I'm toodistracted by the damn tear meandering down my cheek, warm and wet andembarrassing as hell.Tell him the truth, I tell myself, but I don't. He's...long been friends,of a sort, with my sister, but, out of respect for me, Raquel alwayskept my secret from him. I won't explain myself, either. Not now, notever."Will you at least tell me why?"I shake my head, biting my lower lip. The tears are coming faster now."No," I manage to croak.He crosses the room, sits beside me. As I watch him, he seems. Instead, he changed the subject.“Can I emphasize a point, Mrs Thyme? I don’t want my girls caked in make-up. Less is more, in my view. Do whatever you feel is right in the way of hair, clothes and jewellery, etc., but minimal cosmetics to achieve the look you want, if at all possible.”“We are not miracle-workers, Mr Robertson, but we pride ourselves on our talents. I agree with you on the quantity of make-up. The artistry is how to put it on to achieve the desired effect. All my staff are fully. More

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