Bachelor's Bought Bride Read Online Free PDF Page A

college sweatshirt. “More than a little room, I’m afraid.”
    “You’re lovely as you are, but you could be lovelier.I spent a summer working at a froufrou spa in Santa Barbara. I learned all kinds of brilliant tricks there.”
    “Like what?”
    “Your hair. It’s curly, right?”
    “I think frizzy is a better description.”
    “No, seriously, will you take it down for a sec?”
    Bree pulled the ponytail band from her hair with shaky fingers. The heavy mass fell—frizzily—over her shoulders.
    “Oh, yes. You’ve got lovely ringlets in there. We just have to set them free.”
    “How do you do that?”
    Elle smiled mysteriously. “We need to gather a few tools.”
     
    It was nearly four in the afternoon by the time Elle was satisfied with her work. They’d spent an hour in the sun while Elle filed and polished Bree’s nails, and they waited for artfully applied lemon juice to scorch highlights into Bree’s hair.
    Next, Elle conditioned her hair. She’d rinsed, then applied yet more conditioner—gloppy handfuls of it—and made Bree swear she’d never let her hair dry without conditioner on it again.
    While Bree dripped conditioner onto the wood floors, Elle rifled through her wardrobe, tut-tutting and holding items up to Bree’s complexion. In despair, she marched Bree—hair still damp—out the door and down to Union Street, where she encouraged her to try on, and ultimately buy, three very expensive new bras and several mix-and-match pieces from a trendy boutique. Elle made the whole thing so enjoyable, Bree felt as ifthey were BFFs out for an adventure rather than two women who’d only met the night before.
    Once coordinating shoes were found, they hurried back to the apartment where Elle applied a loose powder all over her face, “to brighten you up a bit,” as she said. She brushed light blush over Bree’s cheekbones, and smudged gray-green shadow around her eyes. A touch of rose-pink lipstick gave a subtle punch to her color, without making her look like a clown.
    “Your hair’s finally dry.” Elle arranged it about her shoulders. “Why don’t you look in the mirror?”
    Half afraid of what she’d see, Bree made her way across the studio—no small feat in the heeled ankle boots Elle had talked her into.
    A long mirror hung behind the bathroom door, and she inhaled as she pulled it open.
    She squinted for a moment, looking the image up and down. Then she laughed aloud. “Who is that woman in my mirror?”
    “It’s you, babe.”
    “Not possible. This woman is trim and elegant, and has silky ringlets with blond highlights.”
    “It’s all you. Standing up straight is a big part of it. Tall girls like you often stoop because you’re afraid to stand out. If you do those yoga poses I showed you just once a day, you’ll really see a difference in your posture.”
    “It never would have occurred to me that clothes which fit could make me look thinner!”
    “You have a gorgeous, curvy figure and you should show it off.”
    “Who knew?” Bree grinned at her reflection. “AndI swear on my life, I’ll never let my hair dry without conditioner again.”
    “That’s my girl. So, when are you seeing Gavin next?”

Three
    G avin called on Sunday and invited Bree to a gallery opening on Tuesday night. A photography show. Said he wanted her opinion of the artist’s work.
    Naturally, she said yes.
    For the opening she chose a wrap dress in a dark eggplant color that was subtle and dramatic at the same time. The cut flattered her hourglass figure—who knew she had one?—and made an asset of her height. For the first time in years, she wore heels, which probably made her about five foot eleven. She’d bravely “washed” her hair using only conditioner and it had come out shockingly well—a mass of shiny ringlets. As she sparingly applied some of the subtle makeup Elle had left for her, she wondered how Gavin would react.
    At seven o’clock on the dot she heard a knock on the private