‘There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight.’
‘No, but put them on. They’ve got plain glass in them. Honestly, people wear them to look cool these days. My God. You just need to cultivate that bit of beard you’ve got, and you’re totally Hoxton Square.’
‘I’m not sure he’s meant to be,’ cautioned Jenna, and Jason demonstrated wholehearted agreement by pulling off the beanie hat.
‘I wouldn’t be seen dead in this,’ he said with finality.
‘OK. I think you’re right,’ said Alfonso. ‘It’s so not you. But it was fun to try. Can I experiment with a different look?’
He returned to the clothes rails.
Jason stepped out next in a voluminous white shirt tucked into tight burgundy velvet trousers with riding boots and a black cravat. A big slouchy velvet hat perched on his head at an awkward angle, as if afraid of slipping off.
‘This looks like the bloke on the paint-by-numbers kit I had as a kid,’ said Jason. ‘Art Master of Chelsea.’
‘It is a bit stereotypical-artist,’ Jenna agreed. ‘Though I like the boots. And the shirt. And the trousers. Turn around for a minute, will you?’
‘What, so you can check out my arse?’
Jenna smirked. That had been her exact reasoning. Alfonso didn’t look exactly averse to the idea either.
But Jason had hidden himself behind the screen again.
‘I’m not coming out until you give me something decent to wear,’ he threatened.
‘OK, seriously now,’ said Alfonso, returning to his racks. ‘I think we need a few different outfits that can be mixed and matched – blended into each other. This is just an idea – I can’t give you these clothes, but I can tell you where to get them. First of all, a really good formal suit but with a twist. Something to express your essential subversion, but in a non-threatening way.’
He brought out a slim-fitting, single-breasted jacket with narrow lapels and a pair of matching trousers – not skinny jeans by any means, but certainly tight enough to define the legs.
‘Get hold of those. You can put the trousers on for now – you can wear all kinds of things with that jacket. You can wear jeans with it for a TV interview, the suit trousers and a white shirt for a gallery opening, a patterned shirt for a date, a plain T-shirt for something more informal . . . so many different ways to style it.’
‘OK,’ said Jason, warily grateful. ‘It’s not too bad. Simple.’
‘Yes, I thought simple would work. You don’t need dressing up, really. People will be looking at your face, and taking in your body. The clothes are just icing on a rather scrummy cake.’
Jenna shook her head, smiling. Did Alfonso have a crush?
‘Here,’ he said, passing things to Jason behind the screen. ‘This shirt – never mind if you don’t love the pattern, it’s just to give you an idea. Put a handkerchief in your top pocket and do up your jacket button if you want to look dandyish. And, of course, you can say so many things with your hair . . .’
‘Like, “cut me”?’ suggested Jason.
‘People expect long hair on an artist, don’t they?’ said Alfonso indulgently. ‘Oh. Shoes.’
He scuttled off again, returning with a handful of shiny leather and casual dark canvas.
When Jason stepped out a third time, Jenna rose to her feet and said, ‘Oh, well, NOW . . .’ before running out of breath.
He looked effortlessly elegant and yet also a little bit dangerous. His silhouette was lean and sharp with the jacket done up, but also raffish and sexy with the white shirt beneath undone to reveal a glimpse of chest.
‘Oh God, you are hot.’ Alfonso clapped his hands. ‘Seriously. You look like you mean business.’
‘But not in a corporate way,’ Jenna hastened to reassure him. ‘No tie, no tight collars. In an art-world way. You do look really . . .’ She winked, and he brightened, losing the self-conscious glower that had hung about his face.
‘Fuckable?’ he said hopefully.
Alfonso clapped again.
‘Believe it,’ he purred.