“Purse, damn you!” said Jasmine.
Unbidden, Connor’s face swam into my mind and I felt my mouth change. I assumed my jaw was hanging open at the shock of it.
“Perfect,” announced Jasmine, and I felt her go to work with the lipstick.
I tried to push Connor out of my mind, but he refused to move. It’s just because you’ve been so focused on him, I told myself. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Done!” said Jasmine, and stepped back. Relieved, I opened my eyes. Clarissa was blowing frantically on my nails to dry them.
“Can I have a mirror now?” I asked.
“One more thing. Get the dress!” Jasmine was barely restraining herself from clapping her hands together and jumping up and down.
Clarissa went to fetch it, and Jasmine demanded that I close my eyes.
“Oh, come on,” I said weakly, but closed them. They stood me up and hands removed my dressing gown. Then they were stepping my feet into the thing and wriggling it up my hips. I was bundled through to my bedroom.
“There,” said Jasmine. “Open them.”
I opened my eyes.
People sometimes say I didn’t recognize myself, but it’s usually an exaggeration. This wasn’t.
I’d never seen myself with perfectly straight hair before. Without all the curls and frizz I looked somehow sleeker and more sophisticated. More feminine, in a way. My face was actually on show, instead of being hidden behind a thick curtain.
I had mixed feelings about that. I liked that curtain.
Suddenly, I had cheekbones, a gentle brush of color giving me the elegance I’d never had. Jasmine had worked subtle magic with my eyes to make them look huge. And my lips, normally pressed thin with worry, were plumped up and shining. I don’t know if they were kissable but they at least looked like lips someone might contemplate kissing.
I was bare all the way down to below my shoulders, the dress having no visible means of support. It was square across the neckline and gave me a hint of cleavage. Glossy fabric the color of fine wine hugged me down to my thighs and managed to make even my modest legs look long.
“It’s gorgeous,” I said weakly. “Thank you. All of you.”
“Wait till you get the heels on,” Jasmine told me.
I had a feeling she didn’t mean my usual ones. “Oh, no….” I said weakly.
But she was back in minutes with the Heels of Death from my wardrobe. They were stilettos, and I’d worn them only once after being talked into buying them by Jasmine. On that occasion I’d toppled sideways, not six feet from the door of my building, and very nearly gone under a bus—hence the name.
“It’s easy,” said Jasmine. “They’re only four inches. They’re basically flats.” She showed me the five-inchers she’d be wearing herself.
I would have protested, but Natasha was already strapping one on while Clarissa did the other. They had me walk—well, totter—up and down the lounge.
“Keep your eyes on a point at the end of the room,” Clarissa said. “Imagine you’re on a catwalk.”
“Plant your feet with more confidence,” Natasha told me.
“Let your ass sway,” said Jasmine. “I don’t get it. In the movies, the geeky heroine always gets the hang of it in a few minutes.”
“That’s a training montage, you idiot,” I said between gritted teeth. I went sideways and had to grab for the table, and the shock of it made me finally snap. “This is ridiculous!” I told them. “Why are you even doing all this? I’m not stupid—why the dress and the heels and the makeover? What’s going on?”
They all looked at me guiltily.
“It was after you got…upset about the recital,” Natasha told me. “We were worried about you. We thought maybe you needed a day off, away from music.”
“We thought…I don’t know. Maybe if you went to the party and met someone…we just want you to be happy.”
They all looked at me hopefully and I felt awful. All they were trying to do was help.
“Let me have another go in the heels,” I said tiredly. They all cheered.
“I’ll put on Eye of the Tiger,” said Jasmine.
***
I’d met Darrell quite a few times, when he came to Fenbrook to pick up Natasha. But unlike the others, I’d never actually been to the mansion. As the cab pulled up with a crunch of gravel, they all climbed out without a thought and I was left dumbstruck in the back seat.
Three floors. Too many windows to count. A gravel driveway that was already filling up with sports cars. A water feature big enough to swim in. The front door was open, the men silhouetted by the warm light inside as they came out to meet their women. First Darrell’s tall, muscled body, his well-cut suit doing nothing to hide his strong shoulders and forearms. I remembered Natasha telling us how he’d caught her when she’d fallen from the stage, and I could imagine it.