Frosting On The Cake 2: Second Helpings Part 20

Setting: Hollywood, California.

There'd be no twenty-two without all of you..

Action.

(18 months).

"Please? Please please please?" Gail tugged her ball cap more firmly down on her head. The Santa Ana winds were in full force, raking across the Los Angeles basin like hot blades. "Why are we in a convertible if we're not going to have ice cream cones? It's ninety degrees and it's not even noon."

Selena put the turn signal on, earning a hoot of victory from Gail. "I fail to see what ice cream cones have to do with convertibles."

"It seems like exactly the sort of thing that Kim Novak or Joan Fontaine would do, doesn't it?"

Idling in a red zone, Selena only said, "Get me chocolate."

Gail hopped out of the car, reasonably sure that in hats, gla.s.ses and flip flops no one was going to recognize her. It was too hot to be coiffed. She knew her casual appearance would horrify Christopher, but then everything less than couture horrified Christopher. It was so rare that they had a day to just hang out, drive some place, share ice cream.

As she waited for the scoops she watched Lena in the car. She was frowning-probably reviewing her mental To Do list. Lena's latest project was opening production on Monday and last night they had both attended the wrap party for Gail's last movie. It had been a good part-not as much potential as her first one, but as a follow-up it would get solid attention. Catching attention for a major studio-funded project had been good for her credentials.

Their schedule convergence made this weekend rare as platinum, though Gail had to keep herself from demanding too much attention when Lena was trying to focus. Still, a trip to Christopher's and some ice cream seemed a great way to spend a free Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Tonight they had to get spruced up again, hence the decision to shop.

Chocolate in one hand and already licking her cherry toffee vanilla, she got back to the car in time to hand the cone over just before it dripped on the upholstery.

"It was in your hand," Gail said. "Not my problem."

"It's on your seat, so unless you want chocolate on your b.u.t.t find a napkin. And technically this is your car, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Gail was still not used to the idea that she could own a BMW convertible, but her ancient Corolla had died in glorious fas.h.i.+on on the 110 earlier in the summer. She dabbed at the spot with some water from the ubiquitous bottle in the cup holder. "All better."

"So where do I turn for Christopher's?"

"Next left. I can't believe you've never been there. Kim sent me there right off."

"Kim knows my tastes well. Vintage stuff looks awesome on you, darling, but I'm a less flashy type."

"What are we giving her for a wedding gift?"

That topic occupied the two of them the rest of the drive. Gail had been glad to see Lena's a.s.sistant walking on air since meeting Mr. Right. She truly hoped it lasted. And ice cream for lunch was dandy.

"This is it?" Selena pulled into a parking s.p.a.ce across the street from Christopher's pink-framed door. "All that fabulous clothing is in there?"

"I know it looks unlikely-you'll understand. C'mon slowpoke!"

Selena watched her wife skip across the street. In board shorts, A-s.h.i.+rt, flip flops and a Dodger hat Gail looked like a fifteen-year old boy. There were a million things she ought to be doing right now and none of them was more important than watching Gail lick an ice cream cone.

She followed at a more sedate pace-she hadn't skipped in years and maybe that was a shame and maybe she was saving her strength for the surprise she had planned for later, when they were home, alone, and could sleep in as late as they wanted. A romantic evening alone together was badly needed.

She smiled to herself and entered the store in time to hear a tenor-ranged male voice say, "What on earth are you wearing?"

"No one's going to recognize me, Christopher. I'm just not famous enough."

"You'd be more famous if they'd given you that Oscar you deserved. Well, you're not getting fat. Good." The angular, elderly man placed a bookmark in his book, closed it and set it at the end of his tidy counter. It looked like a memoir of Quentin Crisp.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Gail took a provocatively big bite out of her cone. "Weight standards in Hollywood are s.e.xist."

"Of course they are. You didn't know this when you decided to come here?" His arched eyebrow glance s.h.i.+fted from Gail to Selena. He regarded her owlishly through thick gla.s.ses for a moment, then said, "Ms. Ryan, I presume?"

"I've heard a lot about you, and decided to tag along," she said, looking around her. The walls were neatly draped with old movie posters, most sealed in plexigla.s.s frames. The clothing racks were s.p.a.ced out with a number of antique standing mirrors placed between them.

"Welcome to my humble store, then. It's good to see one of you doesn't completely throw fas.h.i.+on to the wind just because it's a bit hot out."

Selena wasn't sure if she should thank him for the compliment. Bermuda shorts, sandals, a thin cotton polo s.h.i.+rt... She was glad to know she pa.s.sed muster but she hadn't given it much thought.

"Gail, my dear, I've several outfits for you to consider. Come right this way."

A personal shopper always on the lookout for just the right thing was a nice plus in life, Selena decided. Gail was tall and gangly, and though she'd grown her hair a little bit longer, and Selena didn't know how anyone could mistake her full, beautiful lips and delicate curved brow for a guy's, it still happened. It was, as Gail said, the lack of b.o.o.bs-not that Selena had any complaint about that. What Gail had was very responsive and...not something she should be thinking about in a clothing store, she told herself. Later.

"These are legitimate Chanel," he announced, unzipping a wide garment bag. The turquoise is you, the rose will work, but I have my doubts about the chartreuse-oh dear G.o.d, no. No, let's put that one right away." He shuddered as he transferred the offending garment to a different rack.

If Christopher hadn't been at least seventy, Selena would have found his Big Queen act cloying, but she had a feeling he was an original, and at his age he could do as he liked. "I like that rose color. She has this fetching little hat-"

"The Rosalind Russell hat, yes it's perfect. You have an excellent eye, Ms. Ryan."

"Call me Selena, please."

"Harry Cohn never let me call him anything but Mr. Cohn."

"Harry Cohn never let anybody call him anything but Mr. Cohn-except perhaps Rita Hayworth."

"That sweet lady could call anyone anything and they'd love her for it. I was honored to cut cloth for her in Salome."

Selena smiled. "The costumes were gorgeous."

"They were. Jean Louis should have been nominated for his designs. They were exquisite." His gaze turned back to Gail, who was frowning at the teal jacket and skirt with big black b.u.t.tons and yellow braid. "Not that you could wear any of them. But you can wear that. Darling, you'll intimidate the super models, I mean, they are required to make that outfit look smas.h.i.+ng, but you do it just because you can."

"Would it look okay for an outdoor award kind of thing?"

"What kind of thing exactly?"

"Tonight my friend Hyde is getting a star on the Walk of Fame."

Christopher didn't squeak, but Selena thought that was just because the sound he made was out of her range of hearing. Elsewhere in the neighborhood it was possible that dogs had begun barking. "That man makes me perspire. He's Glenn Ford and Randolph Scott all rolled up together."

"Well, he's a sweetheart too, and I also need something to wear to his wedding, which is going to be a quiet affair."

"How does he think he'll manage that?"

"Private island out of range of helicopters from anywhere else." Selena happily spread the cover story. The wedding was actually taking place a week earlier than their leaked information would let on, and it was limited to only those people Hyde and his bride called family. Gail was family to him, a little sister that he confided secrets to. He sometimes sought Selena's advice on a role, and she was pleased that she had indeed earned his respect. There was a script on her desk right now that, with rewrites, might work for him.

"I might have something for that-a copy of the c.o.c.ktail dress Grace Kelly wore in To Catch a Thief, or it might have been Rear Window. Simple, would fit tropical weather."

"I'm no Grace Kelly," Gail said.

"Oh course not, but she didn't possess a particularly fulsome figure. She was shorter than you by four inches or so, but the dress I'm thinking of was cut to a demure length. Still, we can give it a try as the date draws closer. I have a number of other party dresses that won't shame me."

Obviously, Christopher took his role as Gail's dresser seriously. It was very nice to see her still struggling-to-be-noticed-and-not-always-as-The-Lesbian wife given star treatment.

"These two items came in last month from an estate sale. This one you are too young for, but it will likely work in future years-the cut is too good a fit for you to pa.s.s up." He set aside a tweed suit and held up instead a sleeveless princess-cut dress in black brocade, embellished with a great many black sequins. It made Selena mindful of Audrey Hepburn. Gail had these s.e.xy little boots that would be really fetching with it too.

The last suit she thought a bit ho hum in beige but no one had asked her opinion yet. Her interest in fas.h.i.+on had pretty much been exhausted by the time Gail and Christopher had discussed the trim and hem. Ecru, ivory, mushroom-whatever. It went the way of the chartreuse suit, leaving Gail with the two Chanels, the tweed and the dress.

"You try these on, then." He imperiously gestured toward the back of the store. "You know where."

Selena tagged along. She saw no reason to miss Gail removing her clothes. She liked the dressing room too. There was a Victorian love seat for her to lounge in while Gail tried on clothes. The whole dressing room was done in deep red brocade, including the walls, making it much like a lady's boudoir.

The tweed jacket and skirt were first and they fit like glove. He was right, the outfit made Gail look older-it was very Joan Fontaine traveling-on-the-continent, and it screamed cla.s.s and elegance. "Wear that to an audition when you need to age up," she suggested. "You don't look like a boy in the least in it."

"I never do in vintage clothes." Gail began unb.u.t.toning the jacket again. "Christopher says I was born fifty years too late and if I got a b.o.o.b job I'd have designers clamoring to fit me."

"Only get one if you want one."

"I don't." Gail glanced down at her chest. Her thin, skin-toned sport bra was more than adequate to the job of maintaining Gail's modesty. "They're not much but they're mine."

"And I appreciate that you let me visit." She didn't say another word but was gratified to see Gail flush.

"Stop that-later. Lots of time for that later."

"If you say so."

The Chanel suits were next. Both were p.r.o.nounced suitable and taken off again, leaving the Audrey Hepburn style dress. If anything it could be too narrow in the hip, Selena thought, which was hard to believe.

"Who would that have originally been made for?" She knew she didn't have a hope of ever being that small.

Christopher's voice floated over the enclosure wall. "If you mean the sheath, I was told it was designed for Twiggy, the Twiggy, but she never wore it. Darlings, I simply must run down the street to my bank. They close in just a bit-Sat.u.r.day hours. Is it all right if I lock you in? I won't be ten minutes."

"No worries," Gail called.

"I'll put a note on the door before I lock it. If someone rings, just ignore it."

The little bell at the entrance chimed and then the shop was silent.

"Zip?" Gail turned her back and Selena rose to ease the zipper up Gail's spine. She added a little nip at the nape of Gail's neck, just because.

"Later. What do you think?" Gail turned from the mirror. "It's very...elegant lady."

"It's very you," Selena said. Her eyes traced the outline of Gail's slender hips. "It fits beautifully."

"Except here." Gail pointed to one arm pit. "It's a little binding."

"Take off the sport bra-I think that's the issue. It looks like it's already lined so you wouldn't have to wear anything." She unzipped the dress again and Gail slid it off her shoulders.

Selena lifted off Gail's Dodger cap just before Gail pulled the bra over her head. She gave Gail's hair a quick ruffle, then-being no fool-she swept her hands around to cup Gail's b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Gail sucked in her breath. "We'll be here all day if you do that."

"I wouldn't mind." She loved the way Gail's shoulder blades tightened. A telltale red flush was creeping along her shoulders.

"The dress," Gail said weakly.

"Oh yes, the dress." She tried to a.s.sume a business-like air as she zipped it up.

Gail looked at herself in the mirror, then met Selena's gaze. "Given that my nipples are like rocks right now and they don't show I think you're right. I can go without a bra. It's a perfect fit."

"Perfect," Selena echoed. "That is a killer little black dress."

She had the zipper halfway down Gail's back when she came to her senses. They were alone. They had at least eight minutes left. She of all people knew the value of eight minutes. There was no reason to move this moment to later in their day. Gail was still flushed and her own heart was abruptly pounding.

The zipper now down to the base of Gail's spine, she pushed the dress off Gail's shoulders. Not giving her any time to react, she firmly pressed her face first into the wall next to the mirror and let the dress fall around her ankles.

"Lena, we-oh..."

Her fingernails on just the tips of Gail's nipples silenced the protest. "We have just enough time, I think. I didn't get where I am not knowing when to say aaction.'"

Gail started to laugh but was silenced again by Selena yanking down her panties. For a minute it was simply sublime to press her entire body against Gail's quivering warmth, her lips brus.h.i.+ng over the heat of Gail's neck.

"What if-"

"We'll stop. But I want to finish at least this." She slipped her hand between them. "Spread your legs for me, darling. Please... Oh yes."

Gail shuddered and her back curved deliciously in invitation. Selena's fingers were swimming as she cupped all of Gail's wonderful wetness in her hand.

"No time for teasing, darling, though I know how much you like that." Selena's head was spinning at the measure of Gail's surrender-it always affected her that way. Her voice was almost a stranger's, coming from a part of her that only Gail had ever heard. "I'm going to just have you, right now."

Gail braced both hands on the wall with a long, guttural moan. "Yes, yes Lena."

Part of her was listening for the bell, but most of her was reveling in the way she slipped inside Gail with a long, firm push. She withdrew, felt as well as heard Gail groan, then she was in again, harder. And harder.

Panting, Gail was pus.h.i.+ng back, the lean lines of her hips rippling as Selena ground against her. It felt fantastic to touch her, to be inside, to feel muscles gripping at her fingers in response to her touch. She kissed Gail's neck and tasted salt and suddenly their bodies were both slick with sweat from the fire burning between them.

Gail let out a long moan and her knees buckled. Selena caught her, pushed in one last time and savored every quiver against her fingertips, and every spasm of nerves as she slowly withdrew and cupped her again. She lightly caressed every fold and wet place, drawing a gasp and then a slow, satisfied sigh from Gail as they both carefully sank to the floor.

"That was...fun."

Gail cleared her throat and twisted around to give Selena an incredulous look. "Fun? Fun is for board games. That was-what if we'd gotten caught? What ever would we say to Kim and the rest of the staff if we'd ended up somebody's daily dish?"