relief. Everything was going to go smoothly. Bianca hung up the phone with a smile on her face. In fact, her appetite was back as well. She’d have a snack, then go upstairs and paint some more, she decided. Or perhaps she should spend some time sifting through her wardrobe, searching for something suitable to wear for the gala.
Which made her wonder what she could get for Merren to wear. A university student, Merren likely wouldn’t have anything suitable for a formal event. Bianca’s brow creased as she puzzled over the question. Maybe Macy would have something Merren could borrow. She’d ask when she got her on the phone, she decided. Macy was married with a couple of grown kids, but Bianca had seen her in more than one outfit that would look smashing on Merren. They’d find her something gorgeous to wear between them both.
Bianca reached for the telephone again, putting her fingers to the buttons and punching in her agent’s number. She might as well strike while the iron was hot, she guessed. She certainly had a lot to catch Macy up on.
Merren would be proud of her, she decided. Making plans to get back out in the world. The thought made her smile.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Merren knocked on Bianca’s door with her elbow, her hands full with coffees and cinnamon buns from her favourite place out at St. Clair. The scent of sugar and caffeine was making her mouth water.
Merren grinned as the door opened. ‘I got us the good stuff,’ she said, holding up her hands.
‘Smells delicious,’ a strange voice answered, and Merren found herself looking into an unknown face as well.
‘Hello,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Is Bianca in?’
The woman nodded, her eyes sharp and assessing.
‘You must be Bianca’s model.’
Merren drew back a little at the term. ‘Not so much model as friend,’ she corrected.
The woman shrugged. ‘She’s showed me her paintings. Even mostly blind, she’s good enough that I can recognise you – even with your clothes on.’
Merren stared at the stranger for a moment. ‘Yes, she’s very good, even vision-impaired. Who are you?’
‘I’m Bianca’s agent,’ the woman said, still blocking the doorway. ‘It’s my job to look after her best interests.’
The way she said that had Merren narrowing her eyes. ‘Well, I’m sure you do that very well. May I come in? Bianca’s coffee is going cold.’
Finally, the woman stepped back, and Merren squeezed past, trying not to roll her eyes at the woman marking her territory like a male dog. Merren was not interested in any sort of pissing contest.
‘Bianca,’ she called out.
‘She’s upstairs,’ the unnamed woman said. ‘Trying on dresses for Friday’s gala.’ She sniffed. ‘I’ve been asked to lend you something suitable to wear, since you’re going as well.’
That was the first Merren had heard about needing to borrow clothes. She turned in the dim entranceway and looked the woman over.
‘What did you say your name was?’ she asked.
The woman shrugged. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Well then, perhaps you could?’
A sniff, and Merren wondered what the older woman could possibly have against her, considering they’d never met before.
‘Macy Joy,’ she said. ‘Bianca’s agent.’
Merren nodded. ‘Merren Hardy,’ she said. ‘Bianca’s model, friend, and lover. Pleased to meet you.’ She hadn’t meant to spill those particular beans, but come on, even she had her limits. Shaking her head, she turned and took the stairs two at a time.
‘Wow,’ she breathed, arriving at the door of Bianca’s bedroom and stopping dead at the sight, coffee and buns forgotten.
Bianca swung around, smoothing her hands down over the forest-green silk top that hugged her figure in a manner that had the blood roaring between Merren’s ears. Especially when her eyes also took in the trousers that sat slim over her small hips and flared in a wide-legged drape of rich black fabric.
‘Do you like it?’ Bianca asked, rare spots of colour blooming high on her cheeks. ‘Macy brought them around for me to try on.’ She looked down at herself, turning her head this way and that, as though trying to see the fine clothes, so different to her usual painting smock. ‘She brought a couple others from the shop for me to try on too, but –’
‘Wear this one,’ Merren said impetuously. ‘You look absolutely stunning. Like some sort of goddess.’ The admiration was positively oozing from her lips, but she didn’t care. Bianca was beautiful. She put the coffee and bag of buns down carefully and crossed the floor to Bianca.
‘You wear that to the gala,’ she said, putting her hands on Bianca’s shoulders and shaking her head in dazed pleasure, ‘and my main job of the night will be fighting off every man and woman who wants to go home with you.’
‘Definitely that good,’ Merren confirmed.
‘Shall I show you the others?’
Merren shook her head. ‘Forget the others. You couldn’t possibly look any more gorgeous than you do right now.’ She slid a hand down the curve of Bianca’s body and sighed happily.
‘I brought some things for you to try on too,’ Macy said from the doorway behind them, and Merren dropped her hand from Bianca’s hip, then cursed herself for feeling guilty.
‘They’re not new, though. I didn’t want to push our limits at the store. After all, they don’t know you, seeing as you’re just a model.’
Merren opened her mouth to ask the woman if she was always so rude, but closed it again, swallowing down the words. The last thing Bianca needed was the two of them at loggerheads. This was going to be hard enough as it was.
She turned and smiled instead. ‘I don’t think I’ll need them,’ she said. ‘But thank you so much for thinking of me.’
Behind her, Bianca clutched suddenly at her. ‘But Merren,’ she said, ‘it’s a formal event. I mean, look at me – this is beautiful!’
Merren did turn and look at her, and it was a lovely sight. But she still shook her head. ‘I’m sure I can come up with something that will do you proud. You don’t have to worry – especially as I now see the standard required.’ She turned back to Macy and bared her teeth in a wide, forced smile.
Macy shrugged. ‘Let the girl dress herself, Bianca,’ she said. ‘I only brought around a couple jackets anyway, and she’s smaller than you said she was.’
‘So, moving on,’ Merren said, before anyone could argue any further. ‘I’ve got coffee and cinnamon buns. How about we have those before they grow cold, and you can fill me in on what else we’re doing today?’
‘Don’t mind if I do, then,’ Macy said, and helped herself to one of the coffees on the dresser. She plucked a cinnamon bun from the bag too, raised her eyebrows at Merren and left the room with a snarling smile.
‘I don’t think Macy likes me,’ Merren said, and laughed. ‘What on earth have you been telling her about me?’
Bianca blinked, then peeled off the green top that had somehow turned the colour of her eyes from grey to the colour of deep, wide oceans.
‘I haven’t told her anything about you,’ she said. ‘Macy’s just being protective.’
‘Uh huh. Kind of like a Rottweiler is protective; I get it.’
Bianca was groping around the bed for something. Merren picked up a shirt and put it into her hands. ‘In all fairness to her,’ Bianca said, ‘I did give her an awful lot to take in last night when I spoke to her.’ She slipped the shirt on and did up a couple buttons before searching for the zip on the side of the trousers and sliding them off into a puddle of lush fabric on the floor. Merren almost lost track of their conversation. Watching Bianca dress and undress was something she thought she’d likely never tire of.
‘She was a bit mad at me for not telling her sooner. She wants to have been able to help me.’
‘Well, that explains the coffee then, I suppose,’ Merren said.
Bianca was pulling on jeans. ‘What?’
Of course, she hadn’t seen Macy take the coffee, and Merren shook her head. It didn’t matter.
‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘Nothing important. So, what were you wanting me to do with you today?’ The question, phrased that way, made her grin. ‘I am at your pleasure,’ she added, happy that Bianca’s sudden headache the day before hadn’t been anything more than that.
Which reminded her of the conference. Somewhere in the course of the day, Merren knew she was going to have to fit that announcement in, was going to have to tell Bianca that she wouldn’t be around for a few days. Five or so. She winced. Seven, to be exact.
Bianca tugged on her arm, planted a kiss on Merren’s cheek. ‘Earth to Merren,’ she said. ‘Did you hear me?’
‘Nope,’ Merren said. ‘I was wool-gathering, thinking about something I need to talk to you about.’
Bianca’s eyebrows rose. ‘Nothing bad, I hope?’
‘Oh no.’ Merren shook her head, seeing Bianca peering at her sideways. ‘Nothing too bad at all.’
Bianca nodded. ‘Good, because right now I have more on my plate than I know what to do with!’ She sidled up closer to Merren and linked an arm around Merren’s waist, leaning against her for a moment in a way that had Merren’s heart almost bursting with affection.
‘I’m kind of excited about the gala,’ Bianca continued. ‘Terrified as well, but excited. I’m not really built for hiding out at home.’
‘Although no one’s going to blame you for taking the time to adjust to things,’ Merren hastened to say. She leaned over and kissed Bianca on the cheek, breathing in the scent of shampoo and moisturiser. It smelt good.
‘No, I guess not,’ Bianca said. ‘But I feel bad about not telling Macy now.’
Merren thought that had probably been the right decision, but she didn’t say anything. Macy did not strike her as a gentle or trustworthy soul.
‘Anyway darling,’ Bianca said, surprising Merren with the endearment. ‘Because I feel terribly guilty about not telling Macy what was going on, I gave in when she insisted on taking me around and about today.’ Bianca moved, and took Merren’s hand, giving her a beseeching look. ‘Instead of you.’ She squeezed Merren’s fingers. ‘I’m sorry, please say you’ll forgive me. I’m sure it wasn’t going to be really interesting dragging me to the hair salon and such anyway.’
Disappointment wormed itself inside Merren and nested in the pit of her belly. But she shook her head.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’m a bit let down – I won’t pretend not to be. I love spending time with you, no matter what we’re doing.’ She grinned, knowing the smile would show in her voice. ‘And I rather fancied sitting beside you getting a pedicure. Would have been fun.’
Bianca shook her head, smiling as well. ‘Now you’re just teasing.’
Merren laughed. ‘Maybe just a little, because I probably have to draw the line at people touching the little piggies, but I could have handled a manicure, I’m sure.’
Bianca leaned closer again and gave her another kiss. ‘Next time,’ she said. ‘I promise.’ She straightened. ‘Are you really going to be able to find something to wear to the gala?’
‘You betcha,’ Merren said, knowing just whose wardrobe to raid. ‘I won’t put you to shame, don’t you worry.’
Bianca shook her head. ‘I know that!’ She dropped Merren’s hands and stretched, lithe as a cat. ‘Macy’s talking about getting a limo or something ridiculous for tomorrow, so can you come around here to get ready?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Macy also said you should meet us there, but I put a stop to that. She’s a bit bossy like that.’
Bossy indeed. ‘I’m glad you didn’t agree to that,’ Merren said. ‘I think that would have kinda hurt the old feelings.’
‘Hmm. I wouldn’t want that,’ Bianca said. ‘Not when you’ve been such an angel.’
‘Nah.’ Merren shook her head. ‘I’ve just been me, is all. Now, is there anything you want me to do or get for you before tomorrow?’
Bianca pursed her lips. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Just show up here tomorrow all ready to be bright and shiny.’ She smiled. ‘In the meantime, I think I miss you already.’
Merren gave her a hug, wishing she could hang on to the warm, sweet body for longer. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spend the day painting and appreciating the model instead?’
Bianca laughed and pushed Merren away. ‘That’s very tempting,’ she said. ‘But unfortunately I don’t think your many skills extend to cutting hair.’ She tugged her fingers through the unruly curls on her head. ‘And I need to get this mop seen to.’
Merren sighed. ‘You’re right. I can do a lot, but I can’t do that.’
There was an impatient shout from downstairs and Merren decided it was time to take her leave
. She fetched the remaining cup of coffee and pressed it into Bianca’s hand.
‘For you,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Then she left, biting her tongue, because she’d almost said something entirely different.
Not I’ll see you tomorrow, but I love you.
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘Gran,’ Merren said, sitting down at the outdoor table and stretching out her legs. ‘You’re just the woman I wanted to see.’
Naomi raised one arched eyebrow and managed simultaneously to narrow her eyes. ‘What have I done now?’ she asked.
Merren gave her a suspicious look in return. ‘I don’t know. What have you done now?’
‘Nothing, I’m sure,’ Naomi said, relaxing into a grin. ‘What do you need?’
‘Where’s Mum?’ Merren asked, suddenly realising that while the kitchen door was open, there was no aroma of fresh baking wafting out to tempt her.
‘Your mother’s out on a date.’
Merren blinked. ‘What?’
‘A date. With a perfectly nice gentleman, although he’s a bit hairy for my taste. I always liked ‘em clean-shaven, myself.’
‘She’s on a date? I didn’t know she was even interested in dating.’ Merren ignored her grandmother’s preferences as to facial hair. She’d at least heard that one before.
‘Indeed, Merren,’ Naomi said, leaning back in her chair and wafting the still, heavy air with a bright red and turquoise oriental fan. ‘That would be because you never gave it any thought, I’ll warrant.’
Merren digested that comment and shook her head. ‘No, I guess not. I always thought she was happy pottering around in the kitchen.’
The fan snapped closed and turned into a lethal-looking thing pointed straight at Merren.
‘Merren Hardy,’ her grandmother said. ‘Do you hear yourself?’
‘Umm, I guess not,’ Merren said.
‘You most certainly do not,’ Naomi scolded. ‘For starters, your mother does not potter about the kitchen. She runs a very successful home-based online business. Which is something you know very well, if you did not currently have your head stuck well up your arse.’ She tapped the fan against a hand for emphasis, then waggled it in Merren’s face again. ‘Secondly, of course your mother is going to go out for lunch with a handsome man when he shows interest in her. She is not dead, you know. She is a warm and loving woman, with much to commend her.’