In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

"Yes, we go dance, eat oysters and caviar, bring in New Year,
but first, dinner, lobster with truffles."
"Where?"
"Downstairs. The Ambassadeur. Come take a shower with me."
After he toweled off her hair he sat her down on the commode
and inspected her feet, her toes, her raggedy fingernails. He brought out
a clipper and file and knelt down before her and went to work.
A sea of green chiffon pooled around her ankles. Out of a
tissue filled box he pulled two tiny satin stiletto sandals, to wear with
the dress.
"If you think I'm walking three steps in those things!"
"In 3/4! Please, it is almost like ballet, and you did the trapeze!"
"In gymnastics not the circus! These are like, midget hooker
shoes!"
He chuckled, "Per favore? I always want to do this!"
He slipped them on her. She wobbled forward a few steps on
the carpet. Her hem no longer trailed on the floor. In the bathroom on
the tile floor, she did a little better.
"Ok, I think I got the hang of it, you win."
He turned her around in front of the armoire mirror. "Galliano
mixes 'the incredibly refined with the savage,' so I say, but that is you!"
He tugged at her strap so it fell off her shoulder. "I always
wanted to do this, too."
She'd heard about Angelo's stiletti, the evening gowns, but
spaghetti straps? His hand slipped under the silk.
He slid the suit out of its bag: a tux, tails and all, the shirt with
small folds down the front, a white bow tie, a cummerbund, no baton.
He even had patent leather shoes that he broke in with some fancy little
steps. "My turn now!"
She was really nervous now. "You look like a conductor."
"Yes, and you are my instrument!"
"I'm not an orchestra!"
He laughed pulled her in the bathroom where she followed his
steps, in 3/4. Back in the room she reached for her camo jacket but he
stopped her. "No look in the bag!"
From the white shopping bag she pulled out a long silky black
jacket that was light as air, and although it had certainly cost twenty
times as much, she doubted it was waterproof, or would last a minute
of bramble thick trail.
"This'll do. Thanks, what can I say?"
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