Reinventing Rachel by Alison Strobel Page A

mocha and eyed Rachel as she modeled the last of the mountain of clothes they’d brought with them into the dressing room. “Bingo, darling. That dress looks like it was made for you. Do I know how to pick them or what?”
    “It would appear you do know what you’re doing. I will agree.”
    “Well, why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll take this all out to the register.”
    Rachel frowned. “Wait—I’m not getting it all. There’s got to be close to two thousand dollars’ worth of clothing here.”
    “Yes, but I get a discount.”
    Rachel laughed. “Well, unless your discount brings the total down to two hundred , I’m going to have to pick and choose here.”
    Daphne waved her hand. “No, no, it’s my treat.”
    Rachel gasped. “What? Daphne—no way. That’s a lot of money.”
    “But it’s my pleasure.” She gave a warm smile of sisterhood and sympathy. “Think of it as a very belated thank you for all the money your family spent on me when we were kids.”
    Family. The comment brought back the pain from the past weeks. How could the people who had been so loving back then be the same people who were separated now?
    Daphne reached out to give Rachel’s hand a squeeze.
    “I’m that transparent?” Rachel asked with a small smile.
    “Twenty years, my friend. You’re like plastic wrap to me now.”
    Rachel laughed and shimmied out of the dress she was still wearing. “Can’t keep a secret from you, I guess.”
    “From me? Never.”
    o
     
    Dressed in a new skirt and blouse, Rachel felt a little more worthy of the limo. They gawked at the extravagant architecture on the strip until the car pulled into the driveway of the Paris Las Vegas Hotel. The driver ushered them from the car, then popped the trunk for the bellhop, who loaded their luggage and shopping bags onto a cart. They followed him into the foyer, where the sight of the lavish décor—gold-accented walls and rich oil paintings, breathtaking chandeliers and imposing pillars—stopped Rachel in her tracks. Daphne moved through the space as though it was nothing of interest and checked them in, then followed the bellhop to the elevator.
    Sixteen stories up the bellhop opened their door and unloaded their bags onto one of the queen beds. Daphne pressed a few bills into his hand and closed the door behind him, then let loose with a squeal as she took a running leap onto the empty bed near the window. “Vegas, baby!” She whooped. “Check out this room!”
    The blue, gold, and cream theme from the lobby was echoed in the room’s pale blue carpet and two-tone striped cream wallpaper. The TV cabinet, desk, and table were of rich dark wood, and the shimmery curtains were striped in blue and gold. A peek into the bathroom revealed cream marble counters and bathtub. Rachel joined Daphne on the bed and they gazed out at the strip below. “This is amazing.”
    ”Better believe it. And now we must vamoose for our beautifying appointment.”
    Beautifying appointment? Two hours in and already this trip was exactly what she needed.
    o
     
    That evening Rachel and Daphne arrived at the hotel’s best restaurant looking like new women. Well, Daphne looked perfect as always. But Rachel hardly recognized herself. Hair and makeup by a professional—and the new wrap dress Daphne had bought her made her look, and feel, like an adult for the first time. Earlier she had stared at her reflection in the hotel mirror, twirled and winked at herself—and had admitted to Daphne that she looked and felt good, even sexy. The only problem was that she also felt self-conscious. Very self-conscious. But, as Daphne admonished her, she’d just have to get over it.
    The view from the restaurant window beside their table kept drawing Rachel’s eyes away from the menu. The lights, the marquees, the never-ending river of humanity that flowed along the sidewalk, all demanded her attention. She’d never experienced anything like it, and coupled with the feeling of being