Vicious Carousel (Suncoast Society #25)(31)

She started feeling the beginnings of her returning.

Ted was still trying to get in touch with his friends about taking her on as a client. But meanwhile, he wanted to see her back there on Thursday at ten, an appointment Tilly assured him would be kept, even if someone else had to bring her.

Tilly went with her to the restroom to help her wash her face and reapply the concealer and powder. With the hat and glasses back in position, her disguise was once more complete.

“How’s this?” Betsy asked her.

Tilly hugged her. “I think in a couple of weeks you’ll look almost normal again and maybe even start feeling that way a little.”

She drove Betsy to the mall close to Nolan and Kenny’s house. Tilly started them at an Old Navy for some basics for Betsy, including shorts, slacks, jeans, a couple of casual sundresses, and blouses. Then Tilly, who wouldn’t let Betsy carry the bags, led her to a high-end department store, where Tilly started finding business clothes for her, then some nice bras and panties.

Betsy knew arguing would be pointless, so despite feeling guilty that her friend was spending the money on her, Betsy didn’t fight her, tried on everything Tilly shoved at her, spoke up when there was a color or style she didn’t really like…and said thank you.

A lot.

Tilly finished off the shopping trip at a shoe store, where she got Betsy three pairs of dressy flats, a pair of loafers, and two pairs of sandals.

“Now,” Tilly said, finally letting her carry a couple of shopping bags as they returned to her SUV, “we’re going to go home, you’re going to change from what you’re wearing into one of the outfits I just bought you, and we’re going work on your resume.”

“Why do I need to change?”

“You’re going to dress the part to get the part.”

“I should call the office I worked for, too.”

“We’ll do that first. After you change clothes.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Tilly smiled. “Well, I’m not your Domme, but I’ll let you call me that. I’d rather you do that if it makes you feel better.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, sweetie.” Her smile faded as she started the car. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be here talking to you right now if it wasn’t for friends.”





Chapter Eleven


While Betsy used the bathroom, Tilly laid an outfit out on the bed, including shoes. Betsy washed her hands and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Taking off the sunglasses and hat, she looked at the swollen shape of her right eye under the concealer. The bruising still painfully evident despite Tilly’s best efforts. The stitches, of course, still there.

But…

The hair. No, she hadn’t had it professionally colored when she was getting it cut. Sometimes she bought store color and did it when she noticed grey, but she had to admit she liked the look. It felt lighter, healthier, had shine and bounce and a little natural curl that had been missing for months as it grew longer, stragglier at the ends despite her trying to trim the dead ends herself when Jack wasn’t home to see her do it.

It was her hair.

Hers.

She reached up and fluffed it with her fingers in a way she hadn’t been able to do in months.

Familiar.

She fluffed it again, carefully shaking her head just a little, not enough to jostle her still-sore muscles.

The hint of a smile curved her lips. It did look good. It looked freaking amazing.

She went to the bedroom and Tilly helped her change clothes. Tilly let her leave off the bra, knowing she was still too sore to tolerate wearing it, but the slacks, blouse, blazer, and flats made her feel…

Normal.

She turned and looked in the mirror there as Tilly stood next to her. “That’s a pretty good-looking woman right there,” Tilly said to her reflection. “Wait until your outer bruises are healed up, and you’re going to be a knock-out.” Tilly winced. “Bad choice of words, sorry.”

That made Betsy smile, even though it hurt.

“You know what I see?” Tilly asked.

“What?”

“I see a woman reborn. Stronger, tougher, harder. In the good ways. Scarred in the painful ways, yeah. But that scarring will eventually let you take chances later on, safe chances, that will make you happy. Like calluses on your feet.”

“You think so?”

“Honey, been there, done that, got the T-shirt. I know where the landmines are because I laid those f*ckers with my own two hands.”

She turned to Betsy. “No, I can’t do the work for you. And no, my situation wasn’t exactly like yours. In some ways, mine was better, and in some ways, mine was worse. Doesn’t matter. But trust us to lead you through those damn landmines. We won’t carry you, but just keep up, walking with us, and we’ll get you safely through to the other side no matter how scary it feels at times. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Fortunately, the expected disappointment of her first phone call didn’t knock Betsy totally off her feet emotionally. Yes, obviously, her position had been filled. And no, unless Betsy had a real estate license, they didn’t have any other positions. But the agency’s owner did tell Betsy to list her as a reference in her job hunt, and asked for her e-mail address so she could send Betsy a letter of recommendation she could use in her job search.