Mandy hustled Maggie into the ensuite which when alone Maggie considered was spacious but first with Ethan and now with this Amazon of a woman she wasn't so sure. Mandy quickly found the blow-dryer and pushed Maggie none too gently to sit in front of the vanity mirror. With whirlwind alacrity a miracle was achieved in 20 minutes whereby Maggie's thick mane was tamed into a glorious cascade of soft curls.
Mandy then proceeded to draw a rabbit out of her hat or rather an assortment of eye shadows, blushers, mascara and lipsticks out of her miniscule evening bag.
Within minutes a face that could grace a magazine cover stared back at Maggie. O.K., Woman's Weekly not Vogue but beautiful nevertheless.
Maggie was beginning to enjoy the prospect of going to the 'ball' but then remembered her depleted wardrobe. 'Pity Cinderella only has rags to wear.'
Her little black number wouldn't make the grade. A bit like her, she thought sadly.
'Not to worry.' Mandy blithely stated. 'It's all under control.'
A final spray to hold the tousled look firmly in place and then the stylist, declaring her mission finished, ushered her charge into the bedroom. Maggie gasped in bewilderment at the creation in aquamarine silk and sequin's that lay melted over her bed.
'Now I know you didn't pull that out of your purse.'
'That's what I call a frock!' exclaimed Mandy. 'Ethan is just going to drool when he sees you in that.'
Not ever imaging Ethan drooling she got to wondering how Mandy knew Ethan, a question that had been niggling at Maggie since she had laid eyes on the tall beauty.
She was horrified when the question burst out.
'How long have you known Ethan?'
While innocent enough Mandy was no fool. 'A long time, Sweetie. But not in the way you're thinking. He doesn't do it for me.'
Maggie was stunned, jumping to Ethan's defence. 'How could he not? He's funny, considerate, gentle, gorgeous...what else could possible 'do' it for you?'
'Gee Honey a girls got it bad when a man's looks come last on her list of 'to die fors' and his money doesn't make it at all. He's just not my type, that's all.'
'What sort of type is he that you couldn't go for him?' Maggie knew she was being perverse. She couldn't imagine any other type coming up to par. Though how ridiculous she must sound questioning another woman's disinterest in the man she herself was definitely interested in.
'He's male.'
'Ooh.' The light dawned.
'Now you… if I weren't involved with the light of my life, you, I could go for!'