That was comforting until I noticed how many cosmetics were sitting there anyway.
I kept staring at the collection as Sera followed my gaze.
“Most of those will not be used.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Her expression suggested she found my relief slightly excessive.
“The makeup will mostly be around your eyes. You prefer them slightly more defined when conducting business. A restrained lipstick as well.”
That matched what Evelyn had told me last night. Without makeup, her face looked noticeably younger; with the right amount around the eyes, some of that softness disappeared without making it obvious she was trying to hide her age.
“And the jewellery?”
“Nothing excessive.”
I kept staring at her until she gave up and began counting.
“Sapphire earrings, a necklace, your watch, and perhaps a bracelet.”
I stared at her.
“That qualifies as nothing excessive?”
“For a normal workday, yes.”
I supposed I had asked the wrong person.
My gaze dropped toward my hands. The sapphire-blue polish covering Evelyn’s neatly manicured nails suddenly seemed much more appropriate than it had when I first noticed it, since combined with her eyes, it gave her appearance a small but distinctive splash of color without undermining the severity of the black-and-white outfit.
At least I wouldn’t need to do anything about those.
Sera checked the time again.
“You should go. The bathroom is accessible through the door beside the dressing area.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her pale eyes narrowed slightly, as though she was offended by the way I had addressed her.
Good. I had meant to annoy her.
I only hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite me later.
I headed toward the bathroom before she could respond, and the moment I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it and exhaled.
Yesterday, becoming Evelyn had required no effort at all. One badly behaved Awakening and a blink had handled everything for me, whereas intentionally becoming Evelyn apparently required considerably more work.
I turned toward the mirror.
The woman staring back at me looked thoroughly unprepared for a morning at one of the most powerful companies in Arc City. Her long hair was tangled from sleep, her face was bare yet exceptionally beautiful, and my tank top still clung awkwardly around her chest.
In less than an hour, Sera somehow intended to turn this me into the Executive Vice President and designated heir of Vale Group.
I wished her luck, although considering I was the raw material she had worked with for years, perhaps I was the one who needed it.
I stepped through the door beside the dressing area and closed it behind me.
For a moment, I simply stood there.
Twenty minutes.
Normally, that would have been more than enough time for a shower. Then again, normally I didn’t have hair reaching halfway down my back, breasts large enough to interfere with my field of vision, or an assistant waiting outside to dress me in a skirt afterward.
I pulled the tank top over my head.
The fabric stretched tightly across my chest before finally slipping upward. As it dragged across my nipples, the friction sent a surprisingly sharp tingle through them, enough to make me pause with the shirt still tangled around my arms.
“Seriously?”
Apparently, sleeping hadn’t made those any less sensitive.
I freed myself from the shirt and dropped it aside.
Without the fabric holding them in place, my breasts settled naturally against my chest, swaying slightly from the movement before becoming still. I had already seen them while changing last night, so the sight itself shouldn’t have been particularly remarkable anymore, although that didn’t stop my eyes from lingering.
I’m getting far too accustomed to seeing these.
Now it was time to remove the navy shorts.
I hooked my thumbs beneath the waistband and pushed them downward, and getting them past my hips quickly reminded me why I had struggled while putting them on yesterday. The waistband stretched over the wider curve of my hips and caught briefly against my fuller backside, while the fabric clung closely around my thighs instead of simply falling away.
Once they cleared my hips, the worst of the resistance disappeared, but the shorts still hugged my upper thighs closely enough that they refused to simply fall, forcing me to tug them down a little at a time until the fabric finally loosened around my knees and I could step out of them properly.
I nudged them aside.
That left the underwear.
The midnight-blue thong looked even smaller without the shorts covering it. Its narrow waistband followed the curves of my hips closely, while the thin strips at the sides disappeared around them and left most of my backside completely bare.
I turned slightly without really meaning to, and the mirror immediately confirmed what I had already felt every time I sat down or pulled clothing over this body: Evelyn’s backside was considerably fuller and rounder than I had imagined, while the tiny amount of fabric disappearing between the cheeks did almost nothing to conceal it.
That cannot possibly be comfortable.
Except, annoyingly, it was. At some point during the night, I had apparently stopped noticing it altogether.
I slipped my fingers beneath the thin waistband at both hips and began pulling it down.
The fabric stretched easily at first, then dragged lightly over the widest part of my hips. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other and eased it lower, watching the dark-blue material slide over my fair skin until the waistband passed low enough for the narrow strip between my legs to finally loosen.
That produced a much more noticeable sensation.
The soft fabric slid across the sensitive skin between my thighs as I lowered it, brushing along places my old underwear had obviously never touched in quite the same way, and a small shiver went through me.
I paused.
Seriously?
Apparently, taking off underwear had joined the steadily growing list of ordinary activities Evelyn’s body had decided to make into a challenge. I could hardly imagine how she put up with these things in her daily life.
Perhaps that was part of why she seemed to be enjoying our swap so much.
She had spent her entire life in a body that seemed determined to report every touch in unnecessary detail. Mine, by comparison, was rougher, sturdier, and considerably less sensitive.