Makeover Mission

Sarah adjusted her sunglasses and turned to check on Portia, who was a few steps behind her, holding a paper bag from the pharmacy. They'd already picked up some essentials—body wash, deodorant, a phone charger, toothbrush—and were making their way down the sunlit street toward the boutique shops clustered near Madison Square. Sarah's heels clicked with purpose. Portia, in contrast, still walked like she was trying to disappear.

That wouldn't do.

"So?" Sarah asked, lips quirking. "How does it feel knowing your whole life just got stripped down to a couch and a man, emphasis on the man?"

Portia gave a tight smile. "Honestly? Weird. I haven't even called Bernice yet."

Sarah lowered her sunglasses and rolled her eyes. "Your girlfriend? Babe, seriously, do you really think you'll have a better chance of being Hank's dream girl if you're a lesbian with a girlfriend? I don't even know why she would make it to the top ten of your priorities right now."

Portia opened her mouth, but Sarah stopped her with a finger lifted.

"I mean, come on," she said, stepping closer, her green eyes flashing. "You said it yourself: you'd do anything for him. Be anything. And nothing is too good for Hank. He should never have to doubt your loyalty. Ever."

Portia blinked. Her voice came out soft. "Yeah… you're right. I don't know what I was thinking."

"I know I'm right," Sarah's tone warmed, almost maternal. "You just got lucky. Not only were you in the right place to meet the right man, but you also got me. If anyone can help you figure out how to reinvent yourself for Hank, it's me. Besides, Hank is a hundred times the man I deserve, so he might has well have both of us."

Portia nodded slowly, a grin forming on her face. The uncertainty that had been on her face had disappeared. In its place was something new: hope.

They rounded the corner and Sarah led them into a small, upscale boutique. Mirrors, velvet chairs, and the scent of expensive perfume hung in the air. Sarah went straight to a rack of satin camisoles and short skirts.

"This is where it starts," she said, holding up a pink silk blouse to Portia's frame. "We've got enough cash to do some damage. First rule? No more hiding. Hank doesn’t go for baggy and boring. He notices women who take care of themselves. Who show themselves off, without apology."

Portia hesitated, running her fingers down a red halter top.

"I haven't worn anything like this in a while. I usually, you know, hide a bit. Men can be so entitled when you dress too revealing."

"Well," Sarah said with a smirk, "you're not who you were before. Now you have a man who is actually in entitled, and if you don't show him the goods, he'll never know what kind of prize he's won."

They took a pile of clothes into the fitting rooms. While Portia changed, Sarah rifled through a display of athletic wear.

"He likes yoga girls, too. The kind who wear leggings like a second skin, you know? Bonus points if you're glistening after a workout. I saw the way his eyes lingered on that paralegal after her lunchtime Pilates class."

Portia emerged wearing a pale blue dress that hugged her hips. Sarah grinned.

"Perfect. Hank's going to lose his mind."

"You think he'll like it?" Portia looked at her reflection, straightening the hem. "I really would do anything for him, you know? Like, if I have to completely reinvent my whole life, become something completely different for him, I'd do it, honestly."

Sarah paused—just for a second. It was like Portia was putting words to her own feelings. The pair had so much in common. Was this what it would have been like to have a sister?

"He'll love it. And I know exactly what you mean," she said softly. "I want to make him so happy. It's like my life mission. Far more than my own happiness. In fact, I don't know if I could ever be happy without him being happy first."

Portia met her gaze in the mirror with a knowing smile, before returning to the changing room and sliding the curtain closed. They understood each other.

Sarah stepped closer and spoke through the curtain. "You and me, we're on the same team now. The way I figure it, I won't always be around to make Hank happy, so having someone else on the team will be very helpful. If we focus our efforts, he won't go a day without feeling loved."

"Team Hank," Portia's voice came from the other side.

"Team Hank," Sarah agreed.

There was a lull in the conversation as Portia focused on the next outfit. Before long the curtain opened once again. She Stood there, a friendly smile on her face, showing off the pink blouse and pencil skirt that Sarah had selected.

"I feel like a different woman," Portia said, running her hands on down the skirt, "I hope it's the kind he likes. What's it like, anyway, with a man?"

"I've never been with a woman, so I'm not sure how I can compare it for you," Sarah said, "But Hank is strong. When I'm with him, I want him to be in control. I want him to feel like he's in control. He's not cruel, just... when a man gets going, it's like a freight train rolling down the track. They have a hard time stopping once it starts, so get yourself ready for him, do what you need to take him in, and then just enjoy it. The most important thing to remember is, even if it doesn't feel good for you, he loves it. Absolutely loves it."

"I like the sound of that," Portia said, blushing.

"Me too. I'm getting excited just thinking about it. And remember this," Sarah added, "you're not just aiming to catch his eye. You're aiming for the full package. Catch his eye, then catch his body... then catch his heart. Now try something on for relaxing around the apartment."

Again the curtain closed. And again Sarah waited, but this time there was a thrill of excitement bubbling up under her breastbone. She hadn't had much time to think about it, but Portia wasn't the only one who had experienced a revelation. All the years of manipulation, all the years of positioning, only thinking of herself. It was true, she had been obsessed with control, but for whatever reason, she'd had it flipped on its head. That Joey kid was pretty great. He'd seen right through her, shown her what she'd been hiding from, pretending to not feel all these years.

Knowing that she'd been wrong, and knowing that there was still a way to make it right, felt freeing. She felt physically lighter, like she could stop pretending, like she could be the woman she was meant to be all along.

The curtain opened and a vision walked out. Gone was the woman who hid herself behind baggy band t-shirts. In her place was a perfect illustration of femininity. An incredible satin nightgown with a lace neckline hung on her body like a masterpiece in a gallery. Sarah was in no means gay, but she could see Portia through Hank's eyes, and felt more than a little aroused.

"You don't think it's too much, do you?" Portia's voice was a little shy.

"No," Sarah answered, "It's perfect."

Hank won't know what hit him.