After a quick shower, they set me up on one of the stools from the breakfast bar in the living room while I wolf down two huge slices of New York pizza. It doesn’t fit my current nutrition plan, but two slices can’t hurt.
I scroll mindlessly through my Instagram feed while James and Dina get started on my hair and make-up. Luc has posted a picture of me on the flight on his Instagram story, with a simple emoji caption. The face with hearts surrounding it.
I’m simply sat in my seat diagonally from him with my legs outstretched, nibbling my lip while I read my latest romance novel. The third act break-up is a very anxiety-inducing time, okay? I have no make-up on, and my glasses are sliding down my nose. Glasses that I always forget to wear until I start to feel the beginning niggles of a headache after not wearing them, a headache that always comes from the stress of a flight anyway. My hair is pulled up into a bun to get it off my face and I can see the outline of one of those supposed-to-be-invisible pimple patches on my chin. It worked though. Spot is practically gone.
‘You look beautiful in that photo,’ Luc says, walking past my chair and catching what’s on my phone.
The beginning of a blush creeps into my cheeks. James laughs. ‘You guys,’ he coos. ‘She’ll look better in an hour.’
Luc grins and grabs his toiletries bag from his suitcase, squeezing my shoulder on the way past which kickstarts goosebumps across my skin. He turns the shower on.
‘Can I have creative freedom to create something gorgeous for your beautiful dress?’ James asks.
‘Of course, I trust you.’
I try not to watch which colours James is going for in the eyeshadow palette. It’ll only panic me that I’m going to end up looking like a clown. He spends longer than he usually does perfecting my eyeshadow.
By the time he’s doing skin, Luc is back from the bathroom. He’s wearing just his suit trousers, torso bare. My eyes follow him around the room. I can’t stop myself staring at how his solid torso moves when he bends over, above the band of his Calvin Kleins. His curly hair falls in ringlets in front of his face. Luc catches me looking and raises his eyebrows, the grin adorning his face one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
Dina sprays my hair, locking in my waves, and fans it with her hand to dry it.
‘Do you want me to do your hair, Luc?’ Dina asks, breaking the spell between me and Luc.
Before Dina started working with James, she worked in abarbers. The fumes from hair dye in the salon at which she worked before gave her migraines. But after years of working in the barbers, she missed having the creativity that long women’s hair can bring. It was tiring doing hundreds of the same haircuts every week, in the height of the short back and sides era.
‘Sure,’ Luc shrugs.
Dina pulls out a chair next to me, and I can feel the heat on Luc’s skin from his shower, from the hotel room with all the hair tools and body heat. I move my leg so that it presses against him and his little finger stretches out to be in subtle contact with me. Heat unspools in my core.
Dina finishes my hair first, pulling all the hair back into a ponytail at the nape of my neck, pulling at pieces to make it a bit looser. Mimi and Jess knock on the door. James briefly runs to answer. I can’t see what Dina is doing, but I can hear Luc making gentle, satisfied noises.
‘Wow, Sienna,’ Mimi smiles as she sits on the sofa.
‘You look gorgeous,’ Jess adds.
I grin, not wanting to move too much and disturb James while he works.
When James is going through his bag, I take my opportunity. ‘Do you need anything specific from me and Luc tonight?’ I ask Mimi and Jess.
They both shake their heads. ‘I don’t think so,’ Jess says, while Mimi adds, ‘Just more of what you’ve been doing.’
‘We can do that.’ Luc’s eyes dance when he looks at me, the corners of his lip twitching. He reaches over to hold my hand, and I let him do it, squeezing reassuringly.
A look flickers across Jess’s face, her eyes widening as she catches mine. I know exactly what that look means. Mimi looks at Jess and back at me, but her face is unreadable.
Luc pairs a freshly steamed white shirt with a burnt orange tie and matching pocket square. The perfect shade of burnt orange forYour Email Didn’t Find Me Well.
‘The shade was called Sienna,’ he says, a blush creeping into his cheeks.
I shrug. ‘I guess that’s better than rust.’
Mimi zips open the garment bag and removes the baby pink ball gown with dried flowers, all with a burnt orange centre, trailing down the dress. It doesn’t get any less beautiful the second time I’m seeing it. It has an off-the-shoulder neckline with layers of chiffon housing the flowers, and a high slit in the left leg. There’s going to be a bit of a train on it, too. It’s maybe my favourite dress I’ve ever worn to the PAAs. It’s Grammys-level of stunning. The fabric is sheer, but Mimi hands me a nude-coloured bodysuit and a sheer skirt in the same colour which ties around my waist.
I untie my dressing gown, catching Luc’s eye. He flushes scarlet, turning around and busying himself with smoothing his suit trousers. I’m not uncomfortable getting changed in front of people, after years of performing and having quick changes behind the stage.
It’s not like Luc has never seen me naked, but it’s been years. It’s not all as tight and smooth as it used to be. Cellulite and stretch marks are all a part of being a woman, as much as society makes us want to think they’re unhealthy, not normal. But I’m not twenty anymore, and part of me briefly wonders whether Luc would expect me to still have the body I did then.
I slip into the bodysuit. Jess ties the second skirt around my waist, tucking the bow inside. Luc turns back around, and I lean on him for support, hunting a place on the floor for my foot so I don’t end up treading on the fabric. Once I’m in, Jess and Mimi pick it up and I slide my arms through the sleeves. The invisible boning in the bodice holds me in.
