Chapter Fifteen1969
Josephine had studied the fashion magazines carefully and put in plenty of time practicing at her vanity table. She had it now, lining her eyelids with the perfect cat’s-eye technique, the black line thickening and swooping up as it went past the outer end of her eyelid—a confident, unwavering line, the epitome of modern. She was wearing a pair of silk bikini underwear Albert had sent her when he was off on a business trip, with a silk bra to match, all in the most flattering rosy peach color. She stood and walked to her bedroom door, then whirled around to catch herself in the vanity mirror—yes, she was practically Jean Shrimpton. How could he resist?
Josephine slipped a clingy Pucci dress on. Her feet were bare, and her chestnut hair was tied in a cascading topknot
