"Thanks," I said, flattered. "You're not so bad yourself." And it was true. Since she'd met Jez, her boyfriend, Sammy had blossomed. Dark and slender where I was blond and curvy, she had become more confident and beautiful than ever.

"But you never can be too pretty," I said, surveying the beauty products. "I don't know where to start!"

"I do," said Sammy, cracking open a mini champagne bottle and handing it to me. Good idea, girl, I thought, feeling very glad that Sam was my maid of honor.

After finishing our drinks, we took turns in the shower using the luxurious sugar-and-olive oil body scrubs in the bathroom. Then we both slipped into plush white hotel robes that felt oh so soft on our skin. Next we applied facial masks that were supposed to set but didn't, because we couldn't stop talking. We tried to give each other pedicures, using the foot scrubs and peppermint lotions in the bathroom but kept tickling each other so much that we didn't get very far. Still determined to take full advantage of the free products, Sammy rummaged farther among the beauty supplies.

"What about this?" she asked, holding up a bottle of massage oil. "Want a nice relaxing massage?" I didn't know the first thing about massage and neither did Sammy, but we were determined to get value for money out of these beauty treatments.

"Sure," I said. "I'll do you first. Where're you tense?"

"Backs of my legs," she said. "I've spent too long on that damn step machine trying to get in shape for tomorrow's dress. My thighs might not be wobbly, but they sure are stiff." Sammy lay facedown on the bed and hiked up her robe so that the tops of her thighs and the bottom of her ass were exposed. Her skin was as soft as a peach, and her thighs were lean and slender. I poured a little massage oil onto her smooth skin and, using gentle kneading motions, began to massage her.