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Before he can respond, I hustle down the hallway to my suite.
As I reach for the doorknob, I realize someone has taped a sealed envelope on the door at eye level. It has my name scrawled on it in beautiful calligraphy. I tear the envelope away from the door and go inside, while my curiosity grows with every passing second. I hurry over to the bed and sit on its edge as I tear the envelop open and pull out the ivory-colored card.
Vanessa, you are invited to our inaugural body-paint masquerade party. Our artist will create a costume specially for you, so please stop by Room 128 at seven forty-five pm. We hope you will enjoy this unique event.The note is signed "The Au Naturel Staff."
I can't deny I'm getting excited about this party.
On the back of the note, instructions have been written. I'm supposed to shower before six o'clock and not apply any lotions, powders, perfumes or similar things that might make applying the paint more difficult. Surely this party won't be too wild. It might be a nudist resort, but this isn't a den of debauchery.
I hang out on my private patio, under the shade of the palm tree hut, and let the sounds of the ocean lull me into a half-asleep state. I'd set the alarm on my nightstand to wake me up by five o'clock in case I fall asleep. I don't expect that to happen, and I don't realize I've drifted off until the alarm blares. Time to go to the dining hall for a little snack, then shower in preparation for the big party.
Now, the moment has arrived. Am I really going to let a stranger spray-paint my body? Well, why the hell not? I brush my teeth and my hair, then check the resort map in my welcome packet to find out where Room 128 is located.
A few minutes later, I knock on the door.
It swings open, and Holly Bythesea grins at me. "I'm so glad you're here, Vanessa. The party will be so much fun."
She's already "dressed" for the masquerade. She seems to have chosen a costume reminiscent of a blue fairy, complete with delicate wings that fold around her torso and cover breasts. Well, not actually. The artist who painted her up has done an incredible job, so good in fact that I can hardly believe it isn't a real costume.
"Wow, Holly, you look amazing. Do we pick our own costumes? Or does the artist choose?"
"It's a collaboration." She twirls around. "Do you really like it?"
"Yes. I can't wait to get my costume done."
Holly sidles past me, and as she leaves, she whispers, "Remember, the paint is edible."
Why do people keep reminding me of that fact? It's bizarre.
I shuffle into Room 128, half expecting to meet a goth person who has a stainless steel nose ring and lip piercings, not to mention black leather clothing and pink, spiked hair. But no, the woman who stands at a small table, fussing with a spray-paint gun dresses like a normal person.
When she notices me, she smiles and offers me her hand. "You must be Vanessa. I'm Lucy. I can't wait to work with you on finding the perfect painted costume. You have a lovely figure, so it won't be hard at all to make you look incredible."
"Thank you. I'm looking forward to this. I've never had any kind of body-paint costume before."
"Would you mind spinning around for me, slowly? I'd like to get the full picture before we talk about costumes."
"Sure." I turn in a circle while she studies me like I'm an abstract painting in a museum. "That's enough. Let's spitball ideas."
I stand where Lucy tells me to and follow her instructions about when to lift this arm and when to lift that arm. She focuses on her work intently as she creates a sort of trompe l'oeil effect on my skin so that my bare feet seem to be covered by boots. Once she finishes painting my body, Lucy adds the final touches---streaks in my hair and a few props. When I look at myself in a full-length mirror, I can't believe what I see. This body-paint costume would probably fool anybody on the street. It looks that real.
Yet I'm still abiding by the resort rules of no clothes.
As I take one last look at myself in the mirror, I need to ask a question. "How do I get this stuff off after the party?"
"You can wash it off in the shower," Lucy says. "Or you could let your partner lick it off. The paint is edible, after all."
"Oh, right," I say with a nervous laugh, because an image of Craig just flashed in my mind. No, he will not lick my body clean. It would be inappropriate. "I don't have a partner, so I'll be washing it off. Do I use regular bath soap?"
"Sure. Any kind you like."
I turn away from the mirror, facing Lucy. "You are an incredible artist. Thank you for making a middle-aged mom look so good."
"You look great without any body paint. I just gave you a little more pizzazz. Enjoy the party, Vanessa."
I walk out the door and return to my suite, per the resort's instructions for this event. At precisely eight-thirty, I make my way out to the main patio. A thrill ripples through me, though I can't imagine why. This is just a party. But that sensation refuses to go away. I step out onto the patio and glance around, taking in the sensual lighting and music, as well as the guests who are gradually arriving. Zach waves to me, in a strictly friendly way since he has a pretty girl tucked under his arm.
Then I see Craig, and my jaw drops.
