“A side benefit of all that running. And not pouring an entire hive of honey over your yogurt. You look gorgeous. Right. That’s what you’re wearing tonight.”

Milly tugged slightly at the hem.

“You don’t think it’s too short? If it’s breezy, the skirt part blows up. I don’t want my fat thighs on show.”

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer.” Nicole went back to the wardrobe and pulled out a cashmere cardigan in the same shade of blue. “This is pretty. You can take it as an extra layer in case you’re cold. Now we need to think about jewelry, and then hair and makeup.”

By the time they’d finished, Milly almost didn’t recognize herself.

She felt a twinge of nostalgia. “This reminds me of when we were teenagers getting ready to go to a party. You always chose what we wore.”

“Only because left to your own devices you would have worn jeans everywhere.” Nicole hung the cardigan on the door alongside the dress. “Do you have a bag that would look good with this? Let’s put all your bags on the bed, and then we can choose one.”

“We don’t need to put them on the bed,” Milly said. “I only own two bags. I’ll just take the one I use every day.”

“That massive, battered tote bag you haul around everywhere? You are not using that.”

“My everyday bag is brilliant. Very roomy. Holds everything. I actually have a clean T-shirt in there in case of accidents and a couple of spare light bulbs for the cabins.”

“Will you listen to yourself?” Nicole rolled her eyes. “You are not going to an expensive restaurant with a hot guy carrying spare light bulbs in your purse.”

“How do you know he’s hot?”

Nicole pulled out Milly’s drawers one by one, checking the contents. “I know him. I met him a couple of times on set. I was in one of his movies.”

“What?” It took Milly a moment to absorb the full implications of that. It hadn’t occurred to her, even for a moment, that Nicole and Brendan might know each other. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

“Because I didn’t know he was staying here until you mentioned that you were going to dinner.” Nicole opened another drawer. “Do you own sexy underwear?”

“No. And it doesn’t matter because he is not going to see my underwear unless a breeze catches that dress you’re making me wear.” It unsettled her that they knew each other. “Which movie? Were you a murder victim or something?”

Nicole riffled through the contents of the drawer. “You know I never take that type of role. I was the hardened New York cop investigating a serial killer. It was the type of movie you would have watched from behind the sofa.”