Page 50 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

“Is there a man?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, clearly you’ve gone through a third of your life without giving a damn about your clothes. And now you’re asking for an emergency consult on a big event.” She smiled. “Also, no rings.”

I groaned. “Is that how I’m coming off? Like some desperate woman who is trying to land a boyfriend?”

April laughed loudly. “No, Amanda, you’re a very confident person. I like your attitude, and the fact you’ve hired me shows that you’re well aware of your limitations. But when people do something different about their appearance—like losing a lot of weight, changing their hair colour drastically, or getting a lot of new clothes—it’s often because of the beginning or end of a relationship.”

“Do stylists need to have a psychology degree as well as fashion sense?”

“No. But if you don’t know how to read people, you’re not going to last long in the business.”

Since I was undressed, it seemed like we were intimate. “Yes, there’s a guy. But he’s not interested in me or anything.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Why has he asked you out then?”

“It’s for charity. Well, I mean the event is for charity.” I considered this as she measured my thigh. “Well, maybe the date is charity too. But it’s my fantasy coming to life, so I figured I should really go for it.”

She put away the tape measure, unzipped a dress, and slipped it over my head. “Explain the fantasy part to me.”

“He’s someone I had a crush on when I was in high school. I used to dream about going on a date with him—and now I am.” We were friends; I was a hundred percent sure about that. But there were so many times—in the mascot costume, at the game, even when he asked me out—that it felt like there was more going on. But that was ridiculous. I’d even heard him talking to Greg about his weekends. He had a busy social life while I was at home working and fantasizing about the impossible.

I shook away the silly ideas like cobwebs. “It doesn’t matter. All I want is to enjoy myself that night.” She didn’t answer me, as she was busy zipping and straightening things. I continued, “So having the right dress is important. I wanted to look like one of his dates, even if I’m not in his league.”

“Who is this superhero?”

I hesitated. Chris was famous enough that everyone must know him. It was one thing to confess a crush in anonymity and another to have a total stranger know what an idiot I was. “Umm, he’s a hockey player.”

April rolled her eyes. “Of course. I seem to spend half my styling life getting people ready for big nights with hockey players.”

“Really?” That seemed like a pretty narrow market to me. Unless they were all for dates with Chris.

She laughed. “Not really. But it was how I got my start. You’re ready. Take a look.”

I was wearing an ice blue evening gown with long sleeves and a cinched-in waist. “I look great.” The blue set off my complexion, and I looked taller.

“Mmmm, yes. But I think we can do even better.”

April was surprisingly minimalist. I thought she’d have me trying on a lot of dresses, but she was able to expertly eye a store full of clothes and choose one or two things that worked.

“How do you do that?” I wondered, as I swung my hips in a full-skirted gown in a pale lilac satin.

“Do what?”

“Easily pick out the things that suit me.”

She turned me so we were both facing the mirror. “Well, it’s a skill, but it’s even easier for you. We’re very similar in colouring.”

“We are?” She looked golden and glowing, while I looked washed out.

She nodded vigorously. “Yes. But you don’t wear colours that suit you. And I’ve had highlights put in my hair, and applied the proper makeup.” She was sizing me up. “The gala is next Saturday night, right?”

I nodded.

“I want you to set the whole afternoon aside. You’ll get your hair and makeup done. I can make arrangements for that.”

“Really? The whole afternoon?”

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