Nervously, I follow her down a corridor and into a room.
“Take a seat. So, what are we doing today?”
“My nails…they’re kind of a mess.”
“Okay. Can I see?”
I realize that I’m sitting on my hands again. “Sorry.” I give a nervous laugh. Then, I pull my hands up and rest them on the table in front of me.
She doesn’t seem appalled, which is a good thing. Either that, or she’s really good at masking her disgust.
“I’m a mechanic,” I explain.
She nods.
“And I bite my nails,” I carry on awkwardly. “But I have somewhere special to be tonight, and I need them to look nice…if possible.”
“Don’t you worry. I’ll have your nails looking amazing in no time.”
One hour and thirty minutes later, I walk out of the salon, feeling like a new woman. Well, a new hand woman, that is.
They feel so soft, and my nails are painted blood red, a darker shade than my dress, which Alma said would complement it. She did something called a paraffin wax on my hands to help soften the skin. I’ve never heard of it before, but I want to have one done every day. So relaxing. While I was waiting for the paraffin wax to work its magic, Alma gave me a pedicure, so my toes now match my fingers.
I’m a girl almost ready to go. Just the rest of me to sort out now.
Letting myself into our hotel room, I drop my bag on my bed and flash my nails at Petra.
“Very nice. Right, get yourself in the shower and wash your hair, and I’ll fix it up for you and put your face on.”
“Not a lot of makeup though.” It’s not really me.
“I’ll keep it light. You don’t need a lot.”
“What about my hair?”
She stares at me for a long moment. “With that dress, I’d normally say up, but you never have your hair down, so I think you should wear it long with loose waves.”
“You’re the boss,” I say with a wave of my hand. Grabbing my toothbrush, I drop some paste on it and start scrubbing my teeth. “Are you going out tonight?” I call from the bathroom.
“Yeah, gonna go out for a beer later with the boys,” she calls back.
I spit and rinse. Shutting the bathroom door, I hop in the shower.
Half an hour later, I’m shaved to within an inch of my life. Legs, bikini, and underarms are all baby smooth. I dry off and apply my body lotion. Then, I pull on some shorts and a tank.
I come out of the bathroom with a towel on my head. “I’m all yours.”
I pick my phone up, and I sit down at our makeshift dressing table, which is actually a desk with a mirror propped against it, and I check my messages.
There’s one from Carrick.
How did the shopping go?
I got a dress and shoes. ?
Glad to hear it. I’ll pick you up at 7:30 p.m.
See you then. x
I hit Send before I realize that I put a kiss at the end. Why did I do that? Oh God, what if he gets the wrong idea and thinks— Oh, whatever, I really need to stop worrying and just enjoy myself.
“Ready?” Petra stands behind me with a hairdryer in one hand and a makeup bag in the other.
“Ready.” I smile back.
“What do you think?”
“Petra…I love it.” I smile back at my reflection, touching a hand to my hair.
She has done an amazing job. My hair is in loose waves down my back, and my makeup is neutral and pretty.
“Are you professionally trained?” I ask her.
“No, but my mum is a stylist. You pick things up.”
My mother’s a model, and the only thing I picked up was her good genes.
“Well, thank you, Petra’s mum. Actually, what time is it?” I glance at my phone. “Shit! It’s twenty past seven. Carrick will be here in ten minutes.”
Grabbing the dress and my new underwear set, I go into the bathroom.
Yes, I bought new underwear. Petra talked me into it. She said I needed it to go with the dress. It’s red and pretty, tasteful and not slutty—not that anyone but me will be seeing it.
Ripping the tags from the bra and knickers, I quickly put them on. Then, I slip into the dress, pulling the zipper up as far as I can.
I come out of the bathroom. “Petra, can you zip me up the rest of the way?”
I move my hair over my shoulder, out of the way, while Petra zips me up, and I put on the earrings I bought.
“Done.”
“Thanks.” I grab my perfume and spritz myself with it.
“Shoes.” She hands them over.
I slip my feet into them, taking a moment to steady my balance. We went for three-inch heels—I talked her down from four—but I still feel like a giant.
“Do I look too tall?”
“You look stunning.” Taking me by the shoulders, she turns me to the mirror.
Wow. Is that me? I look good—no, not good. I look hot. I look like my mother when she was my age.
I smile at Petra in the mirror. “Thanks for your help. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.” My eyes catch on the necklace that Carrick bought me.
No matter how much I love it, I can’t turn up at a fancy party wearing a Lightning McQueen necklace. I don’t want to embarrass Carrick. Unclipping it, I carefully place it in my vanity bag for safekeeping.
There’s a knock at the door. I glance back at it, butterflies swooping full-force into my stomach.
“You want me to get it, or you?” Petra asks.
“You. Me.”
“Any decision on that?”
I take a deep breath. “I’ll get it.” I walk the short distance across our room to the door, my hands trembling a little. I’m surprised at how nervous I am. I feel like it’s a first date.
Not a date, Andi. Just two friends going out together.
Hand curled around the handle, I pull it open.
Carrick. Holy shit. He looks…amazing. Gorgeous. He’s wearing a tux. Jesus, my ovaries have just started doing cartwheels, and I’m pretty sure that I’ve just ruined my new undies.
“Fuck…” he breathes. “You look…” He slowly shakes his head. “Actually, there aren’t any words to describe how you look right now.”
Okay…
“So, is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?” I fidget nervously, smoothing a hand down my dress.
“Every fuck is a good fuck, Andressa—at least with me it is.”
His eyes do that lazy perusal of me that has me hot in all the right places. When they meet back with mine, they are…blazing hot.
“It’s a really, really good fuck. Put it this way, every man in the room—actually, every man in the world is gonna wish they were me tonight.”
“Really?” I blush.
He steps closer, his fingers skimming my jaw. “Really. You look stunning, Andressa. Absolutely stunning.”
My blush deepens at his compliment. And my jaw is still tingling from where he just touched me.
“You ready to go? I have a car waiting downstairs.”
“Uh, yeah, I just need my clutch.”
As I turn, I find Petra behind me, clutch in hand.
“Thanks.” I smile, taking it from her.
“Hi, Carrick.” There’s a grin in her voice.
I give her a look before turning back to him.
“Petra,” he says.
“I’ll see you later,” I say to her, stepping out into the hallway.