“Argh.” I try to pull the sides together.
“No!” She laughs and bats my hands aside, then turns me to face the mirror. “I’d kill for your boobs. You look amazing.”
“This is Kingi we’re talking about,” I remind her. “He doesn’t need encouragement to look at a girl’s tits. If anything I should be trying to distract him. I ought to wear a roll-neck sweater.”
“No, she’s right,” Lisa says. “He’s a good-looking guy and you’re supposed to be his fiancée. You have to try to look the part.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to the mirror. “All right, I’ll wear it, thank you. But maybe I should put a safety pin in the middle?”
Ria gets off the bed. “Go and get ready, before my brain explodes.”
Lisa laughs and gets up too. “Let us know if you need anything else. The bathroom’s all yours.” The two of them leave the room, closing the door behind them.
I survey my reflection and tug the two sides of the top together. They refuse to meet, though, leaving the Grand Canyon of my cleavage available for anyone to see.
Huffing a sigh, I take off my clothes, put on a robe, and go and have a shower.
By the time Kingi draws up outside the house in his Porsche, I’m ready. The girls do Paper, Scissors, Rock to establish who gets to answer the door, and a triumphant Lisa goes to answer it when he knocks.
“Hello!” she says.
“Kia ora.” He smiles at her. He’s wearing cream chinos and a maroon shirt that stretches tightly across his impressive biceps. He’s rolled up his shirt sleeves, and his Maori sleeve tattoo is clearly visible. The guy fills the doorway physically and metaphorically. Talk about larger than life.
Lisa immediately turns scarlet and loses the ability to speak.
Ria giggles and joins her at the door. “I’m Ria,” she tells him, offering her hand, “and this is Lisa.”
“Afternoon, ladies. It’s great to meet you.” His voice is deep and resonant. He’s tidied his hair and beard, but they’re both still long. Everything else about him screams wealth, from the car sitting like a panther on the roadside to his large expensive watch. It’s not the first time I’ve thought of him as a modern-day Tumatauenga, the god of war and hunting.
“I… um…” Ria looks up… and up… and up… and blushes.
“Good grief.” I usher both of them away from the door. “Stop charming my friends,” I scold him, retrieving my purse.
“I’m just standing here.”
“It’s the way you’re standing.”
“On my feet?”
I wave goodbye to them, go out, and close the door behind me. “You know perfectly well what you do to women.”
“Well it’s not intentional, and I never mean to…” His voice trails off. “Er…” He blows out a breath. He’s looking straight into my eyes, but his gaze has an odd intensity.
“Are you trying not to eye-dip me?” I ask curiously.
“Summoning every inch of willpower I own,” he replies.
I roll my eyes. “You’ll dislocate something if you carry on like that. Just look and get it over with.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He takes my hand.
“You’re saying you’ve never looked at my boobs?”
“I always look at your boobs. I just didn’t realize they were quite so… full. That’s some cleavage you got there, girl.”
I look down at it as we walk to the car. “I wanted to wear a roll-neck sweater, but the girls wouldn’t let me.”
“Please thank them for me.”