"That one, definitely that one," Jenelle said, sprawled across the mattress, half-finished bottle of wine in hand. She'd made it back to Eva's in a record thirty minutes, arms loaded with a variety of other goodies and champagne. Because, according to Jenelle, this was a day worthy of celebration.

Turning back to the mirror, Eva ran her hands over slinky blue fabric that hugged, cupped, molded and caressed every inch of her body like a lover's hands. The colour was perfect for her olive complexion, and brought out the natural amber undertones of her eyes, turning them to molten gold.

"You don't think it's too...much for dinner?"

"Not at all," Jenelle dismissed with a swig of frothy bubbles. "Look what it does to your legs."

The short hemline made them appear longer, Eva thought, angling herself to the left and then to the right, checking the front and the back. Clearly all those early mornings of Yoga paid off, and then some.

"These shoes will complete the look," Jenelle instructed, rifling through to find a sexy pair of nude pumps, the soles a shade of sensual red.

"We don't wear the same size."

"Those are too small for me. I didn't know when I snatched them off a clearance rack that Louboutins run smaller than standard sizing. Otherwise I'd never part with them. I'd even contemplated losing a toe or hacking off a bit of heel," she joked. "Alas, they were at least pretty to look at."

"Didn't you stop to try them on before buying them?" Eva chided, slipping them on to find they fit snug, though dangerously high for someone who never wore heels.

"See, told you. The nude makes them disappear so you see nothing but leg. Gorgeous. You're wearing them," she said with a wave of bottle like a fairy godmother's magic wand.

Turning back to the mirror, Eva had to agree the overall effect was stunning. The last time she'd worn something like this...Eva frowned, actually, she'd never worn something like this.

She hadn't cared enough to try and dress up for Nate, and the brief time she'd been with Randy, Eva hadn't been brave enough to try.

"What's in these?" Because her toes were beginning to ache, Eva toed off the pumps and stooped to dig through one of a dozen bags Jenelle had brought back with her. And found wispy bits of silk and lace.

"They're all new. Still with the tags on," Jenelle assured, setting the bottle down on the nightstand next to the stemware she hadn't bothered to use.

"But there's..." Eva dug through the bag, counted, "at least a dozen, or more."

"What can I say? I'm a lingerie hoarder. And most of those are Parisian. Treat them with respect."

Lifting out a string black thong, Eva strung it between her fingers. The material was thin enough she could read a book through it. "When do you find the time to wear all of this?"

Smiling like a cat with many secrets, Jenelle shrugged. "With the right man it doesn't have to stay on for long. Just enough to knock him dead so you can bring him back to life."

Eva folded the negligee back into the bag, tied it shut. "And who am I supposed to do all that with?"

"My brother, of course. Come on, Eva. Tell me you're not thinking about jumping Marshall?"

Clearing her throat, Eva turned around. "I'm not, or wasn't...until recently. But tomorrow is just dinner, and who's to say we're going to take it anywhere after that? We could get to the restaurant and realize we have nothing in common, or misread the chemistry and that the kiss was an aberration-"

"Whoa," Jenelle swiped a hand through the air, "you guys kissed? And I'm only hearing about it now? Not cool, Eva. Details." 

"You seriously want to hear all this?"

"Every word," she said, sitting straight and crossing her legs. "Dish, and make it good."

Eva thought she'd dance around the events, highlighting from arm's length, but even now, three days later, the memory was every bit as sharp and vivid as the experience had been. From the cool wet sand and the all-consuming heat of his mouth, the firm hard lines of his body and, of course, those hands!

Eva closed her eyes on a shiver, and opened them to find Jenelle smiling.

"Aww," she sighed, "you really like him."

Warmth bloomed in her cheeks, flushed down her neck to her arms. "You don't mind?"

"Are you kidding? Why would I mind? How long has it been since you last...you know?" she asked with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. Sitting down next to her, Eva hung her head.

"No one since that British marketing guy from last summer. The one we met at the sports bar."

"Trey? That guy?"

Eva nodded.

"You haven't had sex in eleven months?"

"Thirteen," Eva sighed, remembering that weekend fondly. Trey was a forty year old swarthy Italian with blue eyes. He'd been passing through with a colleague, enjoying a bit of local flair after closing a successful account in BC. They'd enjoyed a couple of beers, an easy conversation about soccer and one steamy, no-strings night in his hotel room.

He'd been nice, she thought. And more important, he'd been temporary. Both he and his colleague checking out for an early Monday morning flight back to the UK. Never to be seen or heard from again.

"Good grief." Jenelle shuddered in abject horror. "In that case I encourage you wholeheartedly to jump my brother. If that's what it takes to get you out of this dateless, sexless slump you've been in, have at him."

"Gee, thanks. So kind and generous of you."

"Yes, darling. That I am. Shall I babysit the girls and have a sleepover?"

"I've already called in for a nanny," Eva said. "With the understanding that things may run a little...late."

Jenelle snorted a giggle. "Bravo. Fortune favours the bold my dear. Now, on to the best part..." Reaching between them was a makeup bag full of unused product. She unzipped the top, wiggled excited fingers.

"This would look killer with that dress," she said, lifting up a couple of shades of shadow. "You have the kind of eyes made for drama. A blacked-out smoky eye would be pure sex in the back of a Cadillac on you. Unfortunately that's not really my forte, but maybe we could play around a bit..."

While Jenelle rooted around, muttering and talking to herself, Eva looked down at the contents, and a familiar pull tugged in her belly. Maybe it was the wine, or all the dressing up, but a bit of her old self peaked through and sighed wistfully.

Estée Lauder, Clinique, Lancôme and Bobbi Brown. All my old friends.

"Let's take this to the bathroom," Eva suggested, and led Jenelle to the en-suite where she coaxed her to sit on the edge of the tub.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me." Eva smiled, and went to work. Amazing how it all snapped right back. The brushes, the shades and tones, the powders and lotions. Weeding through, Eva found three different shades of blush, some bronzer, a collection of brushes, two types of 'endless' mascara and sixteen tubes of lipstick ranging from demurest nude to come-hither red.

"Do you think you're going to sleep with Marshall tomorrow?" Jenelle asked as Eva got herself sorted.

"Not sure. Depends, I guess, on how things go at dinner. It's complicated." Dangerous. Angling Jenelle's face into the light, the subtle rose and cream of her skin begged for the bold and lush warmth of sage greens and golden browns.

"You know he's leaving in August," she said, circling her fingers around Eva's wrist in measured concern. 

Eva's smile softened. "I'll be fine. Promise. Now sit still."

She worked quickly, competently, following her natural contouring and colours to enhance an already a remarkable specimen. And Jenelle stayed dutifully still, her face registering only the barest hint of a smile.

Studying the final result, Eva smiled. Damn, I still got it. "Want to see?" And stepped back so she could take in her reflection.

Stunned, Jenelle framed her face with her hands, taking in the spectacular results. "Where did you learn to do this?"

"I was a makeup artist," Eva said, cleaning up the scattered brushes, wiping off the excess on a towel before storing them back in the cute little professional case. 

"You?" Jenelle's laughter rang out, sharp and bright and full of amazed disbelief.  "When? Where?"

In another life. When I was someone else...Eva stroked a hand over a palate of eye shadow of smoky plum and satin taupe. "Doesn't matter. It was only job."

"But you hate makeup."

"I don't hate it," Eva corrected, packing everything away into the sleek carrying case. "I just prefer not to wear it. All that time standing in front of a mirror, slapping on this, that and the other. Before you know it you're afraid to leave your house without mascara or be seen sans lipstick." And cast Jenelle a pointed smirk as she continued to primp and pose in the mirror.

"God, it's a shame we can't go out tonight and show off my new face. No. Keep it," Jenelle said when Eva moved to return the make up to her. "I'm a total klepto as is and these were all free samples and sale binges. I've got drawers and drawers of this and more at home."

"Hells bells, woman. I'm never going to use all of this stuff."

Blowing kisses at her reflection, tossing her hair, Jenelle beamed. "Never say never."