Page 61 of The Restoration Program
Nonetheless, Nicole got to work. Applying shades of eyeshadow with her fingers wasn’t as tricky as she feared. It had been well over a month since she touched the stuff, but the choice of colors and blending came back naturally. She took her time, asking Darlene periodically for feedback—which usually consisted of “Go bolder!”
Once they were both pleased with her smokey eyes, Nicole carefully swept the side of the lipstick with her fingertips and sat in front of the mirror to dab it on her lips. She kept the makeup wipe close at hand, smoothing out the edges to perfection.
“Here,” Darlene said.
She took one of the small eyeshadow brushes from her bag and swirled it in the pink blush. She beckoned Nicole closer to the edge of the table and gingerly guided her face to the side. With a light hand, Darlene swept the blush on her cheeks. The bristles were wonderfully soft even at this size, Nicole noted with relief.
“Well, look at you, gorgeous.” Darlene picked up the mirror and held it at Nicole’s eye level.
“Oh!” Nicole’s harlot-red lips parted as she beheld herself. She grazed her jaw with her fingertips, turning her head to get a look at different angles. The Program may have given her a flawless face, but for the first time since waking up in that scaled-down hospital room, she felt like she was looking at the person she used to be.
She grinned, holding back the tears that threatened to ruin all the work from the past half hour.
“Thank you,” Nicole said, pulling her gaze away from the mirror to smile up at Darlene.
“It’s nothing.”
Nicole gave her a soulful look, knowing that her friend understood the gratitude she couldn’t put to words. “So… should we document this occasion?” She threw her hands on her hips, gesturing at the cell phone by Darlene’s hip.
Darlene’s effortless energy was contagious, seeping in as Nicole posed for pictures. She tipped her head back, pouting, and then slipped her tee off one shoulder.
“Okay, you’re giving me Alina Porter vibes,” Darlene said, swiping through the gallery.
The name took a moment to register. The story was new, but had sent a shockwave through the media—the Ukrainian model who had been assaulted within an inch of her life. With her condition deteriorating, she had left her fate in the capable hands of the Restoration Program. Unlike the domestic cases kept mostly under wraps, the Program seemed enthused to have Alina be their poster child for a successful NüPrint transition.
“I’ll leave the modeling to her,” Nicole said.
“You’re doing her a kindness. Look at this one! You should get this framed for Ryan’s birthday.”
“I’m the only thing I want him unwrapping next week.” Nicole could picture it, though—Ryan’s grin as he unwrapped the photograph of his girlfriend posed against a massive laptop and TV remote. Sexy and silly, the way he loved her best.
Or would he justlaugh?
“Luckily, I’ve got a few more days to figure out what else I’m getting him. He nearly finished that bourbon already.”
Darlene locked her phone and smiled warmly. “From what he’s said, I’m sure he’s just glad to be spending time with you.”
“Please, you’re as sappy as he is,” Nicole chuckled, rolling her eyes.
A tell-tale rustle at the front door indicated that they were no longer alone. Nicole’s heart skipped a beat.
“Oh, he’ll go down on you forsuretonight,” Darlene purred.
“Shut up,” she said, her blush deepening with every one of Ryan’s approaching steps.
He appeared in the doorway and she straightened, standing on the arm of the sofa. He set down his satchel and looked between the two girls with a slow, bemused smile.
“What’s going on?” he said, playfully innocent. “You look like you’ve got a hot date.”
“Just dabbed on a little lipstick.” Nicole struggled to keep her coy smile in place as she craned her neck at Ryan’s approach. “You don’t like it?”
“I love it.” He crouched to get a closer look. “Red’s always been a good color on you.” The room dropped away when he brushed his thumb over her blushing cheek.
“Is that all?” she pressed.
Ryan grinned and leaned in to kiss her deeply. Fingertips glided down her back, pressing into the curve of her spine.
“Easy tiger, you’re gonna smudge the color,” Darlene said.
