It had been a long day of making up and dressing up Hollywood stars and we were finally finished and clearing up. I washed all the brushes in the sink, then dried them with a hair dryer, while Gem packed up her make-up stacks and put all her bags in her suitcase.
‘Are you going to the wrap party?’ I asked, feeling absolutely shattered. If Phoebe wasn’t so desperate to go, I’d get back on that speedboat, snuggle down in my huge bed and order a bowl of creamy carbonara on room service. I wasn’t up for a super-glamorous party, where I’d feel completely out of place.
‘Of course!’ Gem said, excited. ‘And so are you, Cinderella. Everyone goes to the wrap party for a few drinks at least – even if it’s just to network.’
I nodded. ‘OK, well I’ll head down now to do Blake’s make-up,’ I said, making quote marks with my fingers, ‘and I’ll meet you in there. Is this OK to wear?’ I was in a red cotton dress, which was chic but simple. I didn’t want to look too basic for the crowd.
‘Yep. I’m going in this,’ Gem pointed to the black catsuit she’d been wearing all day. ‘I’ll just add some earrings to jazz it up a bit. I’ve got a gorgeous ruby mask you can borrow if you want to add a bit of glitz?’
She marched over to the cupboard and pulled out a bag, rootling inside until she found what she was looking for. An elaborate wooden box, covered in pearls, and nestled inside was a cat-eye mask with a mahogany handle, decorated with dark red jewels.
‘Oh wow. Are you sure?’ I said, eyes shining.
Gem nodded, handing it to me. ‘To borrow, obviously. Those rubies are real. One of the celebs wore it to the Golden Globes last year.’
I held the mask in front of my face and looked in the mirror. Oh. My. God. This was perfect. It increased my glamour levels by a thousand per cent and meant I could hide in the middle of the party and watch my little revenge plan unfold.
*
I knocked on Blake’s dressing room door and waited, anxious to get this over with. I wasn’t totally sure about the itching powder, but I had it in my pocket just in case. The door flew open and there he was. A man I once considered gorgeous, who now made my skin crawl.
‘Abi!’ he exclaimed, as if we were long-lost friends, and he hadn’t cornered me in the corridor only yesterday. ‘How are you? Thanks for coming.’
‘Anything to help out an old friend,’ I said, tightly.Honey not vinegar, honey not vinegar.I forced a smile.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Blake asked, opening a cupboard and pulling out a bottle of whisky. He’d started pouring before I could say no.
‘I’m not a huge fan of…’
‘Me. I know,’ he said, handing me one of the glasses, with a generously poured triple.
‘Whisky,’ I said, eyeing the glass and taking a tiny sip. ‘Urgh! No – I’m OK thanks.’ I turned to my bag and unzipped the top layer of make-up.
‘Fair enough. Spirits aren’t your thing.’ Blake took a large gulp of his drink then poured my whisky into his. ‘Right then. Where do you want me?’
‘In the chair is fine,’ I said, giving him a look. I put a robe on him and checked his face over, using a face wipe to clear away any residual dirt. ‘OK, tell me. What are you wearing tonight? What look are we going for?’
‘Nothing unusual. A charcoal suit. So my make-up needs to work hard. A lot of people will still be in their masks for the wrap party, so can you paint me one in lots of colours?’
I was tempted to scribble him on a mask in permanent ink. There was thatvinegarcoming through again. But no – the itching powder was a better idea. I needed his make-up to be the best I’d ever done, to repair some of my reputational damage.
‘No problem, I can do you a butterfly mask if you like? I take it you want glamorous and Venetian, not Batman or Phantom?’
‘Glamorous and dramatic,’ he said. ‘I want everyone to look at me.’
I could certainly do that.
I brushed a subtle, cream base onto Blake’s face, before pencilling a soft kohl around his eyes, then outlined the shape of the mask to make sure he was happy before I set about filling it in. I started with make-up, then added jewels and finally the feathers and by the time I’d finished, Blake’s butterfly mask was a masterpiece. You would never have known it wasn’t part of his face.
‘You’re pretty good at this, you know?’ he said, admiring himself in the mirror. ‘I’ll be shouting your name from the rooftops, so everyone knows this was you.’
‘Thank you, I really appreciate it,’ I said, sweetly, forcing a smile.
He patted the seat next to him and finished his whisky. ‘What use are friends in high places if you can’t take advantage every now and then, eh?’
‘Hold that thought. I’ve got one last thing I need to do to make sure the glue sets correctly.’ I grabbed the setting spray and pulled off the lid dramatically, putting my hand in my pocket for the itching powder at the same time. I was going to have to do this quick. ‘Close your eyes,’ I said, and Blake did as he was told. I opened the pouch and tapped a sprinkle of powder into his hair, while simultaneously spritzing his face to keep his mask in position.
Blake coughed into the cloud of spray. ‘That’s plenty enough of that!’
