Authors: Adriana Kraft
Fortunately,
most
of
the
talk
had
nothing to
do
with
her.
Nick,
sitting
beside
her,
deflected
any
personal
questions.
She
chewed
on
a
piece
of
ham,
savoring
it
like
she’d
savored
his
loving
earlier
that
morning.
His
tongue
had
found
its
way
to
her now
not-so-private
place.
His
words
were seared on
her brain: “Did you trim
this
for
me?
It’s
beautiful.”
The
joy
caused
by
his
praise
washed
away
any
memory
of
pain.
Though
there
must
be
an
easier
way
to
keep
a
bikini
line.
She’d
have
to
do
more
researching
on
that.
His
fingers
squeezed
her
thigh,
bringing
her
attention back to the conversation.
“Yes,”
he
said
to
his
mother,
“Daisy
is an
English
major,
aren’t
you,
Daisy?”
She
frowned,
picking
up
threads
of
conversation.
Vaguely,
she
recalled
his
mother
asking
her
whether
she
was
in
college.
She
flushed.
“That’s
right.
I
love
the
classics. But
there’s not a lot of time. I can only manage a course a semester.”
Agnes
Underwood
smiled.
“There’s
no
rush.
Sometimes
education
is
best
when
you
savor it step by step.”
Daisy
smiled
while
Nick
choked
on
a
mouthful
of potatoes. “I hope you’re right,”
Daisy
replied,
brushing
her
knee
against
Nick’s
thigh. “I don’t want to miss a thing.”
“So
who’s
your
favorite
author?”
“That’s
easy.
Shakespeare.
Not
a
very
original
choice.
But
he
has
such
a
deep
appreciation
for
the
tension
between
pain
and
joy.”
“You
could
do
much
worse,”
Nick’s
mother
said,
sipping
her
coffee.
“I
still
have
a
soft
spot
for
Shakespeare
even
after
all
these
years.”
Daisy
nodded
at
the
woman,
whose
dark
hair
was
sprinkled
with
gray.
Nick’s
mother
was
thoughtful
and
likeable.
What
would
she
say
if
she
knew
how
her
son
had
spent
his
morning?
He’s
old
enough
to
make
up
his
own
mind.
Daisy
blinked
at
the
older
woman,
who
had
not
uttered
a
word.
Did
she
know?
How
could
she?
After dinner, the men
took their coffee into
the
living
room
while
the
three
women
cleared
the
table
and
put
away
the
food.
The
conversation
was
comfortable
and
light,
mainly
about
horses,
some
about
books
and
theater.
She
didn’t
know
enough
about
the
theater.
While
she’d
read
plenty
of
plays,
few
were
contemporary.
Maybe
she’d
pick
up
some
by
Sondheim.
She
shrugged
as
she
put
more
dishes
into
the
dishwasher.
It
was
highly
unlikely
she’d
ever
see
these
people
again
anyway.
They
did
make
her
feel
like
she
was
part
of
things.
Almost
like
she
was
part
of
the
family. She shivered. But what if they
really
knew
about
her
and
Nick,
or
about
who
she
was?
“Come
on,
Daisy,”
Angie
said.
“Let’s
go
upstairs
and
freshen
up.
We
can
join
Mom and
the
men
in
a
few
minutes.”
Daisy
watched
Angie
expertly
apply
lipstick
and
then
blush
to
her
cheeks
and
finally
a
little
eye
liner.
Daisy
only
owned
lipstick.
She’d
never
learned
about
the
other stuff.
“You’re
a
beautiful
young
woman,
Daisy,
in
case my brother hasn’t told you.”
Daisy
felt
herself
blushing
profusely. Angie
was
a
head
shorter,
but
more
amply
filled out. If either of them
was
beautiful,
it
was
Nick’s
sister.
“If
you
don’t
mind
a
suggestion
or
two,”
Angie
said,
“you
could
make
those
high
cheek
bones
and
full
lips
stand
out
more.”
Daisy
arched
an
eyebrow.
Angie’s
bubbling
enthusiasm
was
contagious,
like
that
of
a bettor who’d just hit a trifecta.
“Nothing
dramatic,”
Angie
cautioned.
“Just
add
a
little
subtlety
and
even
more
mystery.
Can I try? It’s part of what I do for a living.”
Daisy
shrugged.
What
did
she
have
to
lose,
if
it
made
Nick’s
sister
happy?
She
could just wipe it off later. “Why not,”
she muttered.
“Good.
You
have
such
a
natural
beauty,
we
don’t
want
to
do
much.”
Angie
leaned
over
and
pinched
Daisy’s
cheeks.
“You
definitely
have
the
look
of
a
well
loved
woman.
Nick
must
be
good
for
you,
and
I
expect
you’re
good
for
him.”
“What?”
Daisy
gasped.
Angie
straightened
and
smiled.
“Come
now.
You
don’t
think
everyone
sitting
at
that
table
didn’t
know
they
were
looking
at
a
well
loved
woman?”
Angie
paused.
“Well, maybe
not my dad. I’m never sure what he sees.
“Let
me
look
at
you
now.
First,
let’s
try
a
slightly
darker
shade
of
lipstick.”
Angie
pulled
out
several
boxes
of
assorted
makeup
kits,
picked
out
the
lipstick
she’d
been
searching
for
and
then
applied
it
to
Daisy’s
lips.
“Great.
Then
a
little
rouge
on
the
cheekbones.
Excellent.
Now
a
little
eyeliner.
Wow! Take a peek in the mirror.”