“But you’re smiling. You haven’t smiled like that since before your wedding day. Not even during the good years.”
Debra’s shoulders dropped. She didn’t feel defensive, just…exposed. In a good way. “Maybe I just forgot what it felt like to be appreciated and noticed.”
“Mmhmm.” Maeve pointed her fork towards Debra’s chest. “And speaking of appreciation…where, pray tell, didthosecome from?”
Debra swatted Maeve’s hand away from gesturing at her cleavage. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“No, no, this is new,” Maeve insisted, leaning in again. “Three decades as your best friend, I can confirm you’ve neveronceshown a hint of cleavage unless you were at the beach, and even then, you wore a wrap.”
“It’s just a blouse,” Debra muttered as she tugged the neckline up. Which had been a pointless task, because the moment she let go, it settled back exactly where it had been.
“And the haircut,” Maeve went on, narrowing her eyes. “Shorter layers, a bit more movement,veryflattering.”
“Thank you.”
“And you did that for yourself,obviously.” Debra paused, but Maeve smirked. “Aha.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, it’sexactlywhat I think. You’re going for yourthirdfull service in a couple of days, and you decided to have a pre-emptive glow-up.”
Debra pressed her lips together. “I’m not some schoolgirl preparing for a crush.”
“No. You’re a woman remembering who she is and what she’s worth.”
Debra swallowed when an unexpected sting touched the back of her eyes. She straightened her blouse, brushing invisible lint from her sleeve. “Maeve, these women you know who’ve booked the full service before…”
“Mm. What about them?”
“Is it a recurring thing for them? Do they book often?”
“That I know of…no.” Maeve dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and cleared her throat. “It’s a one-time thing.”
Debra couldn’t fathom why any woman would choosenotto see Billie again. “Why?”
Maeve shrugged. “Because it’s transformative. A little awakening, I suppose. A palette cleanser, if you will.”
Debra’s stomach dipped. “And that’s it? No more appointments after the initial one?”
“Some do,” Maeve said, tilting her head. “But for most? Once is enough. Billie Brown isn’t exactly…reachable. Women don’t chase her because they know they have no chance. Theyfloat around her orbit once and then drift off into their newly awakened lives.”
Debra swallowed, pushing her food around the plate. “R-right.”
Maeve’s smile turned into something more…concerned. “And that’s exactly what worries me about you. This is…different for you.”
Debra looked out of the window, watching people move along the street with nowhere near the weight she felt in her chest. She was beginning to wonder if she’d made a huge mistake in ever setting foot inside Brown & Co.
She’d decided on the new haircut because Billie had brushed her fingers through her hair yesterday. She’d chosen the blouse she was wearing because Billie had looked at her collarbone like it was a revelation. She’d slept in her robe last night because the thought of anything touching her skin felt too much like someone else’s claim.
And when she thought about Saturday—about walking into that fitting room again—her whole body lit up with something she hadn’t felt since her early twenties.
Hope. Desire. A hint of her true self.
She pushed her empty plate away and finally looked back at Maeve. “It’s not an issue. Billie knows what she’s doing. And I…I trust her.”
Maeve sighed. “That’s the part that scares me.”
Debra chose not to answer. Because deep down, far deeper than she wanted to acknowledge, she knew Maeve wasn’t entirely wrong.
