Venezia Immortale {Domenico Michele}

balla con me

"Oh, Agatha you've outdone yourself," Georgina exclaimed, "it's exquisite,"

She stood before a mirror in the bedroom of her flat, admiring the floor length gown that had arrived from Australia in record time with the aid of International Priority shipping. Smooth silk material draped against her figure expertly, and the daemon's keen eye for patterns recognized it as a charmeuse weave design.

"It's made with Mulberry silk I picked up on my last trip to India," Agatha Wilson explained from the cellphone that was propped against the bureau mirror. The woman's dark curls took up the majority of the screen, bouncing slightly while she talked, as the pair carried out their facetime conversation.

"I thought Indigo would contrast well with your skin tone, and the asymmetrical sleeves should evoke a suitably contemporary look that compliments the exhibition," she continued proudly.

Georgina performed an experimental twirl and gasped as a shocking bubblegum pink inlay was revealed between the layers of fabric that cascaded below her waist.

"The pink was just for fun," the designer quipped, pleased with her client's reaction.

"You are a lifesaver, Agatha, I really can't thank you enough,"

"Don't mention it, Gina, I'm happy to help," she replied, "though I would have liked to join you in Venice for the event. Nathaniel knows several of the artists whose work will be featured,"

Georgina shook her head, "You say that, but ten minutes in this heat would undoubtedly make you regret ever leaving the Southern Hemisphere,"

The daemon chuckled, "I suspect you're right,"

Agatha flipped the perspective on her phone, allowing Georgina to catch a glimpse of the white sand beach and vast Pacific Ocean stretching as far as one could discern.

"We're currently enjoying a lovely winter afternoon here,"

Georgina waved to Sarah Bishop, Agatha's partner, who was walking beside her along the shore. The red-haired witch smiled brightly and sent a thumbs-up to the camera.

Their connection was suddenly interrupted and Domenico's name flashed on-screen.

"So sorry, but I've got another call," she apologized, "let's chat again soon?"

"Absolutely, and if anyone asks who designed your dress?"

"I'll send them to you," Georgina promised as Australia disappeared from view.

Taking a breath, the daemon snatched up her cell phone and eagerly accepted the call. Her right hand fluttered nervously, toying with the folds of the dress, as she tried to suppress the swell of longing that rose in her chest.

Georgina had yet to confirm whether the vampire would be attending the exhibition alongside her, but she was grateful that Domenico preferred normal phone conversations so her outfit could remain a secret for the time being.

"You've reached the all-knowing oracle of the Scottish isles. What is it you desire?"

Domenico's chuckle brought a pleased smile to Georgina's flushed face.

"A great many things, but I have no need of divine assistance,"

"Oh? Then perhaps you require something else of me,"

"Patience," was his reply, "I have to leave the city, a day or two at most,"

In the background, a boat's engine could be heard idling amid the rhythmic lapping of water.

"Can you manage on your own?"

"I suppose," Georgina frowned, a trace of petulance creeping into her tone, "so long as you're prepared to compensate me for lost time when you return,"