Reflected in You(105)

"What are you going to have done?" Cary asked me, looking at me with a bunch of black goop smeared all over his face.


He was getting his hair trimmed in its usual sexily floppy style, and his toenails were being trimmed and filed into perfect rounded squares.


I licked the chocolate off my fingers and considered my answer.


The last time we'd had a spa date, I'd just agreed to have an affair with Gideon.


He and I were going on our first date, and I knew we'd be having sex.


I'd chosen a package designed for seduction, making my skin soft and fragrant with scents purported to have aphrodisiac properties.


Everything was different now.


In a way, I had a second chance to do things over.


The investigation into Nathan's death was a concern for us all, but the fact that he was gone from my life forever liberated me in a way I hadn't realized I'd needed.


Somewhere in the back of my mind, the fear must have been lurking there.


It was always a possibility that I could see him again as long as he was alive.


Now I was free.


I also had a new chance to embrace my New York life in a way I hadn't before.


I was accountable to no one.


I could go anywhere with anyone.


I could be anyone.


Who was the Eva Tramell who lived in Manhattan and had her dream job at an advertising agency? I didn't know yet.


Up until now, I'd been the San Diego transplant who got swept into the orbit of an enigmatic and incredibly powerful man.


That Eva was on Day Eight After Gideon: Round Two curled in a corner licking her wounds and would be for a long time.


Maybe forever, because I couldn't imagine that I'd ever fall in love again like I had with Gideon.


For better or worse, he was my soul mate.


The other half of me.


In many ways, he was my reflection.


"Eva?" Cary prodded, studying me.


"I want everything done," I said decisively.


"I want a new haircut.


Something short and flirty and chic.


I want my nails painted fire engine red -  fingers and toes.


I want to be a new Eva."


Cary's brows rose.


"Nails, yes.


Hair, maybe.


You shouldn't make sweeping decisions when you're f*cked up over a guy.


They come back to haunt you."


My chin lifted.


"I'm doing it, Cary Taylor.


You can either help or just shut up and watch."


"Eva!" My mother practically squealed.


"You're going to look amazing! I know just the thing to do with your hair.


You'll love it!" Cary's lips twitched.


"All righty, then, baby girl.


Let's see what New Eva looks like."


* * *


New Eva turned out to be a modern, slightly edgy sexpot.


My once long, straight blond hair was now shoulder length and cut in long layers, with platinum highlights sprinkled throughout and framing my face.


I'd had my makeup done, too, to see what sort of look I should pair with my new hairdo, and I learned that smoky gray for my eyes was the way to go, along with soft pink lip gloss.


In the end, I hadn't gone with red for my nails and chose chocolate instead.


I really liked it.


For now, anyway.


I was willing to admit I might be going through a phase.


"Okay, I take it back," Cary said, whistling.


"Clearly you wear breakups well."


"See?" my mother crowed, grinning.


"I told you! Now you look like an urban sophisticate."


"Is that what you call it?" I studied my reflection, amazed at the transformation.


I appeared a bit older.


Definitely more polished.


Certainly sexier.


It boosted my spirits to see someone else looking back at me besides the hollow-eyed young woman I'd been seeing for nearly two weeks now.


Somehow, my thinner face and sad eyes paired well with the bolder style.


My mom insisted we go out for dinner since we all looked so good.


She called Stanton and told him to get ready for a night out, and I could tell from her end of the conversation that she was delighting him with her girlish excitement.


She left it to him to pick the place and make the arrangements, then continued with my makeover by picking a little black dress out of my closet.


As I slipped it on, she held up one of my ivory cocktail dresses.


"Go for it," I told her, finding it amusing and pretty amazing that my mother could pull off wearing the clothes of someone nearly twenty years younger.


When we were set, she went to Cary's room and helped him get ready.


I watched from the doorway as my mother fussed over him, talking the whole time in that way she had that didn't require reciprocal conversation.


Cary stood there with a sweet smile on his face, his eyes following her around the room with something like joy.