Page 75 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

Breaking their kiss, Deepa pulled back just enough to slide the ring onto her finger. “Consider this a placeholder until I can get you something more your style?”

Roz stared at it for a second, the gold band incongruously delicate on her finger. “No, it’s perfect.” Clearing her throat,she reached for her jacket draped over the vanity, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “I actually have one for you already.”

From the breast pocket, she withdrew a little paper envelope, which she opened to shake a ring out into Deepa’s open palm. “I picked it up a short while back. Found it by chance in a pawnshop when I was looking to pick up a replacement hood ornament for work. I wasn't thinking of it as an engagement ring at the time, but I was thinking of you, all the same.”

The ring was a slender band of silver with a single tiny blue stone set in it, which was as likely to be coloured glass as a real gem. Deepa didn’t care. The silver and blue were Roz’s colours as surely as the ruby and gold were her own, and she slid the ring up her finger with a sense of belonging she’d never felt before, but which she hoped to experience every day for the rest of her life.

“I’ll get you a real diamond,” Roz said, watching her closely.

“It doesn’t matter. I love it.”

“I’ll get you a diamond anyway. Can’t have anyone thinking I don't know how to treat a girl right. I’m in this for the long haul, after all.” Taking Deepa’s hand to hold over her heart, Roz leaned up for another kiss.

“Even if the curse doesn't break?” Deepa asked against her lips.

Roz shook her head, moving to pepper Deepa’s jaw, down the line of her neck, tugging her sari out of the way to reach her collarbones. “Not worried about it,” she said confidently.

“Do you think Appleton can do it?” Deepa pressed.

“Maybe. I don’t know him,” Roz replied carelessly, more intent on working her way down Deepa’s front than interested in the matter of curse-breaking.

Deepa was tempted to let her continue and see how far she could get, but a great commotion burst out from the other sideof the door for the second time that night, and she had to reluctantly put a hand on Roz’s shoulder to stop her. “We’d best see what that was.”

“Probably that twat Phillip. You want, I can hit him again,” Roz offered, holding her around the waist like they were dancing.

Emerging from the dressing room, they found Phillip and Jonathan engaged in an embarrassing round of fisticuffs on the edge of the stage. It was clear that Jonathan had never thrown a punch in his life, and equally clear that Phillip didn't know what to do without a little pistol to wave around threateningly.

“Bloody awful form, the both of them,” Roz said disparagingly.

With a sharp sigh, Deepa marched onto the stage, and, grabbing each of them by their collars, pulled them apart like separating two cats engaged in a back alley spat. Jonathan, she instantly released with a little push away from the fight, but Phillip, she gave a shove and sent him sprawling off the stage to land flat on his arse on the floor. Standing centre stage, she glared down at him, with his bloodied nose crooked and swollen, his voice gummed up from it.

“Yes,” she said in a cold, clear voice that carried through the entire club, “I was the leopard London saw that night, and yes, I do rather wish I’d clawed your face off when I had the chance. You might have cursed me to take the form of a wild animal every night, but you, Phillip, are a pig all on your own.”

Turning away without waiting for whatever rejoinder he had to offer, she marched down the steps of the stage, her heels clicking smartly with each one, and left him sputtering uselessly without an audience. Returning to Roz’s side, Deepa grasped her hand before searching out Appleton from the gathered crowd.

“Now, about this curse,” she began.

Appleton nodded. “I see you've taken care of it.”

She stopped short. “I’m sorry. I. What?”

Beside her, Roz squeezed her hand with a pleased hum. “Told you not to worry about it.”

“What—”

Letting go of Roz, Deepa furiously patted herself down, trying to feel out any change. It was hardly noticeable, like slipping out of a silk shift, but if she screwed her eyes shut tight and concentrated very hard—

“But we'd already kissed!” she objected, outraged, her eyes flying open again. “We’d already kissed a dozen times!”

“We hardly knew each other then,” Roz said calmly. “True love doesn’t just come out of nowhere. It needs some time to build up.”

“Could you tell before I did?”

“Smelled it change before we left the dressing room again.”

“And you.” Deepa rounded on Appleton. “You could tell just by looking at me?”

“Without all your other illusions swirling around, yes. Something green has lifted from your aura. This colour suits you better,” he added. “It looks plummy, now, and healthier.”

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