Moments later,Naomi emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of fragrant steam, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders, a soft white robe wrapped snugly around her frame. She looked flushed from the shower, her skin still tingling from the warmth of the water, a faint lavender scent trailing after her. She leaned against the doorframe for a moment, catching her breath as though stepping out into this moment took courage.Tasha, sprawled across Naomi's bed like she owned the place, perked up the instant she saw her. Her lips curved into a grin, playful mischief sparkling in her eyes."Well, well, look who's finally decided to grace me with her royal presence," she teased, tossing her phone onto the pillow and swinging her legs to the floor.
Naomi struck a dramatic pose, pressing her hand to her chest. "Tash, darling," she said with mock solemnity, "would you do me the honor of transforming this poor canvas into a masterpiece tonight? I am but a humble maiden in desperate need of your skill."Her exaggerated tone sent Tasha into a fit of laughter that echoed warmly through the room. "Sit," Tasha ordered between giggles, hopping up with a flourish and pulling out the chair at the dressing table. "And don't even try to argue. The last time you attempted eyeliner by yourself, you nearly stabbed your own eye. Never again."Naomi laughed, shaking her head as she crossed the room. "That was one time."
"One tragic time," Tasha corrected, motioning grandly at the seat like she was presenting a throne. "Sit before I start charging you for this."Naomi gave her a mock glare but obeyed, lowering herself onto the chair. The robe rustled softly as she sat, the fabric brushing against her legs. She caught her reflection in the mirror—wide-eyed, bare-faced, her hair damp and slightly tangled—and felt a wave of nerves rise in her chest. She pushed it down, masking it with a smile as Tasha set to work.The dressing table became Tasha's stage. Brushes, palettes, and tiny bottles lined up like instruments, each one waiting for her hand. She began with light foundation, her movements careful, practiced.
Naomi watched her in the mirror, the concentration on her friend's face, the slight purse of her lips as she worked."You know what?" Tasha said suddenly, her lips twitching into a grin. "I'm changing your playlist. When you come back from this dinner, your playlist is going to be brand-new." "Naomi groaned, letting her head fall back dramatically against the chair. "Tash, please. Don't. I love my songs."
"Correction,you love those sad, boring songs," Tasha mumbled, dabbing at her face with a sponge."They are not boring," Naomi argued, turning slightly before Tasha grabbed her chin and redirected it. "They're soulful. They mean something.""Mm-hm," Tasha said, lips twitching in amusement. "Sure. If by soulful you mean depressing. You need music that makes you want to live, not crawl under a blanket and cry tasha said."Naomi chuckled under her breath, her eyes catching her friend's reflection again. "As long as they're good songs, fine. But don't delete the old ones."
"I won't delete anything," Tasha replied.though her sly smile in the mirror said otherwise. It was the classic I'll do it my way look Naomi had known since they were in college. "But I might… hide them. Like a time capsule. Or shove them so deep in your folders you'll need a treasure map to find them."Naomi narrowed her eyes, though her mouth twitched with amusement. She lifted her chin higher, feigning severity. "I'm serious, Tash, don't mess with them." "I know, I know," Tasha said, laughing as she leaned back to check her handiwork, clearly not intimidate by Naomi's attempt at authority. "Don't give me that face. You'll wrinkle before I even get to contouring Tasha said further."Naomi chuckled, though her chest felt tight with anticipation she didn't dare name.
Tasha's laughter was like a safety net, grounding her. If Naomi let her thoughts spiral, she'd lose herself in the nerves already buzzing in her veins. Dinner. Just a business dinner, she told herself. Nothing more.But her heart didn't quite believe her.Tasha moved on to eyeshadow, her brush gliding with light strokes. "You know," she murmured, her voice suddenly soft, "you're going to look like yourself tonight. But better. Not a different you—just the version who remembers she's beautiful."The words pierced deeper than Naomi expected. Her throat tightened, though she disguised it with a smile. "You always know what to say."Before Tasha could reply, a sharp buzz rattled the quiet hum of the room.
Naomi's phone lit up on the table beside them.Both girls froze, their gazes drawn to the glowing name on the screen.Michael.For a split second, the air seemed to still, charged with something Naomi couldn't quite name. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart lurched."Pick it up!" Tasha whispered urgently, her elbow nudging Naomi's arm. Her smirk was immediate, wide, brimming with anticipation. "Don't keep him waiting."Naomi swallowed, her hand hovering above the phone. It trembled slightly as she tapped to accept the call, lifting it to her ear with deliberate calm."Hello," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.On the other end, his tone was smooth, warm. "Hey, Naomi. I'm outside. You ready?"Her pulse skipped, then steadied again. "Yes," she replied softly. "I'll be out in a minute."
Okay," he replied, his tone low, before the call clicked off
The room fell into a silence filled only by Naomi's quickened breaths. She lowered the phone slowly, her cheeks warming, not from the makeup this time but from the effect of Michael's simple words.
"Mm-hmm," Tasha said knowingly, breaking the silence with a victorious grin. "I saw that look. You're not fooling me."
Naomi shook her head, laughing lightly, though her stomach still fluttered. "Don't start."
"Oh, I've already started." Tasha blew her a kiss dramatically as she set the last brush down. "Alright, girlie. Go knock him dead. You look stunning."
Naomi stood, slipping off the robe and revealing the elegant dinner dress that hugged her figure in just the right places. The fabric shimmered under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, catching on the delicate details at the neckline. For a moment, she caught her reflection in the mirror—the sweep of eyeliner, the soft glow of her cheeks, the faint nervous sparkle in her eyes—and almost didn't recognize herself.
Tasha clapped her hands once, stepping back to admire her work. "Oh, yes. Perfection. If he doesn't fall at your feet, then he's blind."
Naomi laughed, smoothing her hands nervously down the sides of her dress. "Alright, I'm going and it's just a business dinner tash," she said, grabbing her clutch.
"See you later, girlie," Tasha called, still grinning as she perched back on the bed.
"See you," Naomi replied over her shoulder, her voice light, though her chest felt heavy with anticipation. She pulled the door open, the sound of her heels clicking softly against the floor as she stepped out into the evening—toward Michael, toward the dinner, toward whatever this night would bring.