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My butt barely hits the seat before she’s on me with a brush and what feels suspiciously like an entire can of hairspray. I try to peek in the mirror, but she swats my hand away.

“Trust the process. Or, at least, trust me. I was born to make you a bombshell.”

Dee’s approach to makeup is aggressive, but also weirdly nurturing. She pulls my hair back, gets right in my face, and starts dabbing and brushing and sweeping like she’s prepping a supermodel for a shoot, all the while keeping up a steady stream of pep talk.

“I’m just saying,” she says, as she does something alarming to my eyebrows, “Nathan is going to lose his damn mind when he sees you.”

My stomach swoops, and I almost choke on a sip of coffee. “He’s seen me before. It’s not like I’m suddenly going to turn into a Victoria’s Secret model just because I have fake eyelashes.”

She snorts. “First of all, those models wish they had your ass. Second, I’ve watched him stare at you for years. You just don’t notice because you’re too busy trying to hide how you feel.”

“I don’t—” I try to argue, but she wields the brow pencil like a sword, and I shut up.

“He looks at you like you’re the last cinnamon roll on earth.” Dee leans back to examine her handiwork, then nods, satisfied. “He’s obsessed, Roni. Trust me. The dude only goes beast mode if someone messes with you. Remember freshman year, when that asshole called you chubby in the dining hall?”

Oh, God. I remember. It was one of the most mortifying moments of my life, mostly because Nathan found out about it, and the next day, the guy showed up to class with a black eye and a story about “falling down the stairs.” To this day, I’ve never asked Nathan about it, but the way he glared at the guy for the rest of the semester said plenty.

I try to laugh it off. “He’s just… protective. He treats me like his little sister.” I grimace at the words. “Which is exactly why he will never see me as anything else.”

Dee levels me with a look. “Roni. You are the least sisterly thing in Nathan’s world. If he wanted a sister, he’d call his actual family. He wants you, and tonight, you’re going to make him lose his mind.” She grins, then resumes her work, blending bronzer with the focus of a bomb squad technician.

I stand to look in the mirror and… wow. My face is still my face, but it’s more defined, more alive. The blue in my eyes is brighter, my cheekbones have apparently entered the chat, and my lips look full and glossy without being clownish.

Dee stands behind me and gives my shoulders a squeeze. “You’re a freaking bombshell, Veronica Lewis. Remember that.”

My hands are shaking as I smooth the dress over my hips. I don’t look like myself, but maybe that’s the point. Maybe the only way to do this auction thing is to pretend I’m someone who could actually pull it off.

Dee pulls out a tiny black clutch and stuffs it with my phone, lipstick, and a packet of emergency tissues. “Now, come on. We need to get there early so you can meet the other bachelorettes and I can threaten to murder anyone who tries to haze you.” She winks. “Girl code.”

I breathe deeply, in and out, then grab my coat and follow her to the door.

We march out into the world, Dee’s arm hooked through mine, the blue dress swirling at my knees, and my heart beating so hard I can barely hear anything else.

Tonight, I’m going to be a bachelorette. And if I’m lucky, maybe Nathan will finally see what’s been right in front of him the whole time.