PAIGE: You haven’t forgotten I have a curfew, right?
This year, even though her birthday fell on a Friday, the fact that Paige had an afternoon wedding to work on Saturday meant she’d given Jules a cut-off time of midnight for the evening’s festivities.
JULES: No, I haven’t forgotten.
JULES: I’ll see you tonight at 5 p.m. We’re going to have so much fun!
PAIGE: I can’t wait!
When Jules arrived at Paige’s apartment promptly at 5 p.m., she brought an outfit for Paige to wear that night. It was one of several ‘rules’ that had been established by Jules, so Paige waited in the kitchen while everything was laid out on her bed, until it was time for the big reveal.
When Paige was finally allowed to enter the bedroom, Jules was rather excited, which made Paige a little wary, and that feeling was intensified when Jules squeezed Paige’s shoulders and issued a stern, “You know the rules,” before leaving Paige to get dressed.
She started with the lingerie. Usually, it was a matching bra and panty set, but this year the bra was noticeably absent, which made her frown for a moment. Telling herself, Don’t think, just get dressed, Paige picked up the black pair of Myla panties that were probably the most expensive thing on the bed and put them on. Next, was the black halter-style dress with half the back missing (which made the lack of a bra suddenly make sense) and after slipping it on, Paige noticed that if she moved just right, side-boob could come into play. There were thigh-high stockings in a mesh pattern that stopped a few inches below the dress’s hem and after pulling on her Louboutins that Jules had retrieved from her closet, Paige looked at herself in the mirror.
She knew from experience that the outfits chosen never provided any clues as to what was going to be on the evening’s agenda, so there was no point in even trying to guess. She’d worn a semi-formal dress to a midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show one year, so Paige knew she could very well be playing putt-putt golf in this ensemble.
For a weird moment, she wished she’d been wearing this when she’d ran into David and Ashley. It obviously would’ve been a bit much for Bender’s, but it still would’ve been nice. Although, when she hit the floor, she’d likely have ended up flashing everyone, given the shortness of the skirt and the minimalism of the lace panties that covered five percent of her ass.
“You look fantastic,” Jules gushed when Paige joined her in the living room. “You’re not finished, though.”
“Yes, I am,” Paige said and held up the elaborate tiara covered in sparkly rhinestones; it was both hideous and ludicrous at the same time. “I’m drawing the line here. This is my line in the sand.”
Jules glared at her. “Wrong. You’re wearing that. Those are the rules.”
“Why don’t these rules apply to you on your birthday?”
“Because the rules are meant to force you out of your shell. And I don’t need to be forced out of my shell because I don’t have a shell. I haven’t had a shell since I hit puberty.”
Paige sighed and put the tiara on, feeling ridiculous. “Fine. But no pictures with me wearing it. That’s my new line in the sand.”
“Wrong again. There will be pictures.”
Since Jules had taken an Uber to Paige’s place, they took another one to a trendy looking salon, which wasn’t alarming at first; Jules usually took her somewhere to have her make-up done before they went out. It wasn’t until Paige was sitting in the stylist’s chair and heard the word ‘makeover’ that she started to get a little nervous.
“Makeover? What’s going on?” Paige asked.
“Just a small one,” Jules promised. “You’re going to love it.”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“Is this my … surprise?”
“Yes.”
The hairstylist, whose name was Sophie, gathered up some of Paige’s hair and asked Jules, “How much leeway do I have?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking me that?” Paige protested.
“No.” Jules sounded like one of Hitler’s SS henchmen. “It’s not up to you. If it was, you wouldn’t give Sophie any leeway.”
“I don’t know about this,” Paige said slowly.