Inside whatever place demons hole up when they possess someone, Eleanor offered a smug ‘I told you so’.
Jill couldn’t remember a time when Vivie hadn’t tried to change her into a darker, taller, more rounded version of her own model-perfect self. She had cajoled and browbeaten her into having free make-overs at every cosmetic counter in every department store in the Greater London area. For Jill’s last birthday, she had even given her a session with a wardrobe consultant, but to no avail. And now here they sat with Vivie looking on in admiration. What a difference a demon makes.
‘I love the boots by the way,’ Vivie said.
Jill had had another shower and was dressed in tight black jeans and a revealing vest just a few shades darker than the boots, a vest she only wore in the privacy of her flat. Until now. ‘I still haven’t paid for them,’ she said with a quirk of a smile.
‘You minx.’ Vivie giggled. ‘I just can’t imagine you doing the nasty with Finn in his shoe store. That’s so not you, Jilly.’
She had no idea, Jill thought.
Inside her head, Eleanor refused to take all the credit. After all, she reminded Jill, she hadn’t actually been in residence for any of the foreplay in Kinky Boots.
They were on their second glass of wine, sitting on the high chairs at a chunky wooden table across from the bar. Vivie leaned closer. ‘I’m not the only one totally awed by your very sexy self,’ she said. ‘You seem to be drawing the attention of that bloke in the corner.’ Vivie gave a not-so-discreet sideways glance. ‘The big one that looks like he could crush a lorry with one hand.’ She gave him the once-over. ‘Very nice. I like big men, I but definitely wouldn’t want him on top.’
Jill felt her shoulders tighten. She didn’t even have to look. Inside her head, Eleanor said. ‘It’s Meinrad all right. It must be his turn to keep an eye on us.’
Meinrad was making no effort to be stealthy. He was in his usual uniform of low-rider jeans and a black T-shirt that looked like it had been painted across his muscular chest. She thought about her dream, about Finn and Eleanor and the possibility of the big man ploughing her. ‘On top’s not the only way.’ The words slipped out before she could stop them, and Vivie nearly sprayed her mouthful of wine across the table.
‘Jill Hart, you naughty, naughty girl.’ She leaned in conspiratorially close. ‘Do you know him?’
‘We’ve met, yes. He also works at Kinky Boots.’
‘Fucking hell,’ Vivie whispered, ‘I’m shopping at the wrong shoe store.’ She scooted her chair closer to Jill’s, then shot Meinrad a very blatant stare. ‘What do you reckon? Is he … you know … big all over?’
‘Oh, he’s big all right.’ Jill wondered if Eleanor had suddenly turned off the internal editor. But in her mind’s eye Eleanor raised innocent hands, refusing to take the blame.
Before Vivie could interrogate her further, Jill motioned Meinrad over. The look of embarrassment at being caught in the act was fleeting, or maybe only imagined. Meinrad wasn’t known for great displays of emotion. But it still gave Jill a tingle of satisfaction forcing him to come clean. Before he could sit down, she said, ‘Finn sent you.’ It wasn’t a question.
He nodded and, without so much as a greeting, took the chair next to her, but not before she had the chance to notice he was at half-mast. The little gasp that escaped Vivie’s lips told her she had noticed too. Jill wondered if he was always at half-mast and rising. ‘You were talking about me,’ he said, setting his lime and soda on the table.
‘Vivie couldn’t help noticing you staring at me, and the conversation went from there.’ Jill said. ‘She wondered if your cock was proportional. I said that it was.’ Vivie blushed hard and mumbled something to her that she suspected wasn’t very nice. Jill’s intention had been to put Meinrad in his place, but she wondered if her wicked sense of satisfaction at turning the tables and embarrassing her friend as well was hers or Eleanor’s.
Vivie forced a smile in Meinrad’s direction.
Meinrad gave a peripheral glance at his lap and shrugged. For all his reaction she might have just told him that she liked his shirt.
‘So,’ Vivie said, trying to put the conversation back on track. ‘You know Jill through Kinky Boots.’
‘You could say that, I suppose,’ Meinrad said, playing with the straw in his drink. ‘I tied her up over there last night.’
Jill kicked him under the table, but he didn’t seem to notice.
Vivie giggled nervously. ‘For what? Stealing the boots?’