Page 24 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

She’d only picked up on the dress’s enchantments, like Appleton had done. Not the curse.

“Just enough to catch their attention.”

“All’s fair in love and war?”

“Something like that. And I wasn't wearing it at Club Artemis or at your fight,” Deepa added, as if Roz wouldn't have been able to tell. “It’s just a little glamour, and only when I’m working.”

Roz raised her hands, the bouquet of flowers rustling in her arms. “I'm not judging you, love. Not like I didn’t know what I was getting into. Watching the men buzz around you, knowing you've got to play them a certain way…that’s just what girls have to put up with to get by, isn't it?”

Deepa’s conversation with Appleton was still fresh in her mind. “So, you’re not the jealous type?”

Roz sidled close once more. “I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t rather keep you all to myself.”

“And what would you do if you had me?”

In the shadows, with the crowd’s attention safely on the dancers, Roz toyed with the beads at the waist of Deepa’s dress. “Why don’t you take this little number off, and I’ll show you?”

“Moving fast tonight, aren’t we?” Deepa asked, doing absolutely nothing to push her away.

“We can go as fast or slow as you want, sweetheart. But you’ve got more glamours sewn into this thing than I can count, and they're making me feel love-drunk to look at you. Have done since I first laid eyes on you this evening. Now, I don’t mind sweet-talking you, but I’d rather do it when I feel like I'm in control of my own words.”

“Fair enough. Come to my dressing room?”

Deepa didn't have her own personal dressing room, but shared the space with all the other girls. At least for the moment, they were busy on the floor, so she shut the door behind Roz and hoped they could catch a few minutes of privacy before an inevitable interruption reared its head. She’d taken men back to the dressing room before, when she’d needed to give them a little extra sugar to smooth the way for further gifts.

Taking Roz back there felt significantly different. She felt giddy and fluttery and almost shy, the kind that lent itself to blushing and stolen glances, lingering touches that could be construed as friendly but felt inappropriate, with butterflies in her stomach and a hush to her voice like every word had to be kept just between the two of them. Like being a few drinks into a bottle of expensive wine, where everything was warm and tipsy. It felt intoxicating.

With the door shut, Deepa deposited her night’s spoils on the vanity before turning one shoulder towards Roz, sweeping her hair forward as she angled her body coquettishly. “Would you get the zip for me?”

Setting her flowers on the vanity overtop Deepa’s new baubles, Roz traced her way up the back of Deepa’s dress until she came to the zip resting between Deepa’s shoulder blades. Gently, she tugged it down to the small of her back, the dress falling away from Deepa’s upper body in a multitude of beads and charms. When neither of them stopped it, the fabric fell to the floor around her ankles in a shimmer of music, leaving Deepa in her shift and stockings.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Deepa asked, when Roz didn’t make a move.

“Can I…?”

“Kiss me.”

Deepa turned as Roz stepped forward, meeting in the middle. One hand went to Roz’s shoulder, the other to the side of her face, guiding her straight to Deepa's lips. The spark was instant, and Deepa threw herself into it, tongue and hands exploratory and sweet. She felt more for Roz than she’d ever felt for anyone — more interest, more intrigue, more desire. That had to be worth something.

Is this love?she wondered, chasing Roz’s taste.

As hopeful and fluttery as she felt, she didn't really believe it. Love was an impossibly strong word. Attraction, at least, she could believe. Infatuation, even. She’d seen enough evidence of both of those at work. Love, though, and for a woman she’d only met a week ago? Love didn't feel real.

But maybe whatever this was would be close enough to do the job. It wasn’t as if Phillip was a master of his craft. Maybe any kiss would do.

By the time they broke off to breathe their own air again, Deepa didn't feel changed. Perhaps she wouldn't know whether the curse had broken until the stroke of midnight. She hadn't really felt it take effect until her first transformation, after all. Maybe it would leave as subtly as it had arrived.

“Were those glamours just on your dress?” Roz asked. They were still standing close enough to function as a single body, Roz’s face turned to the side of Deepa’s neck, nuzzling behind her ear, nose against her dangling earring. “I can still smell it on you…”

“Maybe that’s just my scent,” Deepa breathed.

Roz hummed, her arms looped low around Deepa’s waist, her hands flat in the small of her back. Their fronts were pressed together, ribs to ribs and breasts to breasts, warm and solid. It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy.

“Would you like to come upstairs?” Deepa asked in a low voice.

Roz shifted to press her lips to the line of Deepa’s neck. “It’s only an hour till eleven.”

Deepa hesitated. Either that kiss had broken the curse or it hadn’t. If she was already home, she wouldn’t need more than a few minutes to prepare for the rest of her night either way.

---