She put up a hand to tug the stray wisp of hair out of her face, but stopped when she remembered that the hairdresser had lacquered it there on purpose. Wispy was sexy, she'd been assured.Why was it, she silently fumed, that men could come to these things without changing from their business suits? For some insane reason women were expected in "cocktail" wear. The temperature was in the low twenties and dropping with a wind chill designed to freeze an Eskimo and here she was in her ridiculous strappy little heels, her ridiculous strappy red dress, and her ridiculous strappy hairdo. She felt ridiculous.Why had she let Drake chose her clothes for tonight?With as much dignity as she could muster in the tight dress, Miranda tottered to the Ladies Room. Before engaging the enemy she may as well refresh the fire-engine red lipstick that matched the dress.At least the restroom was quiet. An older woman in a well-cut blue evening suit sat at the far end of the mirrored counter.The plan was all Miranda's idea, well mostly.
