A Bride at Last by Carolyne Aarsen

curled her hair and taken time to brush her eyelashes with mascara and her eyelids with a faint dusting of gold eye shadow. She couldn’t recall when she’d purchased the rarely worn makeup—maybe for Leslie’s wedding? Or was it Sabrina’s? Nadine was surprised that the old mascara hadn’t dried up.
    “You look very nice,” Grandma said approvingly. “The makeup looks good, as well. Sets off your pretty eyes.”
    “Thanks, Grandma.” Nadine laughed as she bentover and kissed Danielle’s cheek. “It’s been so long since I wore makeup, I’m trying not to feel like a store mannequin,” she admitted, sitting down to her breakfast. She also wondered if she was going to make it to the end of the day before the hair hanging around her jawline drove her nuts.
    “Well, you’re going to turn a few heads, I’m sure.” Grandma smiled her approval and Nadine felt a little better. “Clint Fletcher won’t recognize you.”
    “I didn’t do this for my boss,” Nadine said more sharply than she had intended.
    “Of course not.” Danielle smiled. “I’m sure Trace will like the way you look.”
    Nadine was somewhat mollified by her grandmother’s encouraging comments. “Thanks, Grandma.”
    They ate their breakfast in silence, Grandma reading the paper and Nadine going over her notes for the interview she was going to do tomorrow. When Nadine left the apartment she felt ready to face the world.
    “Good morning, Sharlene.” Nadine breezed into the office, pausing at the mail drop to check for any mail or messages.
    Sharlene looked up from an ad she was writing out with a smile that froze on her face when she caught sight of her editor. “Nadine?” she said, her voice weak with surprise.
    Nadine grinned back and flipped a hand through her hair. “Do I look that different today?”
    “Different enough.” Sharlene shook her head.“The Nadine I know wouldn’t wear a skirt except to church, and she certainly would never put on makeup.”
    Nadine smiled as she looked down at the envelopes in her hands. “People change,” she murmured.
    “Do they ever.” Clint’s disbelieving voice behind her made her head snap up.
    Nadine kept her eyes straight ahead, feeling suddenly self-conscious about her clothes, her makeup, her hair.
    What does it matter what he thinks? she reminded herself. He’s just your boss. She curved her lips into a smile and turned to face Clint, who stood in the doorway of his office, one shoulder propped against the doorjamb, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
    A sharp retort to deflect his comment came to mind, but on its heels, Donna’s admonition from the day before. She hesitated, catching his eye. Clint’s expression became serious as the moment stretched out. He straightened, his eyelids lowering slightly, his lips softening. She couldn’t look away and, for some puzzling reason, didn’t want to.
    Flustered, she shuffled through the envelopes, dropping a couple. As she bent to pick them up, other hands beat her to it. Without looking up at Clint, she took them from him and escaped to her office.
    What is wrong with you? she chided herself as she dropped her knapsack on the floor beside her desk. She shook her head as if to rearrange herthoughts and dropped the mail onto her already overflowing desk. Clint Fletcher is your boss, you are Nadine Laidlaw and you dressed up for your date with Trace.
    She walked around her desk to turn on her computer. She had set today aside to clear off some paperwork and do some more work on some of the columns she had written. With a little luck she would be finished by the time Trace came tonight to pick her up.
    She looked over her articles, skipped lunch and headed out to do an interview.
    Trace phoned while Nadine was away, and left the message that he would pick her up from the office a little later than he had originally planned. Nadine didn’t mind. It gave her a little more time to finish off some stories.
    She spent the better part of the