Chapter SevenAre you sure we can’t order in?” Nikita was looking at the cocktail-dress clad woman in the mirror.
“Not a chance!” Zoe had been fussing with Nikita’s hair, trying to make it look like something. “We are so taking you to the salon tomorrow. Hair, manicure, the whole bit. You look fabulous though. Again, wish I had your body.”
“Will you cut that out?” Because Zoe looked fabulous herself in a classic little black dress. Offset by her pale skin, blond-dyed hair, and bright yellow pumps with flirty bows that matched the one clipped into her hair, Zoe looked perfect for the first evening’s dinner.
The woman in the mirror, on the other hand, looked like a trussed turkey. Her bright-red dress was a curve-hugging sheath above the waist and a fanciful floral lace over the pleated sk
