Dianne looked at me appraisingly. "She's right, Bel. It's you, and yet it's a whole new you."

"You're still winding me up, aren't you?" I said.

"Well, yes, but it *is* lovely."

"How did he find out?" Cath asked, breathless.

"What did he say?" I asked. "Is he angry? What did Gillian say? Did we lose the account?"

Dianne's eyebrow went up even as the corners of her lips went down. She glanced at Carole expectantly. Carole's eyes grew large as teacups, then she exclaimed, "Oh! Yes! Right!"

I was puzzled. Dianne gave Carole a nudge, and Carole began, "See, Gillian said that... I mean, not Gillian. Roger. Right: Roger called and he asked for..." She stopped, and looking lost, glanced at Dianne for guidance, then rolled her eyes with a grimace.

"Oh, you silly cow!" Dianne said. "I knew you'd bollocks it!"

"Sorry!" Carole told her, and then pleading, said, "I couldn't remember!"

Cathy twigged. "It's all a joke then, isn't it?"

"It's obvious now, isn't it? Blondes!" Then, touching my arm, she added, "Not you, dear!" Somehow I wasn't reassured.

Carole covered her mouth, giggling. "Yes, sorry. And, oh, Bel: your hair looks really lovely."

Dianne shook her head in mock disgust at Carole, then looked at me appraisingly. "She's right, Bel. It's you, and yet it's a whole new you."

"You're still winding me up, aren't you?" I said.

"Well, yes, but it *is* lovely."

"And here's the inspiration," Cathy told them, pulling out the copy of Vogue with a great flourish.

"Look at that, will you!" Carole exclaimed.

"You're moving by leaps and bounds, Bel," Dianne commented with a smirk. "First you've conquered Roger Donaldson, and now the world of fashion. Perhaps we ought to send a copy of that picture to Roger before the dinner. Prime the pump, so to speak."

"Don't you dare!" I warned her, though I knew there was little I could do to stop her if she really meant to do it... Not that I really believed she would, I think.

"Don't worry, Bel," she laughed. "I don't think you need a leg up there, girl. You're in like Flynn already!"

"Did you get all the things on my list?" Carole asked. "I can do Bel's makeup and nails, if you like. The two of you will have quite enough to do already."

"Carole, you're a godsend," Dianne said. "I'm sorry I called you a silly cow earlier. It was quite uncalled for. True though." That last mumbled with a big smirk as Carole slapped her arm in retaliation while trying not to smile.

"I'm off home, then," Cathy said. "Unless I'm needed?"

"No," Dianne replied. "Off you go. We've got it all sorted. Right then, let's go, you two."
 

At Dianne's I took a quick shower, being ever so careful not to get my hair wet.

Dianne was waiting at the bathroom door. "About time!" she said. "I've laid out some things for you on the bed. Once you've put them on, Carole can get to work. Have you ever put on stockings?"

When I blushed, her eyebrow rose. "Oh, it's like that, is it?"

"No, I... really," I said, and heard Carole giggle in the next room.

"Shouldn't we give a quick try to the dress?" Carole asked. "If it doesn't fit, we're sunk, aren't we?"

"Right, right!" Dianne agreed, and bustled me into her bedroom. She dove into her closet, arms raised, shoving clothes back and forth until at last...

"Here it is!" she cried. "Slip it on as you are, just to try."

She stood there, expectantly.

"Could I have a bit of privacy?" I asked.

She considered a moment, then said, "All right. But be quick about it."

She went out, closing the door behind her. The moment my towel hit the floor, she began opening it again, calling, "Are you ready yet?"

"No!" I shouted.

"Just teasing!" she called.

"Well, shut the door then, teasing!"

I lay the dress on the bed and looked at it. "Do I put it on over my head?"

"No, dear, you step into it."

I stepped in and slid it up my body.

"Need help with the zip?" Dianne called.

"No... maybe. Er... yes!"

Dianne stepped into the room, followed by Carole. "Ooh," Carole said. "Vintage, is it?"

"Yes. It's lovely, isn't it? I couldn't wear it, though. My boobs didn't fit, but I think it'll do for our Bel."

"So you never wore it?" Carole asked.

"No," Dianne replied. "You can see, it is a bit much."

"A bit much?" I repeated. "So am I going to look a bit much?"

"No, on you it's fine. Let's see how it works with your boobies." She fished the breasts Paul had made out of the carrier bag and slipped them into the front of the dress.

"Will you look at that?" Carole exclaimed. "Bel, it's you! With the stockings, shoes, and makeup, you'll— oh! Earrings, Dianne! She hasn't got earrings!"

Dianne frowned. "We'll sort that out later, if at all. I've got to get into the shower. Bel, out of the dress, and into the things on the bed. Then let Carole do her magic."
 

After hacking at my cuticles and filing the living crap out of my nails, Carole painted them a deep red. "I think we can do without your toenails this time, unless you think someone will be seeing your naked feet," she teased.

I blushed, and she smiled. "I have to say, Bill, you're being an awfully good sport about this whole thing."

"I don't see that I have much choice," I said. "Once I got out of bed this morning, everything's gone against me."

"Has it?" she said. "You won a new client for the firm, got your raise, and it seems as though Gillian's taken you under her wing."

"Has she?" I asked.

She clicked her tongue affirmatively, and finished painting my left thumbnail. "Now don't move your hands, whatever you do! I don't want to start over."

We were sitting at Dianne's kitchen table, and the dress was hanging in the doorway. As Carole arranged her... my cosmetics on the table, I looked the dress over. I really didn't like it. It looked old-timey to me. Vintage meant "old." It was black, dark silk with a dull shine. The skirt had ruffley bits hanging down in shades of gray. When I'd tried the dress on, I could see why Dianne didn't wear it. The top was tight, almost constrictive, and there was black lace on the shoulders that just looked stupid to me.

"Carole?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me the truth. Will I look stupid in that dress?"

"No," she said. "It's lovely on you. You'll be smashing."

"Dianne said it was too much, though."

"Too much for her, yes, but you can pull it off. You have that... oh, dear. Can I tell you? You have that pretty... oh, Billy, sometimes you're almost angelic. You know? If you could see yourself! You have the look of the innocent waif. I'm afraid you can wear a lot of things that really wouldn't suit Dianne. Or me, for that matter, even though our coloring's so close. So don't worry about the dress."
 

I confess I did enjoy having Carole do my makeup. It would have looked a strange scene, I'm sure: me, sitting in Diane's kitchen chair, wearing a black bra and panties and black thigh-high stockings, covered (for modesty's sake) in one of Diane's black slips. "You'll take that off before putting the dress on," she'd told me. "That dress doesn't need a slip."

Carole worked silently and quickly, and every now and again I'd feel the gentle puff of air against my cheek as she exhaled. I very nearly said, "I wish you could do this for me every day," but managed to bite my tongue in time.

"Do you think you could do this yourself?" Carole asked, as if reading my mind.

"Dunno," I replied. "I guess I could learn if I had to."

"I was just thinking," she said. "If Roger comes for another meeting and you need to dress up, it would be handy if you could take care of yourself."

"I guess I could learn," I repeated.

Dianne walked in quietly as Carole was brushing my entire face with a big, soft brush. "Just a little powder," she said. "Ties it all together, softens it, cuts the shine."

"Oh, I thought shiny was good," I said.

"Oh, no, dear!"

Behind Carole, I heard the sound of Dianne tipping a bottle of liquid. "What's that?" Carole asked.

"Peroxide," Dianne said. "I'm just cleaning the hooks and needle. Are you nearly done there?"

"Yes," said Carole, stepping back.

I expected a comment or a compliment from Dianne when I opened my eyes. Instead, I saw her intently inspecting my ears while she clutched a cotton swab in one hand, and something I couldn't see in the other.

"What do you mean, 'needle'?" I asked.

Dianne's mouth twitched. "I have a great big needle here, full of girly hormones, Bel. Tomorrow you're going to wake up with a lovely pair of breasts, you'll see!"

"No!" I cried, "You can't!"

Dianne took a step back and regarded me with curiosity. "As if I would! As if I could! Where do you think I'd get hormones from, and do you honestly think I'd do such a thing to you?"

I didn't want to answer.

"I'm just going to pierce your ears so I can hang some earrings on that silly head of yours." She opened her right hand and showed me an open safety pin.

"All right, Billy, hold very still. It's been a while since I've done this, but I'm sure it's like riding a bicycle." She squeezed my earlobe experimentally, then swabbed it with peroxide.

"Oh, you're not going to—" was all I managed to say before Dianne poked me with the pin and pushed an earring into my left ear.

"Right. Holding still, Billy, holding very still..." and she repeated the process on the right.

"Well done!" she declared, straightening up. "Now on with the dress! The car will be here any moment."

I asked for a little privacy, but my request fell on deaf ears. The two of them lifted the slip off over my head, carefully avoiding all the work done on my hair and face. Then they helped me step into the dress. Dianne zipped it up, adjusted it with a tug here and there, and said, "Bel, you're beautiful! Roger will throw himself at your feet!"

"Um, yes, well, that reminds me," I said, "I'm going to sit at the far end of the table from Roger."

"If you can," Dianne replied, with a mischievous smile. "He's the host. I expect he'll be seating us where he'd like us to be."

I had just opened my mouth to speak, when a car horn sounded outside.

"What wonderful timing!" Carole declared. "Your chariot awaits! I'll come out with you and console myself with something on the telly. I'll want a full report tomorrow!"

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

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