Bouncing Betty by Liliana Hart (english reading book .TXT) 📕

a sentence I’d be surprised. This should be the easiest job you’ve ever had.”

A small, birdlike woman walked into the room at that moment with dress bags over her arm. Her hair was jet black and pulled back from a pointed face with a hawkish nose. She wasn’t an attractive woman, but she commanded the room.

“Stand,” she said in crisp French. “Take off your robe and stand over here.”

“Scarlet,” Esther said. “This is Madame Blanche. You are very lucky to be wearing one of her creations.”

Seconds later, I found myself standing on a small platform completely naked. She opened the dress bag and pulled out a long column of scarlet, and I was mesmerized by the richness of the color.

It was simple in design until I stepped into the column and she brought it to my waist, tucking and pinning as she went. Two swathes of silk hung down in front of me and she pulled them up, arranging the silk over one shoulder, tucking only one of my breasts behind the opaque fabric.

Esther sighed. “I’ve dreamed of having a body like yours. The damage I could do to the male population with breasts like those.”

My lips twitched. “Is this the new style?” I asked. “To leave one breast completely exposed? I’ve heard stories of the French, of course, but this seems like it might be asking for trouble in a drive all the way across town.”

Esther laughed, and Madame Blanche swatted my hands away and clucked her tongue as if dressing me was beneath her. To be honest, it probably was beneath her. Clothes like these were completely wasted on me. I’d much rather something comfortable that I could move quickly and freely if I got in an interesting situation.

Madame Blanche had a needle and thread in her mouth, and she held an embroidered strip of sheer cloth in the same vibrant red. She tucked and stitched the piece and then brought it up over my bare breast, attaching it at my shoulder where the other fabric met.

“Oh, my,” Esther said. “Just lovely.”

When I turned to look at myself in the mirror I didn’t recognize the woman standing there. It certainly didn’t look like the girl from Whiskey Bayou I’d once known.

The shade of red she’d chosen complemented my skin. My eyes were smudged at the corners and my lashes full and long. And that one scrap of sheer material with the embroidery made a simple dress exceptional. A flower had been sewn strategically into the fabric and kept the dress from being indecent. Just barely.

Madame Blanche knelt at my feet and sewed the hem of the dress so it stopped at the tip of my shoes. And then she stood up and stuck her various pins and needles back in the pincushion, gathered her things, and looked at Esther expectantly.

“Thank you, Madame Blanche,” Esther said. “This is exceptional work on such short notice. It’s close to curfew. You’re welcome to stay in our guest suite.”

“I have time to make it home,” she said. “My driver is still sitting out front.”

Esther nodded, and without a goodbye, the tiny woman walked out of the room.

“How do you feel?” Esther asked once we were alone.

“Like I hate to waste this dress on someone like Friedrich Wagner,” I said. “I feel like Graham would be much more appreciative. I supposed I shouldn’t worry that Madame Blanche didn’t give me any underthings to put on.”

Esther smiled. “A dress like this is not meant for underthings.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, holding the skirt and swishing it back and forth. “It has good movement. But I don’t have a place for my knife.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone anywhere without it, and I stepped off the platform and went to my trousers the maid had folded and put on the dresser. I felt in the pocket and pulled out the leather sheath and the sharp blade. It was a security blanket of sorts, the only sentimental thing I’d brought with me from home.

“Yes, that will definitely leave a line in a dress like this,” Esther said. “The skirt is somewhat transparent in the light as you walk. You’ll have to keep it in your handbag. Go ahead and tie it to a garter so you can slip it on if you need to move quickly.”

“Good thinking,” I said, giving her the knife. Neither of us mentioned that my hands shook slightly as she took the knife from me.

“I’m not used to going into a situation like this unprotected,” I said. “Between the sheerness of the dress and my knife not readily available, it makes me very vulnerable to Wagner. He could overpower me in a moment and that would be that.”

“But he won’t, because you’ll be so convincingly seductive that he’ll be a puddle at your feet,” she said. “Something I’ve learned over the years is the faster you can get a man naked the less suspicious they become of you. They can only think with one brain at a time. But just in case, I think I have the perfect finishing touch for you.”

“What is it?” I asked, watching her take a locked leather case from the bed.

“Sometimes women need a little ingenuity for safety reasons,” she said, smiling. “This should do nicely.”

Esther unlocked the case and opened the center compartment, and then opened the two side compartments so the entire case was displayed. “Goodness,” I said, eyeing the ruby-and-diamond-encrusted hairpin. It was long and thin like a chopstick, and Esther pulled at the cluster of jewels and it detached from a small scabbard, revealing an ice-thin pick.

“Good for a sneak attack,” Esther said. “Especially if you find yourself trapped beneath someone you don’t want to be under. A quick stab in the kidneys usually gets them to move off you pretty fast.”

“I can imagine,” I said, watching her place the hairpin back in the scabbard. Then she slid it carefully into my elaborately coiffed hair.

“Perfect,” she said. “Now for the