Painted Faces by L.H. Cosway

who just live in organised chaos.
    I let out a heavy sigh and nod, unable to refuse. The idea of being around Nicholas on a regular basis makes my heart beat quicker.
    His eyes grow even hotter at my acceptance. “That's brilliant, you can start tomorrow.”
    “ I hope I don't fuck it up on you. I won't have a clue what I'm doing.”
    “ Just be your fabulous self and you won't,” he says sincerely, coming over to shake my hand. “Welcome to the wonderful world of Vivica Blue,” he goes on, smiling down at me. This hand shake is a threshold moment. With this strangely beautiful man in my life, I have a feeling it will never be the same again.

Chapter Four
     
    Ollo the Ferret

    I wake up the next morning at ten-thirty, feeling wonderfully refreshed with my full eight hours of sleep, in spite of the alcohol I drank last night. Unfortunately, the sensation is misleading, because when I sit up the dizziness hits me. I go into the kitchen and get myself a pint glass of cold water. Nora won't be up until around one, because she has to work for the next three nights in a row and will be getting every bit of shut eye she can grab during the day.
    It's sunny out again and I want to take advantage of that, so I grab a quick shower, pop on a comfy blue cotton sun dress and some flip flops and head out for a white mocha from Starbucks. The nearest one is on Dame Street, which is a short walk, but I'll go the distance for such creamy goodness.
    As I pass by Nicholas' door I stop a moment and consider asking him if he'd like to join me. I argue with myself back and forth in my head before I finally take the plunge and knock.
    There's silence for a minute, but then I hear movement. It sounds like he's getting out of bed. Oh no, I hope I didn't wake him. A floor board creaks just before the door opens and Nicholas peeks his head out, squinting his tired eyes at me. He appears to be topless, but he could very well have no clothes on at all since he's hiding his bottom half behind the door.
    I've never understood the appeal of sleeping in the nude, but slim people seem to be mad about it. Us heavier types tend to avoid doing anything with our full bodies on show, even if we're the only ones there to witness it.
    He seems momentarily disgruntled, but when he sees it's me his whole face lights up. Let me tell you, having a man like this look so pleased to see you first thing in the morning is a nice little boost to the ego.
    “ Fred, what a pleasant surprise,” he greets me. “What time is it?”
    “ Around half past eleven. I was wondering if you'd like to join me for some mid morning caffeine to get the old motors running.”
    “ That sounds like a great idea. Give me a minute to make myself decent,” he replies.
    “ I knew it! You're in the nip behind there aren't you.”
    He grins. “Bare as the day I was born darling, now don't go getting all riled up at the visual. I'll be right back.”
    He closes the door over a little and disappears. I stand in the hallway waiting for him. Five minutes later he returns, pulling a black t-shirt on over his damp hair. I shamelessly ogle his abs before quickly looking away in case he catches me.
    “ That has to have been the quickest shower in all of history. I think I was only in for about a minute and a half.”
    He locks the door to his apartment and we continue out of the building. “You should inform the Guinness book of world records,” I tell him.
    “ Oh I have every intention,” he replies with a smirk.
    When we get out onto the street Nicholas links his arm through mine, in a friendly sort of way. We saunter down George's Street, dodging the crowds of weekend shoppers who are out in their droves. Just before the Starbucks on Dame Street is the Central Bank, which is always coated in a sea of black clothes, studded belts, and brightly coloured hair dye on Saturdays.
    It's a prime hang out spot for the Goths and Emos, not to mention the hipsters. I'll let you in on a little