It was a simple procedure. Release the painting from its frame, roll it carefully in the lambswool blanket she had with her, pop it in the long tube resting by her feet.
Nicole had done this countless times, to the point where it was becoming boring, to the point where she almost wanted to etch her name on one of the paintings, just to say her hands had been there. Like Banksy. Except, having 'Haught' scrawled on a multi-million dollar piece of art would clearly devalue it, deciding she preferred money over being remembered, opting not to vandalise the latest painting she was stealing.
Waverly too was bored. She had got up late, with little idea what to do with herself now she wasn't busy. Her last job at a major advertising agency had ended on a sour note, she inadvertently sending a host of top clients a rather explicit video. Correction, very explicit. She meant to circulate it only to a couple of people in the office she felt sure would appreciate the artistic overtures of said video. That action went spectacularly wrong, resulting in her being summoned by the Director to his office to explain why several clients were threatening to close their accounts after viewing the incriminating evidence. In her defence, she explained, it was only a few clients she had accidentally sent it to, which is how Waverly found herself currently unemployed.
She had spent most days since her summary dismissal rattling around a sprawling London apartment which wasn't hers. It belonged to her current boyfriend, James Hardy, aka Champ, an investment banker in the City. Her friends joked she was now banging a banker, the type spelled with a silent 'W'. She got the joke. Great apartments, such as the one she currently resided in, came at a price and Waverly was comfortable with that cost, even if it meant being the butt of her friend's jokes.
Champ's apartment was top spec. Located in London's prestigious Chelsea enclave, it came with unobstructed views to die for over the River Thames. It also came with a 'fuck off' price tag, if anyone was asking. Large enough to accommodate the entire Arsenal football team in an after-game party, which was Champ's wet dream, he had been desperate to get a few players to come to one of his 'infamous' parties. They were always busy, although the occasional minor celebrity graced his parties if they had nothing better to do.
The balcony was spacious, perfect for sunbathing, Waverly parking herself on a lounger mid-morning, with nothing better to do than let her body absorb the summer sunshine. She had been working out, her abs were to die for, wearing a bikini was not a chore at her age. Wearing both parts was, however, which meant she only had the bottom part on when someone from the next apartment made their introductions.
Her arms above her head, letting the rays hit pretty much all of her body, Waverly was accepting her firing from her last job with the grace that comes with youth, and a flippant attitude she would find another job in due course. This was her kick back time, her body toned, beautifully tanned, angelic if you had to put a word on it. She hadn't sensed someone looking at her.
It was only when she opened her eyes to check the time on her phone she saw someone leaning on the glass wall between the two apartments gazing at her body. She sat up, looking for her T-shirt, realising she had left it on a seat in the lounge. Her hands went to her exposed breasts, pointless, given the person staring at her had seen everything anyway.
"Great view."
Waverly immediately heard the American accent. A tall, beautiful, red-haired woman, slightly older than her, was staring at her body in appreciation. It didn't make her feel uncomfortable. She was used to people appreciating her body. She knew she was good looking and had a body many envied. Getting your tits out when sunbathing was de rigueur on all the girls' holidays she had been on.
"It is. I heard the removal men. Have you just moved in?"
"Yes. Short let, on business. You?"
"Oh, I live here with my boyfriend. You're American."
"Well spotted. We Americans get about."
There was a silence. The pleasantries had exhausted themselves. Waverly would have been perfectly happy to talk to her new neighbour for the rest of the day, but sensed she didn't want to hang around. Nicole started to move away from the glass wall.
"I'm Waverly, although my friends call me Waves."
Nicole smiled. "Nice to meet you Waves. I'm Nicole."
Waverly couldn't place the feeling she had with her new neighbour. Intrigue, mystery, there was something about her making Waverly want to know more.
Champ was in late. A drinks party at a bar overran. Waverly had left his dinner in the oven. He entered the lounge, finding her asleep in front of the TV, a show he hadn't seen, a woman with long black hair pointing a glowing gun at someone. He went over and kissed her on the forehead startling her.
She opened her eyes, stretching out the position in which she had fallen asleep. "What time is it?"
"Gone 11pm. Sorry, darling. Got a bit carried away with the lads. Any food?"
"Oven. Was Joe there?"
"Yep. He said hello. We'll have to get a foursome arranged."
Joe was a work colleague of Champ's who had started going out with Waverly's friend Chrissy. They were a cute couple. Joe was smitten, which Chrissy was only too happy to use to her advantage. She was smitten too, but it was more fun having the boy do all the work.
Champ retrieved his lukewarm dinner, sitting at the dining table to eat.
"Why don't you go to bed? I'll be in after I finish this."
"We have a new neighbour. American woman."
"Really? That apartment has been empty for ages."
"Very good looking."
Waverly wondered why she had mentioned this to Champ. Nicole was, but that observation could have remained with her. She didn't want her boyfriend getting ideas.
It was just as hot the next day. Waverly decided she would look for a new job when it was less sunny. For now, she planned to work on her tan and enjoy the luxury of being a lady of leisure. Champ didn't mind. He quite liked the idea of someone being at home for him. She had just got comfortable on the lounger when she heard movement on Nicole's balcony. She opened her eyes, remembering this time to grab her T-shirt to put on.
"You don't have to on my account."
Nicole was looking out over the river, a mug in her hand. She wasn't looking directly at Waverly, but had obviously seen her topless again. Waverly considered leaving her top off, but thought better if she was going to strike up a conversation. She pulled her T-shirt on, which contoured her body perfectly.
She moved towards the glass wall separating the two apartments. Leaning over her balcony she mirrored Nicole's posture. She wondered why Nicole was around during the day if she was here on business. She seemed to be a lady of leisure too. Perhaps her business didn't involve being out during the day?
"What line of work are you in?"
"Sales. Mostly antiques."
"Sounds interesting. Is that why you're here in London?"
"Partly. I have a few things to arrange. Quite like London. It's my favourite city."
It sounded very exotic to Waverly. She guessed Nicole travelled with whatever sales job she had. Having a favourite city was the equivalent of her having a favourite club. Waverly had travelled, but only on holiday, never on business. A jet set lifestyle appealed, but she was tied to London for now.
"I do yoga at the local gym Wednesday mornings at 11am, if you're interested."
"I'm interested. They take non-members?"
"You can come as my guest. My membership includes a Plus One. It's a ten minute walk from here. I'll knock for you say 10.30am."
"It's a date. Listen, I have a few calls to make. See you tomorrow."
And with that Nicole went inside, leaving Waverly to contemplate her first outing with the woman next door.
YOU ARE READING
Steal My Heart (WAYHAUGHT)
FanfictionNicole moves into the apartment next door. Will her desire to possess beautiful things extend to Waverly? It was a simple procedure, release the painting from its frame, roll it carefully in the lambswool blanket, pop it in the tube. Nicole had done...