"Bon Jour, I am Madame Matilde. How may I help you today?" an exquisitely dressed woman asked as they came through the door.
"We are looking for a dress for a formal dinner" he responded. "Something… tasteful."
"I have several lovely dresses that would be wonderful with your coloring," she said looking at Moira. "Come along with me, dear, and you, sir, have a seat and we'll be back in a few minutes.
Illya took a seat and a young woman came out and offered him a flute of champagne which he declined. He felt as if he'd fallen down a rabbit hole and wanted to keep his wits about him. A second woman brought out a plate of tiny sandwiches and offered him a cup of coffee which he accepted.
The first dress was an emerald green silk that clung to Moira's body like a second skin.
"Perhaps something a little more…understated?"
The second dress fit the bill. It was a black knit fabric, and though it plunged deeply in the back it had a high, quite modest neckline. Moira twirled in front of him and raised a questioning eyebrow. He was about to say they would take the dress, when he saw a look of distress cross Madame Matilde's face—then he saw the source of her distress. As Moira moved the dress revealed an area of deep scarring which appeared to extend from her lower back to her left hip.
"Oh," Moira said as she caught sight of the back of the dress in the mirror. "Well, now that won't do, will it? Let's try the claret colored one."
"What are you wearing?" Moira asked as she headed back into the dressing room. Kuryakin checked his watch.
"Madame Matilde, is there a men's formalwear shop nearby?"
"Yes, sir, just around the corner and three doors down the street. Why don't you go ahead and take care of that and I'll have her ready when you return?"
He stopped at the barbershop on the corner for a shave while they made some quick adjustments to the tuxedo, and returned to Madame Matilde's forty-five minutes later. He was half expecting to find she'd taken advantage of his absence to bolt with his three-hundred dollars but he could hear the two women chatting in the dressing room.
"We need to be going," he called back to the women.
"One moment, monsieur, "Madame Matilde responded, "I believe you will find it well worth the wait. He was about to seat himself when the curtain opened and the women emerged. He didn't consider himself a man easily surprised but he found himself momentarily speechless. Moira was stunning. The dress looked as it had been designed for her alone. Madame Matilde had coaxed her curly auburn hair into a sophisticated upswept hair style, and added some simple jewelry and a light touch of makeup.
"Well, look at you, boy-o," she said then turned and looked at her own reflection in the mirror. "Don't the pair of us clean up nice?"
"Indeed. We need to get moving," he said tapping his watch. "Madame Matilde, how much do I owe you?"
"I will send you an invoice, monsieur."
He reached into his wallet and handed her a white card. "Merci beau coups, Madame."
He didn't want to think about how much the bill would be, but seeing Moira now, he knew he would pay it without complaint."
"So, Mr. Waverly is your boss, and his wife is Margaret. And Napoleon is your partner at the firm—he's the one who flirts and I need to be careful what I say to him."
"Yes, he's going to be suspicious and will undoubtedly try to trip you up."
"Are we in love?"
"Excuse me?"
"Are we 'in love' or are we casually dating?"
"Somewhere in between I suppose."
"Are we sleeping together?"
"Perhaps we need to go over the parameters of acceptable 'small talk'?"
"I'm just trying to immerse myself in the part."
"It's dinner, Moira, not a Fellini movie. Just smile and talk about the weather."
Servers were circulating among the guests bearing silver trays laden with crystal flutes of sparkling wine. He took a pair and handed one to her.
"Slainte," she said with sweet smile.
"Na Zdorovie," he responded clinking her glass gently.
"The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain." At his bemused gaze she added, "I'm practicing my small talk."
"Ah, yes. We should go in and find our table."