Gold, Fire & Refinement

Chapter Fourteen

"People always overdo the matter when they attempt deception." ~Charles Dudley Warner

Friday morning, Zarah placed all the clothes she brought on the bed in front of her, then shook her head. "I don't have a single thing to wear," she said, talking to herself. With one hand on her hip, with the other, she pointed at each item of clothing. "Two dresses, some jeans, three shirts, a sweater, two pairs of black pants, some leggings, and a pair of white Capri pants. What was I thinking? What the heck is wrong with me?" She hurried over to a full-length mirror next to an antique armoire. It was part of the luxurious and elegant décor of the spacious upstairs guest bedroom she was assigned. She twirled around, first one way then the other. Biting her lip, she stared at her reflection, scrutinizing the dress she had on. It was a short, body-hugging black and white sheath dress with a houndstooth pattern. It had a round neckline—which she thought was good because it wasn't too revealing. The sleeves were three-quarter length to her elbows, and it was cool outside. So that was good too. She thought about adding her pink cashmere sweater—not to complete the outfit but to hide her nipples if they decided to stand at full attention due to the weather. Pulling the polyester-spandex dress close to her chest while looking in the mirror, she decided the houndstooth pattern would hide any 'nipple protrusion' that might occur. She bit her bottom lip, thinking, "Is it too short? Too tight? Too sexy?"

Checking out her shoes, she felt good about her choice in footwear, thanks to the advice she'd gotten from her best friend. An hour earlier she'd awakened Yvette, who was used to serving as her "fashion consultant." She asked, "Which would be better, my Mary Jane clogs or my patent-leather regular clogs?" After her friend told her what part of her anatomy she could kiss for waking her up so early, Yvette said she should wear the shoes that hurt the least considering the seven stitches in her left foot.

Ignoring Yvette's foul mood, she said, "That's why I'm choosing from two pairs of clogs, instead of heels. Now, shut up and help me choose the right clogs." Her best friend let out a loud sigh, told her both were fine, all things considered, and then hung up on her.

The Mary Janes. Good choice. Less casual, more refined, she thought. Turning first one foot then the other, as she stared at her legs and feet in the mirror, a knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Harvey poked his head inside.

"I figured you were up here worrying about what to wear," he said. "Came up to help."

"She up yet?" He gave her a brief "good morning" kiss.

"Oh yeah. Up and in the kitchen helping the cooks finish breakfast." He pulled her to him for another kiss. "I told you how she likes things done ... a certain way. That means she's down there getting in the way of the people she pays to do things for her."

"Great. She's hard to please in every possible way. She'll probably hate this dress!"

"What's wrong with that dress? You look terrific in that dress."

"That's what's wrong with it. It's one of your favorites and that's why I brought it. But now,"

"Now you're worried because I like it."

"You do like to look at my legs, and my chest, and my butt, and,"

"True, but darling, trust me. If I thought something looked bad or inappropriate, I'd tell you."

She twirled around again and took another look. "So you really think it's okay?"

"It's not okay." He came closer to her. "It's perfect."

"Not too short? Or too sexy?"

"Neither. But, are you wearing this ... body? The one you have on now?" He pulled her to him, hugging her, his reflection smiling at hers. "Because ... well, this body is very sexy in everything you put on." He started caressing her shoulders with both hands. "So, unless you have another body in that suitcase, I'm afraid you're going to have to go downstairs looking sexy." After he moved his hands to her waist, she turned around and they started kissing.