Reunion

“I am not entirely sure about this outfit,” Emily tugged at the bodice of her top, though it was a losing battle. The amount of fabric involved meant that tugging in one direction, revealed more skin in the other.

“Uh-ah, no touching,” Peter the stylist batted her hands away. “No yanking, no tugging, no touching.” He tossed his dead straight, long bleached and perfectly toned white-blonde locks over his shoulder. She suspected it was a lace-weave wig expertly applied, but no amount of discreet scrutiny revealed his hair secrets to her less-than-expert eyes. If it wasn’t a wig, she thought, the man had the best head of hair that she had ever seen.

“No bouncing, no jumping and no breathing,” she repeated by rote his instructions as he had dressed and glued her into her clothing. She did not know the secrets of his double-sided tape, but she suspected that she would not have to wax those areas of her body anytime in the near future once the clothing was removed. “And no reaching above