Nancy’s Theory of Style (26 page)

“I didn’t realize the costumes had so
much back story.”

“I’m writing my master’s thesis on the
politics of feminist identity and gender in popular performance.” She held out
her hand and said, “I’m Melanie, by the way.”

Nancy
shook hands and said, “Nice to meet you.
I’m
Nancy
.”

“
Nancy
!”
Melanie shook her head, the plumes on her hat fluttering.

“What?”

“Sorry, the ex-boyfriend works for
someone named
Nancy
.
He said she was crazy, but I suspected that something was going on.” She
shrugged. “Then he says he’s in love with her and dumps me.”

“Ouch. You must meet a lot of men
though.”

Melanie nodded. “I do and that’s how I
knew this one was special. He’s a reporter, an unemployed reporter like the
rest of them, and he and Nancy Fancy were collaborating on some hush-hush
research project.”

“That can’t be a real name,”
Nancy
said, laughing.

“I think it was just his little nickname
for her, but I did know a real Candace ‘Candy’ Caine, c-a-i-n-e.”

“I know Binky Winkles and a gay man
whose last name is Bottomsley,”
Nancy
said.

“That guy is named Whiteside,” Melanie
said, indicating Bailey. “I saw you with him. He’s been at some of the business
gigs I do, but he always leaves before anything gets out of control. A careful
type.”

Nancy
pulled a Froth business card out of her
clutch. “I plan events and often hire performers. I’m swamped right now, but call
me in a month and we can talk.”

Melanie took the card and tucked it in
her cleavage. “Nancy Carrington-Chambers. Now that’s fancy. Thanks. I’ll be in
touch.” She yawned. “Sorry. I’m usually in bed by one and it’s already
half-past.”

“That late? I’ve got to get home.”

Nancy
returned to Bailey’s table and told her
new acquaintances, “I really, really have to go. Bye, bye!”

Bailey was saying, “But…” as she blew
kisses and exchanged promises to see everyone soon.

He held out her jacket for her and she
rushed out the doors and into the night.
Nancy
breathed in the refreshingly cold night air, smelling those city scents she
loved: the salty breeze from the waterfront, faint garlicky food aromas from
the closed Italian and Chinese restaurants, yeasty baking bread, and the rich
bitter scent of roasting coffee beans.

Nancy
liked the sound of her heels clicking
on the sidewalk, the darkened storefronts, a burst of laughter in the distance.
She felt free and she wished she could stay out all night.

Bailey slipped his arm through hers. “You
are always rushing away from me.”

“You seem to think everything is about
you, Bailey.”

They had arrived at his car and he
stopped and turned to her. “It’s just that I thought we connected tonight.”

“Bailey, I’m sure you connect with a lot
of girls.”

“No, I date a lot of girls.”

On the short drive home, he talked
casually about the people they’d seen during the evening. He pulled into the
driveway of her building and said, “How is Binky Winkles doing?”

“She’s as scintillating as ever.”

“I always like seeing her. She’s such an
icon.”

“We’re honored to have her in the
building.”

Bailey got out of the car, went around,
and opened car door for her. They walked to the front entrance of Château
Winkles. “Thank you for going out with me,” he said. “When can I see you
again?”

She looked up at him, very much aware of
his appeal. It wasn’t just his looks, but his confidence and ease. She wondered
what he was like in bed. “I really am busy, Bailey, but call and I’ll check my
schedule.”

“I’ve had a crush on you forever, you
know.”

“I didn’t,” she said and then remembered
small gestures and looks that he’d given her when they were out with Todd and
other friends.

“I didn’t want to seem obvious since I
felt pretty pathetic and hopeless, lusting after my bro’s girl,” he said. “Goodnight,
Nancy
.”

He put his hands at her waist and leaned
in to kiss her. She turned her head so that his lips landed on her cheek. She
again smelled the harsh sport cologne.

“Goodnight, Bailey.”

Once inside the lobby,
Nancy
took off her shoes and walked quietly
upstairs. She felt exhilarated. She felt sexy and pretty and young again.

She opened her apartment door and peered
into the living room, but it was empty. She looked into the bedroom and,
because the closet door was open and the closet light was on, she could see
Derek asleep in a t-shirt and jeans atop the matelasse coverlet on the bed, a
blanket partially covering him.

She tiptoed to the closet and saw
Eugenia sleeping on her side, her fingers gripping the terry cloth cape.

Nancy
left the closet door a little ajar, and
then turned toward the room. Derek’s jacket and shirt were carefully draped on
the back of a chair and his shoes on the floor, neatly aligned. Should she wake
him so he could go home? But it was so late.

He was so beautiful with his dark hair
falling over his forehead, his features more stark and masculine in the shadows.
Nancy
slipped
off her dress and slid under the covers.

Derek shifted toward her and his arm
reached out and around her. She reached to him, too, incapable of resisting the
urge to touch the fine prima cotton of his shirt and feeling the firm flesh
beneath.

When she was with Derek, she didn’t have
to be anyone else, or be careful about what she said or did, or wonder what he
wanted from her.
Nancy
was filled with appreciation and perhaps, too, the mix of drinks and the
excitement of the night.

So when Derek opened his eyes and gazed
at her dreamily, she gazed back. And when he pulled her to him, she reached for
him. And when he put his mouth on hers, she opened her lips. And when his hands
pushed away the blankets between them and ran down her back to her hips, she
moved her bare leg over his.

And when he said, “Oh, Mrs.
Carrington-Chambers,” she said, “Oh, Derek.”

He pulled her atop him and his kisses
were enthusiastic, and
Nancy
felt a rush of affection and pleasure that she’d never felt when Todd’s rough
mouth clamped on her or his big meaty hands groped her.

The scent of Derek, his taste, the way
he felt, was intoxicating.

Derek stopped kissing her. She could
feel his chest rising and falling beneath her. He said, “I don’t want to wake
her.”

Nancy
raked her fingers through his hair. “The
laundry room.”

She got up and walked on tip-toe there. He
was close behind. He shut the door and then he pulled off his t-shirt, exposing
his muscled torso. She lifted off her mini cami, a little shyly, relieved that
he wasn’t in any position to compare her breasts to another woman’s.

He explored her body with a novice’s
wonder, and she gasped with pleasure at his beginner’s luck in finding her most
sensitive places.

She impatiently unbuttoned and unzipped
his jeans, stroking him and making him groan. Although she didn’t want to think
about anything or anyone else, she said, “Will Prescott mind?”

“You’re a woman, so it doesn’t count as
a shag. What about your husband?”

“You’re gay, so it doesn’t count.” She
ignored the logical inconsistencies of this reasoning and admired his slim-fit,
black cotton oxford boxers. They were more perfect than she had imagined. Then
she pulled them down and admired other admirable things about him.

Chapter 14: Seek Hallmarks of Quality

The next morning,
Nancy
awoke to someone prodding her arm. “Let
me sleep a little longer, hon. Then you can do anything you want with me.”

“Can we go to the park?”

Nancy
opened her eyes to see Eugenia standing
by the bed, already dressed and wearing her new cape. “Where’s Derek?”

“Making a cappuccino for me. We ate
Count Chocula.”

“You’re too young to drink coffee. You
can have steamed milk. Go back to the kitchen and tell Derek that I’ll be there
after my shower.”

“Then can we go to the park?”

“Later, but only because it’s a special
occasion.”

When Eugenia trotted off,
Nancy
scrambled for
clothes. She saw Derek’s jacket still on the chair. His wallet, keys, and phone
were on the seat of the chair. It wasn’t the sleek black wallet she’d seen
before. It was worn brown leather with frayed edges. She picked it up and then
thought a lady does not snoop.

She showered and dressed in a short
black-and-white print dress, a turquoise cashmere sweater, and black flats. As
she put on mascara, the diamonds of her wedding rings glinted. She pulled them
off, thought a moment, and put them back on. She was still married.

Then she went to the kitchen, where
Derek was in his t-shirt and jeans, looking very sexy. It was too bad he
was…Derek. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but Eugenia was watching, so
she said, “Good morning, Derek.”

He handed her a mug and said, “How are
you feeling this morning, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers?”

“Remarkably invigorated,” she said. “You?”

“Fabulous,” he said, that smirk playing
on his lips and making him look rakish and different.

Eugenia was sitting at the kitchen table
blowing bubbles into her milk with a straw.

“Eugenia, do not play with your food,”
Nancy
said. “If you are
finished, put the cup on the counter.”

“Derek, do you live with us now?”
Eugenia asked, then blew more bubbles into her milk.

Nancy
exchanged a look with her assistant,
and she said, “Derek does not live here. He has his own place. He had to stay
late to watch you. Now if you’re a good girl and spend some quiet time looking
at your fashion magazines, I’ll make another cape for you later.”

“Okay,” Eugenia said. She left her cup
among the milk splatters on the table and got off the stool. “Derek, if you
live here, you can share the little room with me and we can draw more stories.”

“That’s very generous of you, Eugenia. As
your Aunt Nanny said, I already have a place to live.”

“Don’t you like us?”

He grinned and said, “I like you very
much. But this apartment is too small for all of us.”

She looked at the two adults. “No, it’s
not.”

Nancy
said, “Eugenia, please do as you’re
told.”

Eugenia scrunched up her face and said,
“Huh!” and stomped off.

“Did you see that?”
Nancy
asked. “She gave me attitude!”

“I saw.” He went to
Nancy
and put his arm around her waist. “I
like you this way, not so done up.”

She looked into his l’heure bleue eyes. “People
expect me to look pulled-together. Am I the first woman you’ve been with?”

“You were tops. What now?”

Nancy
got scared that he was going to tell
her he didn’t want to see her again. “I don’t want you to do anything that you
don’t enjoy.”

“Did it seem as if I wasn’t enjoying
myself?” His hands dropped lower onto her hips. “I assure you, I enjoyed myself
more than I ever thought I could.”

She laughed, and then thought of the
complications. “So long as we remember that this is an extension of our
friendship. After all, you have
Prescott
and I’m married.”

 
“My relationship with
Prescott
is really just a friendship at this
point. It’s an important friendship, but there’s no…we don’t have a physical
relationship.”

“You don’t need to explain.”
Nancy
wondered if he
would ever tell her about the mysterious Mel, or if there even was a Mel.

“
Prescott
wouldn’t understand, so…”

“Gossip would hurt me, too. It will be
our secret, something we can enjoy privately, because I’m married.”

“And I’m gay.” His hand reached down to
her leg and wandered under the hem of her dress. He began stroking her thigh in
a way that made her want him right then and there. “Yet I fancy you.”