This was his meticulously dressed "Venus," except for that plaid shirt that was somewhat out of place; everything else was perfect.
Without waiting for Skye Brown to respond, the hairstylist immediately helped her with her shopping bags and pushed her into the lounge.
Feeling like a duck being put on the rack, Skye entered the lounge, stood in front of the mirror, hesitated for a while, then sighed—ah, never mind, change it then, she had to change anyway.
Although she was long accustomed to comfortable and casual clothes, she recalled how back in the day, when she occasionally dressed up, Dylan Wellington would look at her with a heated, deep gaze.
Skye picked a form-fitting black dress in front of the mirror.
The precise tailoring highlighted Skye's delicate curves hidden beneath the plaid shirt.
Her long hair, permed and dyed to look extremely languid and romantic, with just a casual comb-through by her slender fingers, exuded endless allure.
