They decided to meet up in front of a beauty salon on rue de Rivoli. Eva felt overwhelmed by the size of the city and just how many people there were in the streets. She glanced at her watch; he was late. She was starting to have second thoughts, when, suddenly, the Frenchman appeared right in front of her.

"You're la-"

"Oui, je sais. Viens, ma chérie, everything is ready." He took her hand and guided her inside, leaving her no chance to object. Slovakia wanted to say something, but as soon as they entered, she remained lost for words.

Beautiful women. Beautiful women everywhere. Having their hair or makeup done, doing others' hair or makeup, trying on clothes, picking cheek blushes, running around with important looks on their faces. Even the cleaning lady looked somewhat groomed.

"Bonjour, Francis!" three women cried out in unison, waking Eva up from the shock.

They were perfect from head to toe, it was almost intimidating. One of them was dragging a trolley filled with clothes, the one next to her holding an amount of make up the Slav had never seen in one person's arms before. The third one had golden scissors in her hand.

"Bonjour, Mesdemoiselles! You look particularly beautiful today," he said seductively and the three of them immediately started to chuckle.

"This is my friend I've told you about." He gestured at Eva.

"Err… Bonjour…" She grew nervous, realizing the women were already scanning her for all her flaws.

"Well, let's start then," he said. "Are you ready, ma chérie?"

Something feels wrong, but I just can't put my finger on it. Eva was about to open her mouth to agree when it hit her. She turned to look at him.

"You are not doing this for free, are you? What will you be wanting in return?"

For a moment she felt bad about being so direct. Then, she remembered he had called her a farm girl a while ago and relaxed.

France gave her his most charming smile.

"Don't worry about it now. I'm sure we will find something we'll both enjoy." He winked at her.

This is exactly why I worry, you know, she thought.

"That is not happening. But we can have a drink."

The blond raised an eyebrow.

"We'll have a dinner. And you'll help me enjoy myself, at least." He grinned again.

"We'll have a dinner and I kiss you on the cheek," she retorted, businesslike.

"On the mouth," Francis requested.

"No tongue."

"Agreed!" he laughed. "You're difficult to negotiate with, ma chérie. Remind me never to do business with you."

What a moron, Eva mentally sighed. What is he trying to achieve, teasing me like this?

The man probably understood what she was thinking, so he tried to speed things up.

"Ladies, please take care of my friend here. I'm leaving you a girl and I want to see a femme when I get back."

Eva was exhausted. She had just spent three hours being the girls' doll, trying on different hairstyles, clothes and makeup and taking note of every single advice they provided. Having no energy left, she collapsed on a nearby couch and wondered if it all was worth anything.

"Don't you want to have a look at yourself?" one of the girls asked. The three of them seemed quite satisfied with their work.

I might as well, the eighteen-year-old thought. It's the least I can do to thank them for their effort.

She stood up to approach them, smiling timidly. They opened a curtain for her, revealing a giant mirror. Eva gasped.

There was someone she'd never met before staring back at her.

She was… stunning. Her hair was tied in simple-looking but elegant chignon with several strands out, making her face seem thinner. Her skin looked shiny and healthy, the violet shadows bringing out the green of her eyes. So did the tight, dark-green dress with silvery buttons. Last but not least, the kitten heels made her look and feel… different. Feminine.

"Wow… Just… wow," she breathed.

"I told you so," she heard the familiar voice say before noticing the blond behind her, smugness written all over his face.

"Now let's go get the dinner you promised me, d'accord?"

-END OF CHAPTER 2-

Translations (French):

Oui, je sais. Viens, ma chérie. = Yes, I know. Come, my dear.
D'accord? = Alright?