Kathryn Lilley: Makeovers Can Be Murder

″No, it isn′t,″ Evelyn countered. ″You just have to have some faith in yourself-and in him.″

When I refused to open my eyes, she added nervously, ″I′ll go find some tanning cream. It does miracles for minimizing.″ She bolted from the dressing room.

Make him heel. I′d never dream of playing manipulative games like that with Jonathan. But here was a harsh countertruth: Only women who have great bodies could play those games. I wasn′t even qualified to step onto the field.

I′d observed plenty, though. For example, I′d noticed that whenever Jonathan and I were out together, the women who entered his radius warmed to his British accent and blue-green eyes, which ignited whenever a smile cracked through his homicide cop′s reserve.

Jonathan had never given me any cause to suspect that he paid attention to come-hither signals from other women. But then why had he stopped calling me daily from the UK? Something bad was obviously going on. Maybe his mom had gotten worse.

Or maybe the problem was with me. Jonathan had looked baffled-and a little pissed-right before he left for the UK, when I′d refused for the umpteenth time to let him join me in my morning shower. As always I′d been too embarrassed to explain that it wasn′t because I didn′t want him with me; I′d simply wanted to spare him the vision of my soft surplusage. He hadn′t spoken to me again before leaving for the airport. Not even to say good-bye.

″Smart move, Bloberella,″ I said. A hot, slow-moving tear slid down my nose and splashed onto my upper lip. I swiped it away with the back of my hand.

It wasn′t only Jonathan′s sudden bout of incommunicado that was bothering me. My reflection in the mirror forced me to admit that I was a failure on several fronts. Two years earlier, I′d made the move south to Durham from my original hometown of Boston with two goals in mind-to lose weight and to get hired as a TV reporter. I′d won the job, but now it seemed like I might be losing my edge. And I was heavier than ever.

Then go find an easier job, stupid. Become a fat, happy bread baker. Break up with Jonathan before he dumps you. Run away again.

My cell alarm beeped from deep inside my purse, interrupting my reverie of gloom and doom; it was 11:40. I′d have to scramble to make it on time for my lunch with Jana. No more time to gnaw at my paw with self-destructive thoughts.

I squeezed myself back into my waist cincher, then got dressed and tracked down Evelyn to say good-bye.

Minutes later I was threading my way through the mall parking lot toward my car. Tiny, dark crows of worry had started to gather at the edges of my thoughts about my relationship with Jonathan. Surely he′d banish all those shadows as soon as we had a chance to actually speak over the phone. Evelyn was probably right-I just had to have a little faith. And patience.

Unfortunately, patience has never been my strong suit. It′s a character flaw that gets me into trouble all the time.

An hour later I was huddled deep in the recesses of a corner booth at Becca′s Bistro, still waiting for Jana to show. She′d called to say she was running late because her appointment with the plastic surgeon had run into overtime.

I was hiding my face behind an oversized leather menu, trying to avoid landing on the radar of reporter Lainey Lanston. I′d spotted my newsroom rival on my way into the main dining room. Her perfectly tailored back was turned to me, and she was engaged in a schmoozefest with a city councilman named Floyd McElroy.

Floyd was beloved by local reporters for his habit of leaking city hall gossip like a cracked gin bottle the moment he started his daily drinking ritual. And from the glow of the red moons waxing in his cheeks, I could tell that Floyd was already two fizzy gimlets to the wind.

The sight of them dining together filled me with dread. I wondered what kind of information Lainey was pumping from the councilman. I′d been planning to track down Floyd myself this morning, to discuss a lead I′d developed about the head of the city′s animal control department who′d gotten caught up in a sex scandal. I′d held off calling him in order to shop for the goddamn bikini story and make my lunch with Jana.

Maybe Lainey had already gotten wind of the animal house allegations. Recently it felt as if she was shadowing my news sources-she′d even snatched a couple of major stories out from under me. If I was losing my edge, I might soon find myself replaced by Beatty′s newest newsroom pet. What exactly would I do if I got canned? There wasn′t another TV station in town-I′d have to move. What would that mean for my relationship with Jonathan? We′d never had a conversation about where we were going as a couple. Maybe that had been a mistake.

Jana appeared at the entrance to the dining room. ″Hi, Kate!″ she called out in a voice loud enough to soar above the din of the dining room.

She made a clacking trek across the stone floor in a pair of white slides and matching Bermudas. Behind her coppery bangs, her hair was sleeked back into in a low, short ponytail.

I peeked over the top of the menu to give her a smile and half wave, then sank back down to stay out of Lainey′s line of sight-I could just imagine her smug expression if she spotted me having a civilian lunch with a friend while she was working a news source.

″Phew-that was totally depressing,″ Jana said, sliding into the upholstered booth opposite me. ″I just had my ′before′ pictures taken at Dr. Medina′s office for my body lift. Thank God no one else ever sees those shots.″

I stared at my slender friend in disbelief. ″Why are you even thinking about having more plastic surgery, Jana? Those Bermudas are what, a size one? Your calves are like pencils. You look absolutely perfect.″

Her mouth corkscrewed down on one side. ″These shorts don′t show it, but I have tons of loose skin on my upper thighs,″ she said. ″I lost over a hundred pounds on the Fruit Diet, remember? Everything′s hanging now, especially my breasts. Just ask Gavin-I′m sure he′ll be delighted to tell you how disgusting I look naked.″

″I′m sure Gavin doesn′t think you′re-″

Jana′s face froze as a busboy brought us two glasses of ice water. When he withdrew, she shook her head firmly. ″Our marriage is over, Kate,″ she said. ″When he′s not at the track, Gavin spends all his time on the computer. I found his password-I have to admit I was looking for it-and discovered a bunch of e-mails he sent to a girlfriend. Her name is Candy. Candy , can you believe that? How revolting. And here′s the worst-he sent her naked videos of himself.″

″Oh God.″

″I gather she′s not the first one, either. He told her how totally repulsed he is by the sight of me. He said my body looks like a Michelin tire woman that got the air let out.″ Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her face toward the wall.

″Oh, Jana.″ Laying aside the menu, I reached across the table for her hand. ″I′m so sorry.″

Jana stared down at my hand on hers. ″I really thought Gavin loved me,″ she whispered. ″Peo ple were too polite to say it to my face, but I know everyone thought he was after my money. The only one brave enough to say it out loud was Shaina. She said she′d seen him with someone else while we were dating. That′s why she wouldn′t come to the wedding. I thought she was just jealous and trying to break us up.″