“It’s all in a night’s work,” she said once her shoes were off and she could straighten out again. A moment later, she pulled a bag off the opposite seat and unzipped the top. “You’re going to have to turn away for a moment.” She pulled out a pair of well worn jeans and a sweat shirt.
Jeremy did as she asked, even closing his eyes so he couldn’t see her reflection in the darkly tinted window. Not that he’d see anything. Her night clubbing costume came complete with a body stocking that was comfortable enough to wear underneath her sweatshirt while she could just slide her jeans up underneath her itsy bitsy dress. The body stocking covered everything underneath her dress and ensured that she could move around during these plays without any embarrassing photos showing up on the internet the following morning.
It took her less than sixty seconds to get out of her costume, at which time she tossed the dress onto the other seat. She didn’t care how it landed, she’d never be able to wear it again after tonight. It would go to a consignment shop for re-sale, but not quite yet. She had to wait until the photos of her in the dress showed up in the tabloids and sometimes that took a few weeks. Even her dress sales were carefully choreographed.
“Thanks, you can turn around now.”
Jeremy immediately turned, his eyes widening at her complete transformation. “Wow, you really hated that dress, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” Darcy replied with fervor. “They’re all pretty annoying but serve a higher purpose. Are they still following us, George?” she called to the driver.
“I think I lost them a few blocks back but give me a bit more time just to make sure,” he replied.
Darcy nodded her head and started pulling out pins from her hair. “Don’t you want to take off that tie? Relax a bit?”
Jeremy shook his head. “This is a bit too fascinating to ignore.” He watched as her long, brown tresses fell down around her shoulders, which were then quickly gathered back up and clamped together with an old scrunchy, complete with locks hanging down behind her and loosely hanging down about her neck and shoulders. At this point in the evening, she didn’t care if her hair looked neat and tidy or like a rat’s nest as long as nothing was poking her scalp.
Next came the makeup cloths. Darcy loved this process the most. As she wiped the already damp cloths against her skin, she could feel her pores start breathing once again. This process took significantly longer than the clothes and hair transformation, but when she was finished, Jeremy’s whistle of astonishment proved that she was completely transformed.
“You could pass for the girl next door,” he said, amazed at the before and after difference in the woman with whom he’d just spent the last several hours dancing.
“Bite your tongue!” she said, looking at him aghast.
He laughed and glanced back through the rear window. “Looks like we’re free.”
Darcy looked as well, her eyes scanning the buildings and corners, ensuring that they weren’t being followed. “I think you’re correct.” Calling out to George, “What do you think? Are we safe?”
“Think so!” he replied and immediately swung to the left, heading towards the rendezvous point. Thankfully it was only minutes away but Darcy was already packed up by the time the limousine pulled up next to the darkened Lincoln. Sticking out her hand, she smiled, “Jeremy, you were wonderful tonight. Let’s hope we both have good outcomes tomorrow.”
“You’re a real trip,” he commented back, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.
As soon as the limousine stopped, Darcy jumped out and dove into the passenger seat of the waiting Lincoln. As soon as both doors were closed, the black vehicles separated, splitting off and going in opposite directions.
“You’re right on time, Matt,” she sighed as the driver and her friend winked at her and turned up the heat, knowing how she felt the cold more than others. He always told her it was because she didn’t have enough body fat but she would just roll her eyes and shake her head.
Darcy looked out at the night, sighing wearily. The city lights flashed by but she didn’t see them anymore. She was tired of the lights, tired of the game. Tired of everything right at the moment.
As they traveled away from the city, slowly the city lights faded and became fewer but the Lincoln continued to travel west, heading into the rural areas beyond the city. Darcy wouldn’t know this since she was fast asleep, her legs tucked underneath her and her head resting on her bag as a pillow.
The sun was almost over the horizon when the Lincoln came to a gentle stop. Matt put the car into park then got out and came around to the side. “Darcy. You’re home,” he whispered.
From experience, he knew to wake her slowly. She was generally disoriented when she was out this completely and would need a bit of help.
Darcy sat up and looked around, not saying a word. There was only one light on outside the car but her mind slowly started to function. “We’re home,” she croaked out, her voice gone from all the shouting in the clubs, not to mention the smoke of the night clubs.
“Yep. Do you need help walking?” Matt asked.
Darcy shook her head and slid off the seat. Taking a tentative step, she pulled herself out of the car, grabbing the sides to steady herself. The walk from the car to her tiny cottage seemed like a mile but in reality it was only about twenty feet. “I’m fine,” she claimed, trying to reassure both herself as well as Matt who was hovering, looking concerned. “Don’t worry about me. Go ahead and let Dave know that you’re back. He always worries on these nights.”
“Dave knows the drill just as well as I do and I’m not leaving until you’re sitting on the side of your bed, darling.”
Dave and Matt were significant others who helped her on so many levels, not to mention just being very good friends. Matt was always there for her, knew the routine and no matter what Darcy said, he wouldn’t leave her until she was in her snug little cottage. There was a great deal of comfort knowing that someone was there to pick you up when you fall, she thought, smiling at his stubborn expression.
Sure enough, as soon as she stepped out of the car, her legs gave out on her, too tired from hours of dancing in painfully high heeled sandals. That’s what happens when one doesn’t train for these things correctly.
Matt didn’t laugh, didn’t joke or say “I told you so”. He simply put a long, muscular arm around her waist and took most of her weight onto his side, practically carrying her inside.