Page 42 of Perfect Assumption

I fling open my door with a mumbled “Thanks” before leaping out.

* * *

Several hours later,just before Ward is supposed to join us, I finally begin to understand what Carys meant about my looks. And I’m both terrified to the core and exhilarated by the woman reflected in the mirror.

After dragging me into the guest room, oohing and ahhing over my dress, then muttering under her breath about how she wished she had a head of hair like mine, Carys disappeared for a moment, leaving me stunned. She came back, ordered me to strip, and shoved a glass of wine in my hand.

I found it prudent to let her know, “You’re terrifying the hell out of me.”

She said, “I need to send your clothes to the cleaners so they’re ready for work tomorrow. I’ll find something for you to sleep in.” She moved over to the closet and pulled out a plush robe.

“Phew. I was beginning to get scared.” I started unbuttoning my suit jacket before frowning. “Can I have a little privacy for this?”

“Oops. I’m too used to the men around here randomly stripping.”

Don’t go there, I told myself. But I couldn’t not say, “The image of my cordial, funny co-worker in a contest against his two-year-old to strip their clothes at the end of the day is endlessly amusing.”

She grinned. “It’s not that far from the truth. Now, let me skedaddle for a second. Leave everything on the bed, including intimates.”

I quickly changed into the robe. Carys knocked before coming back in. “All set?”

“I am.” I nodded to the bundle of clothes. “Just let me know how much I owe you.”

She snorted. “Please. We’re charging all of this to Becks including your dress.”

I shook my head. “No. Not that. It’s too much. I won’t let a man buy something like that for me.”

Carys studied me for a moment. “All right. Not the dress.” Then she caught sight of the clock. “We’re running late! You have to get into the shower.”

She pointed me in the direction of her guest bathroom. “Don’t get your hair wet. We don’t have time to dry it!”

“Oh, okay?” But I snagged my wine and took a large gulp of a delicious cabernet sauvignon before doing as she dictated.

I now understand why women take hours to get ready for a special night out. Carys sprayed and spritzed me with my head upside down until I was dizzy. Then she twisted my hair, fluffed, and pulled before adding a shield to my head. “Ahh-choo!” I sneeze to the side.

She paused in her merciless attack with an aerosol can. “Too much?”

“I’d have no idea.” I reached up and touched my hair only to find it was like a helmet. “Is it supposed to feel like it won’t move until next year?”

She nodded and put the can away before turning toward my makeup. That’s when I knew my punishment in this life was just beginning. I was plucked, brushed, smeared, and smoothed until I was certain I’d shed a new skin layer. “Look down. Now look up. To the right. God, I’d kill for these lashes.”

“I think you’re trying to,” I muttered.

And the blonde witch just laughed and said, “Just wait until you see the whole effect with the dress.”

After allowing me to attach my own tape and slide into the microscopic thong, I wiggled my way into the dress. Carys during that time ran into her own room for shoes and jewelry. “I was thinking less is more…” But she became very quiet, just handing me a pair of large gold hoop earrings and gold sandals with a pencil-thin heel, an ankle strap, and a familiar red sole any female who has read a glossy fashion magazine in the last twenty years recognizes.

“They cost more than the dress,” I wheezed before trying to shove them back in her hand.

Carys shook her head and just said, “They’re perfect.”

And she was right. They are.

In the full-length mirror, my entire appearance has been transformed. Up close, my skin appears translucent, my lips simply glossier. But my eyes have been made to be smokier, more mysterious.

I step back and take in my full appearance.

If you didn’t know who I was, I could easily pass for someone else. The thought makes my stomach churn. How much of my own pain have I held on to because I couldn’t let go of the past?And why did I have to realize it long after Grandma was gone?