Page 7 of Once Upon a Holiday Vacation
Laura's eyes suddenly widened, and she snapped her fingers. “I've got it! What you need is a makeover.”
My stomach dropped. “A... makeover?” I stammered, nearly fumbling the delicate glass ornament in my hands.
“Trust me. A little update to your look could do wonders for your confidence,” she insisted, her enthusiasm infectious.
I glanced down at my worn sweater and faded jeans, then thought of Weston's effortless style. My heart raced at the idea of impressing him, but fear gripped me too. “I don't know, Laura. I'm not sure I'd even recognize myself.”
“That's the point!” She grinned, practically bouncing. “Just think about how Weston's jaw will drop when he sees you.”
I bit my lip, torn between excitement and anxiety. What if I looked ridiculous? What if Weston hated it? But then I imagined his blue eyes widening in appreciation, and my resolve strengthened.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “Let's do it.”
Laura’s loud squeal echoed throughout the quite building and I quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard us. Luckily, it was almost closing time, and the library was fairly empty.
The next day, she dragged me through what felt like every store in the mall. I trailed behind her, feeling like a fish out of water as she piled clothes into my arms.
“Try these on,” she commanded, shoving me into a changing room.
I stared at my reflection, barely recognizing the man in fitted dark jeans and a soft emerald sweater that brought out the green in my hazel eyes.
“Well?” she called impatiently.
I stepped out, tugging at the hem of the sweater. “I feel... exposed,” I admitted.
Laura's eyes lit up. “You look amazing! Weston won't be able to take his eyes off you.”
I narrowed my gaze at her. “I’m not doing this for Weston. We’re just friends,” I reminded her.
She waved a hand through the air like my words had no meaning. “Fine, fine. Forget I even mentioned him. Besides, you’ll be too busy fighting off every other man aboard that ship.” She leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper, “Even the ones with wives.”
I swatted her arm as I tried and failed to cover up a laugh. “You’re so wrong.”
“So wrong I’m right?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows at me.
I shook my head at her antics. “Come on, I’ll buy you an iced coffee from the food court later if you promise to stop causing trouble.”
As we moved from store to store, I found myself slowly warming to the process. I even dared to suggest a leather jacket that reminded me of one Weston often wore.
“Now you're getting it!” Laura cheered, adding it to our pile.
By the end of the day, exhausted but exhilarated, I looked at the bags surrounding us. “Do you really think this will make a difference?” I asked softly.
She squeezed my hand. “The clothes don't make the man, Easton. But they can help you see yourself the way others already do—as someone incredible.”
I smiled, a newfound confidence blooming in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, this cruise would change everything.
The buzz of the hair clippers filled my ears as I sat in the salon chair, my heart racing. I watched in the mirror as long locks of my dark hair fell to the floor, each snip feeling like a step further from my comfort zone.
“You're going to love this,” the stylist, Mia, assured me with a wink. “Trust the process.”
I nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in my stomach. As Mia worked her magic, I couldn't help but wonder what Weston would think. Would he even recognize me?
“Almost done,” Mia announced, reaching for my new glasses. Laura had talked me into trading in my old wire-rimmed frames for a black hipster pair. She gently placed them on my face, adjusting them slightly. “Take a look.”
I blinked, staring at my reflection in disbelief. My hair was shorter on the sides, longer on top, styled in a way that accentuated my facial features. The glasses, sleeker than my old ones, made my hazel eyes pop.
“Is that... me?” I whispered, barely recognizing the man in the mirror.
