say it’s been a while since anyone’s been down there.’
‘You’re having a bikini wax? Today?’ Her sister jerked around and then stilled as her nail artiste pulled her foot back towards the bubbling foot spa and tsked. ‘And you’re meeting him tonight?’
‘Sure. Why not?’ No big deal. It was just a tidy up.
‘Your thighs are going to look like a freshly plucked chicken. What on earth were you thinking?’
‘I wasn’t thinking anything. I met the guy online this morning. I don’t intend for him to go anywhere near there; it was more just for a confidence boost.’ Chloe sighed. ‘To be honest, I need more than a bikini deforestation to make me feel up to meeting a man. What if he’s horrible? Worse, what if he isn’t? What then? Because it’s all well and good trying to find someone, but what if I really like him? What if I fall in love with him, deeply, honestly, totally, and then what if this new man, The One, the love of my life—?’
‘I thought that was Jason.’
‘What if the love of my life, version two , does a runner too?’ What then for her heart? ‘I can’t cope with another Jilting.’
‘I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself, Chlo. It’s just a little fun and finding a plus-one.’
‘No, of course. You’re right.’ It was nothing at all to do with falling in love.
After the mani-pedi, Chloe confirmed the get-out-of-date-quick texting plans, kissed Jenna goodbye and made her way to the waxing salon for what she anticipated was going to be one of the probably many excruciatingly painful experiences of the day. Trying to flirt with a murmuring musician would be small fry after this.
‘Hey, love, pop these on.’ The beautician threw a packet onto the very bright pink therapy table in the overly pink room. ‘Just going to wash my hands. I’ll be back in a mo’.’
Chloe picked up the packet. This was the first time she’d visited Smooth, preferring to go somewhere new so she wouldn’t have to relive her embarrassing past with Michelle, her usual beauty therapist. The last time she'd seen her was the day before the wedding.
Big mistake. Michelle never threw packets at her. She was more the hoik yourself up on the table and let’s get on with it kind of beauty therapist. She definitely didn’t have hot pink decor, leopard print wallpaper and a beehive hairstyle.
Sensing she was going to be way out of her comfort zone in more ways than one, Chloe tore the packet open and found two pieces of paper joined together by two pieces of string.
Ooookaaay. How would she ‘pop’ these on? They didn’t look suitable for any part of her anatomy; there was a square of paper, string, then another smaller square, more string… nothing to give her any clue as to where it would fit. A hair protector for when she lay down? Did the string go over her ears? It didn’t look big enough for anything else. Certainly not a thigh. Or two. Definitely not her bottom. ‘Er… Shona… Sheena… Sheila?’ Oh, why hadn’t she paid attention when the woman had introduced herself? ‘Hello?’
‘Ready, love? Right.’ Shona/Sheena/Sheila bustled back into the room and came to a sharp halt, making a pursing shape with her lips and staring hard; dark blue pupils popped in bloodshot white. Chloe guessed it was a botoxed attempt at a frown, and it was peering at the paper thing. ‘Oh. You just want a straight Brazilian, then?’
‘What? No! I just didn’t know what to do with this?’ Chloe held out the paper… thing. ‘What’s it for?’
‘It’s knickers, love.’
‘But I have some on. Thank you, anyway. And these don’t look remotely like—’
‘Knickers. Love.’ Sheena/Shona/Sheila regarded her for a minute, again with the deer in the headlights stare, wide and a little wild. She slowly shook her head and sighed, long and deep. Then, she spoke as Chloe often did to little Evie… carefully enunciating, ‘Is this your first time? Really? Where have you been?
‘You’re having a bikini wax? Today?’ Her sister jerked around and then stilled as her nail artiste pulled her foot back towards the bubbling foot spa and tsked. ‘And you’re meeting him tonight?’
‘Sure. Why not?’ No big deal. It was just a tidy up.
‘Your thighs are going to look like a freshly plucked chicken. What on earth were you thinking?’
‘I wasn’t thinking anything. I met the guy online this morning. I don’t intend for him to go anywhere near there; it was more just for a confidence boost.’ Chloe sighed. ‘To be honest, I need more than a bikini deforestation to make me feel up to meeting a man. What if he’s horrible? Worse, what if he isn’t? What then? Because it’s all well and good trying to find someone, but what if I really like him? What if I fall in love with him, deeply, honestly, totally, and then what if this new man, The One, the love of my life—?’
‘I thought that was Jason.’
‘What if the love of my life, version two , does a runner too?’ What then for her heart? ‘I can’t cope with another Jilting.’
‘I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself, Chlo. It’s just a little fun and finding a plus-one.’
‘No, of course. You’re right.’ It was nothing at all to do with falling in love.
After the mani-pedi, Chloe confirmed the get-out-of-date-quick texting plans, kissed Jenna goodbye and made her way to the waxing salon for what she anticipated was going to be one of the probably many excruciatingly painful experiences of the day. Trying to flirt with a murmuring musician would be small fry after this.
‘Hey, love, pop these on.’ The beautician threw a packet onto the very bright pink therapy table in the overly pink room. ‘Just going to wash my hands. I’ll be back in a mo’.’
Chloe picked up the packet. This was the first time she’d visited Smooth, preferring to go somewhere new so she wouldn’t have to relive her embarrassing past with Michelle, her usual beauty therapist. The last time she'd seen her was the day before the wedding.
Big mistake. Michelle never threw packets at her. She was more the hoik yourself up on the table and let’s get on with it kind of beauty therapist. She definitely didn’t have hot pink decor, leopard print wallpaper and a beehive hairstyle.
Sensing she was going to be way out of her comfort zone in more ways than one, Chloe tore the packet open and found two pieces of paper joined together by two pieces of string.
Ooookaaay. How would she ‘pop’ these on? They didn’t look suitable for any part of her anatomy; there was a square of paper, string, then another smaller square, more string… nothing to give her any clue as to where it would fit. A hair protector for when she lay down? Did the string go over her ears? It didn’t look big enough for anything else. Certainly not a thigh. Or two. Definitely not her bottom. ‘Er… Shona… Sheena… Sheila?’ Oh, why hadn’t she paid attention when the woman had introduced herself? ‘Hello?’
‘Ready, love? Right.’ Shona/Sheena/Sheila bustled back into the room and came to a sharp halt, making a pursing shape with her lips and staring hard; dark blue pupils popped in bloodshot white. Chloe guessed it was a botoxed attempt at a frown, and it was peering at the paper thing. ‘Oh. You just want a straight Brazilian, then?’
‘What? No! I just didn’t know what to do with this?’ Chloe held out the paper… thing. ‘What’s it for?’
‘It’s knickers, love.’
‘But I have some on. Thank you, anyway. And these don’t look remotely like—’
‘Knickers. Love.’ Sheena/Shona/Sheila regarded her for a minute, again with the deer in the headlights stare, wide and a little wild. She slowly shook her head and sighed, long and deep. Then, she spoke as Chloe often did to little Evie… carefully enunciating, ‘Is this your first time? Really? Where have you been?
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