I took one look at her selection and smiled. “Feeling better?”
She scooped up the black leggings, hot pink sweater, and pink and green scarf. “Not really better, but determined.” She winked at me and went into the bathroom.
When she came out, her hair was in a perfect twist, with the scarf tied jauntily around the front. She’d done her makeup style somewhere between a pin-up and a 1950s runway model, and as she sat on the bed to put on her knee-length stiletto boots, she smiled. “Let’s go catch the bad guys.”
“Okay, but first, I need you to do my hair and makeup. No way I’m showing up for this meeting looking all plain Jane,” I said.
“You got it, sister,” she said and proceeded to cream and lotion my hair until the curls were soft but solid. She did my makeup with waves of blue across
