Diva in Disguise Chapter 8

As I trotted towards my car on my borrowed heels, I thanked my stars that I had kept my purse with me. Some of its contents were essential of course, but it was also proving useful to cover some of my unwanted décolletage. There was just too much of me showing! The street and alleys around the bar were no longer deserted. I became all too aware that to be dressed like this in the broad light of day attracted notice. Illogically, the knowledge that all I had on underneath my dress was a pair of sheer pantyhose intensified my discomfort. It wasn’t as if anyone but me would know, but I couldn’t shake the belief that I was under the scrutiny of everyone I passed. I wanted somewhere to hide!

You might be forgiven for thinking that my experience as a model would have toughened my hide, but not so. Facing the camera was a breeze in comparison to being on public display. Once I was back at my car, I started to feel a little easier. I debated whether I ought to raise the soft top, but I knew that it took some time to do so, and I really wasn’t dressed for the necessary exertions. In the end I resolved to drive straight home. Though my upper half would be very much on public view my legs would be well enough concealed.

To begin with all went well. The streets downtown were busy at that time of day but I had expected no less. Everything was fine until I stopped at a red light, where the stares of passers-by once again reminded me how extremely conspicuously I was attired.

Things went from bad to worse! Before the light changed, I was dismayed to hear the sound of a large motorcycle behind me and sure enough, out of the corner of my eye I was treated to the sight of the machine ridden by, oh horrors, a traffic cop! The man pulled up right alongside me. Trying not to panic I looked straight ahead as calmly as I could. My one thought was not to make eye contact.

Help!

It made no difference. The patrolman blipped his siren and when I looked up, gesticulated towards the roadside with his index finger. Reluctantly I pulled over and switched off the engine. He did the same.

“That’s a pretty little automobile you got there, lady.”

I tried to smile.

“I can see from those out of state plates that you’re a ways from home. Dolled up real nice an’ all! Goin’ somewhere special?”

What ought I say to get me out of this predicament? My only option seemed to be to blurt out the truth, or some of it. “No, I’m on my way home. I’ve been to an interview for a job at a bar back there. I didn’t have time to change my clothes after it.” I hoped my explanation would satisfy his curiosity.

No such luck! Under the officer’s appraising stare, I became more and more uncomfortable. He considered me a while before responding. “That so? I believe you lady, but we have to check these things out."

The day might be bright and sunny but for me it was rapidly becoming gloomier. The cop dismounted and came over to lean against my door. A growing group of idlers stood at a short distance, watching with interest. I could only hope that none of those witnessing my discomfiture knew me.

“Let me see your papers, if you please.”

I was reasonably confident there would be nothing amiss there, and thankfully so it proved. The patrolman studied them a while then handed them back.

He seemed to be having difficulty making up his mind. “Now Miss Cartwright, don’t get me wrong. I like what I see.” His eye might have given me a sly wink. “But... there’s rules about the kind of thing a woman can wear in public and you’re awful close to the line. Where did you say you’d just come from?”

I hadn’t, but now gave him the name of the bar.

“Yes, I know the place.”

Hastily I added “I’m going straight home, honestly.”

“Well, I’d say that’s wise. It would be easy for anyone to get the wrong idea.” The man paused while he considered some more. He allowed his eyes to run all over me. Under that searching gaze I felt more exposed than ever. At last, he reached some kind of decision.

He heaved a sigh. “Hmm… Okay, Miss Cartwright, where are you staying?”

I gave him the address of my mother’s house.

“I don’t want to be too hard on a pretty girl like you, so I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll drop by that bar and check out your story. If it’s all cosher you won’t hear from me again, but otherwise you and I will be meeting again and soon, real soon. You can be on your way now.”
The cop returned to his motorcycle and sitting astride it proceeded to make some jottings in his notebook.

When he’d done, I started the engine and put the car into gear. Cautiously I edged out into the midday traffic. As I drove away I reflected that there was no way that I could have attracted more attention from all and sundry if I’d tried. Why did these things have to happen to me? In fairness I had to admit that at least the man hadn’t made me get out of the car. To stand in full view of such a crowd would have been so embarrassing that I might have died then and there on the spot! I fervently prayed that Adrian would still be around back at the bar, so he could verify my story. If I were very lucky then gossip about my brush with the law might go no farther than him, but I couldn’t count on it.

As I drove back to Mom’s house my head was filled with vain regrets. If only I’d been wearing my own clothes, none of this would have happened. If only Madeleine hadn’t turned up when she did, or if I had braved meeting her, things would have been different. It occurred to me that were my mother still around, she undoubtedly would have viewed my recent humiliation with glee. How often had she engineered a situation where I’d ended up decked out like a Christmas tree and put on public display? I could just imagine the smile of secret delight she would have been failing to hide if she could have heard what had occurred.

The worst consequence of the incident was that I now had pretty much no choice but to work at the bar, for the coming weekend at least. Before the policeman stopped me that had formed no part of my plan, trust me, but I would be a fool to risk him finding my explanation untrue.

When I got home, what I most desired was to become invisible. I didn’t know which of the neighbours might be watching me alight, so I pulled the two-seater up as close to the house as I could and made it to the door in record time. Fumbling with my keys seemed to take me an age, but at last I was inside and could breathe freely again.

After a morning like that I needed coffee more than anything else. I went through to the kitchen to set the percolator going. When the healing brew was ready I took the cup through to the lounge and collapsed onto the sofa. The events of the previous twenty-four hours wouldn’t stop circling around in my head. I sat there a prey to confusion. In the end I must have dozed off.

I don’t know how long I slept. It seemed like seconds but my cup of coffee was stone cold when I came to, so it must have been much longer than that. In the back of my mind was a sense that I’d missed something; something that had occurred to disturb my slumbers. I got up and took my cold coffee through to the kitchen to pour away and replace with a fresh cup. Crossing the hall on the way back to the lounge I saw that a folded piece of paper had been slid under the front door.

With a sigh and a muttered ‘What now?’ I set down my cup and went across to pick it up. Figuring that if my luck hadn’t changed for the better, the missive might be from that traffic cop, I hesitated to open it. Instinctively I first opened the door to see if anyone was waiting there, but the doorstep was empty, thankfully. Empty, that is, apart from the mislaid purse and… a spray of pretty flowers.

What? How?

I checked up and down the street. No-one was in sight.

I stooped to pick up the bouquet and grabbed my purse. As I stood there in wonderment, a vehicle down the street started its engine and drove away. Out of the tail of my eye I caught a glimpse of black pickup before it disappeared. It wasn’t one I recognised. I went inside and closed the door behind me. Remembering the note in my hand I put down my purse and the flowers. I opened the paper to read as follows: “Thinking of you, Ryan. XXX”.

My emotions were mixed. The guy apparently had feelings for me and had them bad. His admiration was flattering, but quite unwelcome. I would need to be careful not give him any encouragement if our paths crossed again. On top of everything my dominant thought was that if I’d known he had the wretched purse I would have been spared my recent visit to the bar to retrieve the thing. Nor would I feel compelled to return there this evening to face heaven knows what. If only! So many needless consequences.

To help clear my befuddled brain, there was one whose sympathy I knew I could count on. I would spend the next ten minutes on the telephone unloading all my angst onto Rachel. I had been thinking more and more that the decision for me to remain in this locale on my own had been an unfortunate one. If she now considered that I ought to come away, then I would do so immediately, extra travel and expense or no.

Merely to hear her voice was like balm for my frayed nerves. My dearest was dying to know how my evening with Karen had gone and most of all, curious as to how the unpredictable girl had behaved.

“So, was your ex-sweetheart friendly?”

“I don’t think she ever was my sweetheart, but yes, she was. Actually, she was a bit too friendly. I drank more than I should have and fell asleep back at her place so in the event I stayed over. I was so glad to get away from her this morning.”

“Oh, you know you can’t handle alcohol in any quantity. How did you let that happen?”

I explained how first Adrian and then Karen’s friends had kept pressing drinks on me. I went on to relate the events of the evening in detail. The only things I didn’t mention were how fiercely my old heartthrob had hit on me, nor how erotic images of the long-limbed girl kept recurring in my mind’s eye. I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her again, so it didn’t matter. Rachel seemed to view the whole escapade as an amusing adventure, though one thing she didn’t like was the way Karen had used me to ditch Ryan.

“Poor young man! Well at least he got to kiss you so that would console him for the way he was treated. I’d like to do that myself. I’m missing you terribly, you know. Fancy leaving you a bouquet. That was nice. Probably a first for you.”

It was. We didn’t have the money to spend on such things, but I resolved there and then to call ‘Say It With Flowers’ and treat my own lover in the same way.

“I’m missing you too. I so want you to be here.” I then posed the question uppermost in my mind. “Do you think I should come home now? I could return in a week or so.”

“Only if you can’t stand it any longer. I know it’s hard for you, but it would be good to do the photo shoot Pete has arranged. We could certainly use the money right now.”

“I guess.” I went on to mention that I’d been offered some bar work.

“Oh, that sounds good. And if you take that, it will help you get through these long evenings on your own.”

I mentioned how I had been pulled over that afternoon.

Rachel viewed the implications of the incident as I did. “That clinches it. Keep in mind that your explanation to that cop needs to hold up. You really don’t want to get the wrong side of the police.”

“The job is as a bar hostess, though. What does that entail?”

“If it’s a respectable place, and that is what I’ve heard about that particular bar, then all you should have to do is to make the customers feel welcome. Probably you should encourage them to buy drinks.” She giggled “With your head I’d make sure that your drinks are of the soft variety.”

“But I will have to be dressed up like some kind of showgirl. That would be too much, don’t you think?”

“More likely to be too little” quipped she. “You know that you will look amazing, and you’ll have a ball. I just wish I could see you got up like that. Send me a photo!”

Send her a photo? As if I enjoyed making a spectacle of myself!

What was she thinking?