Chapter 18

After Anissa had amassed a collection of clothes, it was time to shop for other stuff. Shoes, socks, even underwear. Dave refused to help with that one. She took pity on him and patted him on the shoulder. "I will manage."

He ducked over to menswear to grab a new sweater for himself. Fuck, it was a party after all. When he went back to get Anissa, he tried not to look at the colorful jumble of lace she dumped into the cart. The cosmetic aisles were much the same. He knew she needed shampoo, deodorant and makeup, but the details were a total mystery to him. They'd never been able to afford much of that stuff when David and Jenna had lived with their mom.

She frowned in the bath products aisle. "What is wrong with the soap and shampoo I used last night?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Did you like it?" The thought of her using his stuff was oddly arousing. He'd never had a relationship get that intimate.

"It was fine. These lotions to moisturize the skin. May I get one of those?"

"Pick whatever you want." He watched while she checked the fragrances of several, glaring at anyone who looked like they might ask her to stop. Nobody did.

Then they got to make up. All he could do here was throw up his hands and shrug. His little Djinni was smart, though. She studied the displays and watched the people who walked by. Then she started reading product labels. Pretty soon there was a small, surprisingly small, pile of colorful packets in the cart. "That will do," she announced with a crisp nod. "I saw a program on the television about face paint. I shall not embarrass you in front of your friends."

"Sweetheart, you wouldn't do that if you were wearing a clown suit and a red rubber nose." Of course, he didn't think she needed the makeup anyway but she'd looked like she was having fun picking it out, so he didn't say anything. To his mind, she was gorgeous enough without it.

After checking out, he bundled the huge pile of bags into the back of the Jeep, then climbed in alongside Anissa, who was flipping through a fashion magazine they'd picked up a the checkout counter. "Okay, we need to grab lunch on the way home, since we killed off the leftovers last night. You have a favorite food?"

She titled her head to look up at him sideways. "If you continue feeding me, I am going to be too fat to wear the clothing you purchased. What is it about you and food?"

He shrugged. "I know what it feels like to go without it, that's all."

"I can make you wealthy, you know. According to the television, there is a lottery in this state. All you have to do is wish and it can be yours." Her tone was speculative and he wondered briefly if she was testing him. She could try. He wasn't going to use his wishes for himself.

"I have plenty of money." More than he could figure out how to spend. He'd done very well with investing, aside from what he made teaching and writing video games with Eric and a few others.

"So why is there no furniture in your house?"

He laughed. "Because I just moved in and haven't had time to go shopping yet."

"Oh." She turned back to her magazine. Since she hadn't specified a food type, Dave decided to go with easy, since time was getting tight and he had no earthly idea how long it would take her to get ready for a party. Besides, he wanted to see her face when she discovered the concept of a burger joint drive through.

Two hours later, Anissa cast a critical gaze over her reflection in the bath chamber off David's bedroom. Stars, she hoped she had done this correctly. She had had masters take her out and show her off before but never on her first day in a new century. And she had never cared before what they thought of her.

She had the fashion magazine spread open on the bathroom counter as she tried to brush her hair into some semblance of order and secure it with the black velvet bow she had selected to match the skirt. She'd used makeup in the 1920s, and after experimentation, she didn't think it was much different almost a century later. The makeup that was shown in the magazine was much more pronounced than what she had seen on the women in the store, so she opted for the simpler look, just using a little violet powder labeled eye shadow, a kohl-like eyeliner pencil and a sparkly pink lipstick. The professor was too important to risk embarrassing.

Her head was still in a whirl over him. He was not what she had been expecting for a champion but she was beginning to come to grips with the notion that he could very well be. He certainly seemed to think so and he did not even know about her vision. Or about what his presence did to her body.

"You almost ready in there?" She heard him from out in the hall, through the closed door of his bedroom. He had gathered some supplies and retreated to his guest bathroom to dress, a gesture that had touched Anissa more than she liked to admit.

"Just a moment." She turned from side to side to study her reflection in the huge mirror, then nodded. It would have to do. Her only jewelry was the silver hoop earrings and belled anklet from her dancing costume but they seemed to go with the outfit she had chosen. She tugged the sleeves of the purple knit blouse lower on her shoulders, adjusting the shoulder straps to cover the straps of her black lacy brassiere. Underwear in this century was more like her dancer's garb than anything she had worn in public before but the soft silky fabric felt good against her skin, as did the sheer black pantyhose that covered her legs beneath the tiny black skirt.

She clicked off the bathroom light and stepped out in the bedroom to put on her shoes. "You may come in now."

The door to the hallway opened and Anissa stopped and stared with her shoe halfway to her foot, dumbfounded by the man who stepped into the room. Who was this and what had he done to her master?