“Like a butterfly from its chrysalis, eh?”

  Elizabeth stuttered out, “Y—yes.”

  Wesley raised an eyebrow but didn’t question her reaction. He started up the motor and they went on their way. When they left the parking garage, he told her he’d lined up several appointments. First was the eye doctor. When they arrived at the doctor’s office everyone was gone except the physician. The doc had stayed late as a favor to Wesley.

  “You’re late. I was just about to leave. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

  “Nope, we didn’t change our mind. I tried to talk her out of it though.”

  “Talk her out of contacts?”

  “No, Jeff. Just never mind and get on with it. We have a hair appointment in an hour.”

  Jeff worked quickly. He checked her glasses, making little mumbling noises about them not needing to be so thick. Then he examined her eyes. After the examination, he placed tiny pieces of flexible plastic in her eyes and before she knew it, she was looking in a mirror.

  Elizabeth’s bright green eyes shone like emeralds as she stared at a reflection of her whole face. Wesley watched as she continued to stare. When she looked at Wesley, she asked, “What do you think?”

  Answering truthfully, he said, “I like it. The question is what do you think?”

  “Well, it’s different. I think I like it.”

  The doctor leaned back causally against the wall, his arms crossed against his broad chest. “Now that was worth the wait.”

  A red hue covered Elizabeth’s cheeks as she tried to shift her gaze downward. Her hair fell across her face and Wesley remembered their next appointment.

  Glancing down at his watch, he told Jeff thanks, grabbed Elizabeth and hurried out the door. When they were almost to the hairdressers, Elizabeth said, “We didn’t pay him.”

  “I already settled with him.”

  “What? Wesley! I can’t let you pay for all this.”

  “No, not that kind of settle. I did him a favor some years ago and he owed me one. Besides, you shouldn’t worry about this visit. You are just getting started. You’ll have to go back and get more contacts later, okay?”

  “Gotcha.”

  They traveled on in silence. Wesley whipped into a parking place and hurried Elizabeth out of the car. The hair dresser was really a fancy little shop on a corner in downtown Manhattan. As the door opened a little bell rang, announcing their presence.

  “There you are. What took you so long?” Rosey stared at Wesley, a large wad of gum coming out of her mouth and forming a bubble. When it popped, she motioned them inside the tiny shop. The door was shut and locked behind them.

  The room smelled of burnt hair and perm chemicals. Ignoring the odors, Wesley moved Elizabeth to one of the empty salon chairs in the room and bade her to have a seat. Once she was settled, he found an empty chair along the wall, picked up a magazine and answered Rosey’s question. “Jeff was slow.”

  “Figures,” mumbled the lady, before turning to Elizabeth, “Now what can we do for you, little lady?”

  Wesley watched as Elizabeth twisted a fuzzy curl around her forefinger. Her top teeth bit into her lip. Looking in the mirror, her gaze sought him. When she answered there was a tremble in her voice. “Well, I don’t really know.”

  Wesley rolled his eyes heavenward. Was he going to have to think of everything for her? He hoped when he was done she liked her new look, or he would just say “Told you so,” and be done with it.

  “Rosey, we need you to add some medium to long layers on the back and sides. Let’s keep the bounce and the body, but above all else, get rid of this bad perm look.”

  “Excellent choice.”

  As Rosey worked on Elizabeth, Wesley wondered if she knew what she had gotten herself into. He was sitting behind her flipping through a magazine. The heat from Elizabeth’s questioning glare was palatable. He looked up, a grin spread across his face as he said, “I had a lot of sisters.”

  “Oh.”

  “Just enjoy the pampering, girl. How often do you think Lisa is going to allow me to pamper another woman without getting extremely jealous? You know I’ll have to tell her what I did for you, or she’ll think we’re hiding something.”

  “And that means you’ll have to tell her why,” groaned Elizabeth.

  “Don’t worry. Lisa loves you. She wants you to be happy. She won’t tell that you’re trying to get blue eyes interested in you.”

  “Come over here, Wesley.”

  Wesley walked over to her and she snuck her arm out from under the apron and punched him. “Oww, what was that for?”

  “I’m not doing this so blue eyes will take an interest in me. I’m doing this for myself. I want to feel a little more attractive. Got it?”

  Wesley massaged his arm, milking the sympathy. She couldn’t know what he was up to, could she? He hoped not. It was better if she thought this was all her idea. The makeover didn’t need to come from him. It was the only way to keep her safe. With an attempt at lightening the mood, he said playfully, “Okay, okay, I get it. You didn’t have to hit me.”

  “How can you be that big and still whine like a little girl?”

  His head reared back, laughter flowed freely. When he finished, he stared directly at her, displaying a smile, and said, “Trust me. It’s easy.”

  ****

  The hair dresser finished up and twirled the seat around to the mirror. Elizabeth was in a state of shock. She hadn’t seen this lady in a long time. The sight of herself as she had once looked sent goose bumps down her arms. Shaking her head back and forth, she enjoyed the silken hair which now glided across her neck. She felt light and free. Wesley settled the bill again and grabbed her, pulling her across the room.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “Your last appointment.”

  Elizabeth attempted to keep her rapid pulse in check. Yes, she had wanted this change. Yes, she was tired of hiding behind her clothing. Tired of listening to Janice and her ideas about staying safe. The whole notion that someone would come after her because she’d seen a document in the office was absurd. Everyone in the building had seen important, confidential information at one time or another. As far as she knew, none of them had been asked to hide their appearance.

  No, the real fear she had was for her position. Love for the job helped her to rise from bed each morning. Income from the job helped pay for her one splurge, her townhouse. This change in appearance could very well backfire. Then what?

  Elizabeth tried to think on other things as they traveled to a nice little clothing boutique. Upon entering the store, she was surprised. There was not one piece of clothing in sight. “What kind of store is this?”

  “They sell clothes.”

  “Well I thought so too. But where are the clothes?”

  “Just wait. You’ll see.”

  A slender, lanky woman of about fifty with salt and pepper hair walked through a curtain in the opposite wall. “Darling,” she crooned, in a thick heavy French accent. “Where have you been? I thought you weren’t coming.”

  “We’re getting that a lot tonight.”

  The lady looked at Elizabeth and grunted. “Oh, my dearest what are you wearing? You look positively dreadful.”

  Elizabeth tried not to take offense and Wesley answered, “She would like a new look. We need office wear, casual wear, the works.”

  “Oh, darling, I’ll give you the best. You’ll see.”

  The woman clapped her hands three times and women of all shapes and sizes began pouring from behind a closed curtain, each with an armload of clothes. The lady picked three of the women and sent the others back. Then she pointed a finger in the direction of the changing room and gave Elizabeth a gentle push. “Follow Becky, darling. We’ll be waiting.”

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Behind her, Wesley and the store owner settled into two high-backed paisley covered chairs. A small round table sat between them holding a bouquet of flowers, a basket of fruit, and a pitcher of clear colored liquid. A grimace spread across her face as she contemplated her situation. All this fawning over her was overwhelming. How was she going to pay Wesley back for all he was doing to help her?

  After a moment’s hesitation, Wesley looked in her direction and shooed her toward an open door. So she did the only thing she could do: she obeyed.

  She followed the girl named Becky to the other room. The room was bathed in light. Full-length mirrors formed a semi-circle around a small platform that rested in the center of the room. When they arrived inside, Becky laid her pile of clothes on a work table scooted up against the wall and told Elizabeth to strip.

  She felt her eyebrows shoot upward. “Pardon?”

  The tall, lanky girl placed a hand on her hip and replied, “Well, sweetheart, you have to undress so you can try on the clothes and walk out and model them for Madame and your beau.”

  “He’s not my beau,” Elizabeth said firmly.

  “Husband?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No.”

  Straightening to her full height, Becky said, “Listen girl, it doesn’t matter to me who he is. Just get down to your under clothes so you can try these on.”

  “Sure,” Elizabeth said, in a tiny voice. Maybe the girl was having a rough day; whatever the case, she didn’t seem real happy about being stuck at work after hours. Not wishing to cause more animosity, Elizabeth quickly complied and put on the first set of clothes.

  She walked out a little timidly. Wesley and the Madame were still sitting in matching chairs. Glasses filled with lemonade were in their hands. The ice clinked with their movements.

  Wesley touched the glass to his lips when Elizabeth appeared. He let out a low, appreciative whistle, causing Elizabeth to blush from her hairline to the tips of her toes. “I think that’ll get Blue Eyes’s attention.”

  “I told you…”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. You told me it isn’t for him. It’s just for all men in general. Well, let me tell you, most men will enjoy your new look.”

  “Wesley, you’re making me uncomfortable.”

  “Sorry, Elizabeth, but when I told you that you were attractive, I wasn’t lying. You’ve done quite well hiding yourself. People are going to be a little shocked. They’re definitely going to wonder why you’ve been hiding yourself.” He faced Madame Duprea, “We’ll take that one and all the others you’ve picked for her.”

  “Don’t you want her to try them on?”

  He picked up the French lady’s hand and kissed her knuckles, a smile spread across his face and went all the way to his eyes. “Madame Duprea, I trust your judgment implicitly. I’m sure everything you picked will be as expected. You’ve never steered me wrong before.”

  “Humph, this is true. How many times does this make now, hmm? It is like ten, no?”

  Elizabeth watched Wesley shuffle his feet, his hands fidgeting at his sides. While his body language spoke of discomfort, his mouth continued to praise the Madame and her choices.

  “The vivid colors. The style! There’s no other boutique in town with as much class as yours.” Madame Duprea seemed used to all the attention. She brushed it off with nothing more than a smile.

  “You know how to treat a woman, Monsieur Wesley.”

  He bowed at the waist with a flourish, sweeping his arm forward as he said, “Merci, beaucoup.”

  The elderly woman hid a giggle behind her hand as she ordered one of her girls to pack up the clothing items and carry them to Wesley’s car.

  He stopped the assistant before she could fill the last request. “I can do that.” He grabbed the packages from a stunned Becky, causing her to blush. Like a gentlemen, his arms laden with packages, Wesley proceeded to the door. Holding open the door for Elizabeth, she slipped past him and out onto the darkening street.

  She walked quickly to the car, leaning against the door and waiting on him. Why had he made all those purchases? She didn’t need that many new outfits. How would she ever pay him back? Every dime she made went to pay for her townhouse. Her parents had tried to get her to sell it and move somewhere cheaper, except she loved the view and refused to leave.

  Which brought her back to how would she pay Wesley back? Maybe he had talked to her parents and this was their way of putting her in debt so she would have to move. Or perhaps she was just being ungrateful. Could be all the pampering had gone to her brain and now she was incapable of being rational.

  As Wesley placed the packages in the trunk and came around to open her door, Elizabeth knew everything he’d done for her today had been because he was a nice guy. However, at some point they would have to discuss payment.

  The perfect gentleman, he waited for her to be seated before shutting the door behind her. She strapped in while he walked around and climbed behind the driver’s wheel.

  She kept a wide smile plastered on her face because she could see the employees from the boutique staring at them. No doubt they thought she was his girlfriend, mistress, or some such thing for him to take her to such a shop and spend so much money on her.

  She gave him a few minutes to get out on the road. Once they had been riding for awhile, Elizabeth started to ask about his purchases, except Wesley spoke first.

  He raised his hand. “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course, I do. How are you going to pay me back? Why did I go buy all those clothes for you? Is this a plot so you’ll have to leave your townhouse? Am I right?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “You forget how long I’ve known you, Elizabeth. I’ve sat in Bible study classes with you, remember? I know what bothers you and what you dread. I know that you quit your job as a lawyer when you moved here. That you took a lower paying job because you didn’t want extra stress. I’m a lawyer after all, and I spend a lot of time listening, so I’ve gotten really good at it. Now in answer to your questions, I’m not trying to place you in debt. I wouldn’t do that to you. And you don’t have to pay me back.”

  “Sure. I guess Madame Duprea owes you a favor.”

  He laughed. “As a matter of fact, she does owe me a favor. I got her son off with a lighter sentence than he deserved, and she’s been eternally grateful. She’s even given some clothes to Lisa at a discount.”

  “You took me to a place that Lisa knows about!”

  “Well, of course. That way when I tell her everywhere we went she can call and check.” Wesley had a type of pleading sound in his voice. “I really like Lisa, and I don’t want to mess this up.”

  Elizabeth felt terrible. She had put him in a very awkward position. “I should have asked Lisa to come with us. Then she wouldn’t have had to worry.”

  “Oh, she isn’t worried. In fact I believe she’s been following us the whole time.”

  “What?”

  “I called her and told her what you’re going through while we were at the hair dresser. I also told her you were kind of embarrassed and didn’t want an audience. So she agreed to stay behind so she could only see you as you exited the building.”

  Elizabeth groaned loudly. “What about her mother’s visit?”

  “She said she’d finished all the cleaning she wanted to do. Something about needing to get out of the house.”

  “I wish you would’ve told me.”

  Turning to face her, Wesley grinned broadly. “Now, that wouldn’t have been any fun.”

  Elizabeth sneered in his direction then turned and faced out the window. The car cut across town in no time. Soon she was unloaded and staring at her packages in her living room floor. Madame Duprea had forgotten nothing. All the way down to a brand new slip and several pairs of pantyhose. Wesley had been right. Everything the woman chose had fit perfectly.

  Elizabeth sat down on her bed and stared at all the packages. She would be up half the night sorting it out. She would have to get rid of her old clothes just to make room for the new ones in her closet. But as her mother always told her, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Elizabeth was going to listen to her at least this time.

  ****

  When Elizabeth was safely inside her home, Wesley picked up his phone. Dialing Lisa, he watched his rearview mirror to see if his tail reached for the phone. When their hands remained steady on the wheel, he hung up.

  Wesley had prayed it was Lisa behind him. He’d hoped his past had finally left him behind. But he was wrong. They didn’t trust him. This little display proved that they believed he was going to share their secrets. And now his act of friendship toward Elizabeth may have just placed her in grave danger.

  Chapter Three

  The next day, Manhattan was warm and humid. Elizabeth dressed in a beige skirt that came just a hair above her knees. The sleeves of her shirt ended at the elbow. The thin material was covered in yellow and brown stripes, and a small slit resided on each side of the cuffs; however, the middle part of the shirt resembled a brown vest. She combined that with three inch heels and some small dangling earrings.

  Elizabeth brushed out her soft, wavy hair, allowing it to hang freely. She’d never been one for makeup and had refused to change that, even for the overly pushy makeup artist at the salon. Adding a small touch of clear lip gloss and then grabbing her purse, she headed out the door. She realized she’d made a mistake before she reached the bus stop. There was no way she could walk in these heels. Why hadn’t she brought tennis shoes and changed into her heels at the office? It was too late now. She would have to make do.

  When Elizabeth stepped on the bus, all the regulars were aboard—the lady with the three kids, the priest with his prompt white collar, a little old man that always carried his brown paper bag. No one paid any attention to her new look, and she was glad.