Gabriela saw her face soften, and let out a whoop. The salon owner quickly marshaled the troops, before Angel could change her mind. They each had assigned tasks, everyone responsible for at least one body part. The room full of women eagerly threw themselves into Project Angel, morphing into a finely honed glamour squad.

By the time Angel showered and returned to the shop, having followed very specific body grooming instructions, the ladies had set up the salon like a surgical theater, with hair, makeup, and nail supplies at the ready. Thank God there isn’t time for a full body wax. Gabriela had warned her before she went upstairs: “I’m gonna check. If you don’t take care of that bush, we are going to hold you down and wax you bald.”

“Jesus, you don’t need to be so up in my business.” But shave she did—legs, armpits, bikini area. As if anyone is going to be seeing Miss Thing tonight.

She knew exactly why she was being asked to the press-heavy party, but sitting in Gabriela’s chair, up high like she was on the Iron Throne, wearing a cardigan over the shapewear, surrounded by ladies amped to hummingbird level, she started to get excited. While Duke maybe wasn’t into her, he was nice. And, well, damn, the Balmain. The luscious, deep red satin glowed in the window where the dress hung, sharp AF.

“You’re not doing anything crazy to me, like turquoise-and-yellow blocked eye shadow or snogged lips. I want blending and I want lip liner. I want classic, nothing that’s going to make me stand out.”

“Oh, we goin’ make you stand out. In all the right ways. From motherfucking fleek eyebrows to the perfect J. Lo glow.”

Angel sat quietly, living in the moment for the first time in a very long time. I might as well give in to it, enjoy the ride.

The makeup artist brought in a suitcase of beauty supplies. One large container was home to at least twenty brushes.

“Seriously, how many makeup brushes do you need?”

“They different sizes. Some are firm, some soft. They’re for contouring.” The girl put the iPad in Angel’s lap and tapped the striped face on the screen. “Each of those layers is a different foundation or powder, either highlighting, covering, or downplaying certain features. These brushes are for shading or for blending.”

“Painting my face for real. Nice.” Angel owned one brush for the one shade of blush she’d worn for years—when she wore anything.

“The Prada makeup artist says we use face paint as a statement and as a form of self-expression,” the girl said. “Not to please other people.”