CHAPTER FIFTEEN - YOU, BUT MORE

"I think you and Francine should go," Lee said when they were alone in the Q-Bureau again. Dr Smyth had listened to the details of Lee's plan and given it his blessing, then given them a terse nod and headed for the door, tossing over his shoulder that he'd wait for an update in the morning, and "you were right, King, that's the right amount of mayo for a sandwich."

Amanda blinked. "Me? I thought you'd want to go in as the business associate."

"I think the two of you can play up the fashion designer angle far better than I ever could. I'd have no clue about textiles, and the goal here is to make him think Liza Deveaux is a real person who doesn't understand why her dresses aren't all over the store."

"She would enjoy that."

A swift rap on the door made them both turn to look, and the subject of their conversation stood framed in the doorway. "Amanda," she said, "Leatherneck's made three trips past my desk looking for you, and he's about to come up here."

"We were just about to come looking for you," Amanda said.

Francine blinked. "You were?"

"We have an idea and we're wondering if you can help."

"Why aren't the two of you doing your usual tag-team thing?" Francine asked, and Lee launched into an explanation of their plan to turn Liza Deveaux, fictional character in a con, into a real person. One who would make Robert Terwilliger, head of purchasing for the Warren Company department stores, believe his scam was coming to an end.

"I couldn't play a fashion designer if I wanted to," Amanda said.

"And it's easier if there's a grain of truth to it, you know that," Lee said. "If you can keep him talking Amanda might even be able to snoop around a little."

Francine sighed. "I have a ton on my roster this week."

"It's a simple interview, in and out in an hour," Lee insisted. "You're just planting the seed, and Amanda and I will take it from there."

Francine's eyes turned toward the ceiling. "Fine," she said. "If we're going to play the part, we're going to do it right." She studied Amanda for a minute. "Wear that white blouse you have, the one with the crisp collar and the pleats," she said, drawing lines up and down the front of her body. "My pants are probably too short for you to wear heels, so flats will have to do."

"I can just wear regular clothes," Amanda said. "I'm not the designer. I'm the business person."

"Amanda, you cannot. A fashion designer would never work with someone who wears regular clothes."

"Even on the business side?"

"Of course not." Francine frowned. "Just trust me, okay? If you want this to work."

"Fine," Amanda said. She looked across the room at Lee, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement, and felt some of her antipathy evaporate. "But nothing too weird or too revealing."

"Of course not," Francine said.

"Or ugly," Amanda added suddenly. "Nothing ugly."

"Oh Amanda," Francine said, laughing, "as if I'd own anything ugly."

Amanda found Francine waiting for her the next morning, perched on the sofa in the Q-Bureau sipping coffee from a mug with a Marvelous Marvin's logo on it. She wore a pink Chanel suit, her hair smoothed into a sleek updo, and Amanda caught a hint of expensive perfume. She looked every inch as if she worked for a fashion house.

When she saw Amanda she gestured toward the coat rack beside the door, where a garment bag hung, waiting. "Oh good," she said, "You wore the blouse like I asked. I brought you a suit to wear. No sweater sets. This is the big trend this season."

Amanda heaved a sigh and disappeared into the vault to change. She heard Lee laughing. She had thought the pants would be too short but Francine had hemmed them to wear with her sky-high heels, and Amanda was wearing flats. She had to admit the wool was soft and draped beautifully, and the jacket seemed huge on the hanger but hung perfectly from her shoulders.

She stepped out of the vault and peered at herself in the mirror. "Oh, I don't like it," she said. "It doesn't feel like me at all."

"It's not supposed to," Francine said. "It's a power suit."

Amanda grimaced. She cast a glance at Lee, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, don't look at him," Francine said, frustrated. "He likes you in everything."

Amanda tugged at the sleeves, frowning. Francine came up behind her and smoothed the shoulders.

"It looks perfect on you," she said. "I don't know why you don't experiment more, instead of hiding in those flowy skirts and cardigans. You're like a walking clothes hanger."

"I know there's a compliment buried in there somewhere," Amanda said wryly. Lee chuckled.

"You should do something with your hair," Francine said. "Or maybe your makeup. More severe or something. You look too… something. Suburban."

Amanda rolled her eyes. Francine, oblivious, dug in a bag sitting on the sofa beside her. "Here," she said. "Go down to the bathroom at the end of the hall and use this eyeshadow and…" She dug around again…"this lipstick."

"What's wrong with right here?"

"The light's better down there. If you do it in here you'll end up looking like a clown. You do know how to do it, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Francine," Amanda said, exasperated. "I have makeup on right now, just not anything so… dramatic."

"Go on then." Amanda turned for the door, compact and lipstick in hand. As she strode down the hall she tried to tamp down her annoyance. They'd asked for Francine's help on this because it was something she understood. She'd just have to go with it.

In the bathroom she swiped at the pot of eyeshadow, sweeping a plummy shade across her lid, accenting it with something even deeper. She blended and hemmed and hawed, feeling as though her face no longer belonged to her, filling in her lips with the deep red gloss Francine had shoved at her. She stood back and studied herself. "Well, no one would mistake you for a suburban mom now," she murmured. She spied a can of hairspray on the counter and, on impulse, flipped her hair upside down and gave it a generous spritz. Then she unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and flipped up the collar, in an imitation of a magazine cover she'd seen at the grocery store.

When she came back into the Q-Bureau, Lee and Francine both stopped speaking abruptly. They stared at her for a moment. "Do I look ridiculous?" she asked. "Like a business clown?"

"It's perfect," Francine said.

Lee cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, perfect."

Amanda frowned. Something about the expression on his face didn't seem right to her. Francine didn't seem to notice. She was busy putting her makeup away in its case. "We should leave in, what, thirty minutes?"

Amanda looked at her watch. "That sounds about right."

"All right. I've got to get a couple of reports in to Billy and I'll be back up here in half an hour." She gave them both a little wave. "See you then."

When she was safely down the hall, Amanda turned to look at Lee. "What?" she asked.

"What do you mean, what?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"The way Phillip looks at a deluxe pizza." She tugged at the sleeves of her suit. "It's this suit, isn't it? I hate it."

"Why do you hate it?" he said. "You look great in it."

Amanda wrinkled her nose. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Different, but…" He shrugged. "I don't know, it's kind of…" His voice trailed off. "You, but more."

"What does that mean?"

He cleared his throat again, then laughed. "Deluxe pizza."

"Oh, for…" Amanda started to shrug off the jacket, feeling strangely self-conscious, but stopped halfway. "What do you like about it?" she asked, suddenly curious. She hung the jacket carefully on the coat rack.

"I don't know," he said. "Look, Francine said it — I like you in everything, and it's true. I do. That's just… different. I've never seen you wear something like that before and it's kind of… well, sexy."

"This?" She peered down at herself. "Wool pants?"

"It's the whole menswear thing, I can't explain it," he said, sounding frustrated now. "And then the hair and makeup. Anyway, it doesn't matter, you're not trying to impress me. You're trying to make Terwilliger believe the jig is up and you want in on his little scheme."

She sat down at her desk.

"Do you like the makeup?" she asked finally. "Or is it too much?"

He laughed. "Amanda."

"What? I'm just curious."

"Sure, I like the makeup. I liked the other makeup, too. I like you with no makeup. Are you getting my drift here?"

"I'm getting your drift, yes," she said, laughing. She flipped open the file on her desk and began to read about Carrington Textiles again. She needed to make sure she had the story straight. Lee settled in behind his own desk and they worked in silence for a few minutes, but her mind kept wandering, thinking about how he'd said he liked the suit and the makeup, two things she'd never in a million years have worn. She wanted to ask him to rate it. Did he like it better than what she usually wore? What did he like best? She shook her head. You're being ridiculous, Amanda, she told herself. And then she opened her mouth to speak.

"What about the hair?"