‘He fancies you,’ said a voice at Kelly’s elbow. She turned and saw Marianne, Carl’s sister, sipping champagne.

‘He winks at everything in skirts,’ Kelly said, with perfect truth.

‘You’re not wearing a skirt,’ Marianne said, frankly envious. ‘You’re wearing a skin-tight black satin trouser suit that makes me want to kill you just for being able to get into it.’

Kelly chuckled, pleased. Four months ago, when she’d thrown Jake out, she couldn’t have squeezed into this revealing creation. But the misery of their breakup had destroyed her appetite, and by the time she’d pulled herself together she’d lost twenty pounds without even trying.

Her reward was a face that had developed seductive hollows beneath the cheekbones, a crystal-clear jaw-line, and a figure that slid into that tight black satin as though it had been crafted onto her. And she looked fantastic. She knew it. And if she hadn’t known it, the yearning stares of every man there would have told her.

Marianne, a beautician by trade, had completed the transformation, cutting off the mane of hair that Kelly had kept shoulder-length ever since that long-ago day when Jake had run his fingers through it and said he liked a woman with luxurious hair. Now it was barely an inch long, nestling against her head in wispy feathers that gave her a gamine look.

In addition Marianne had ruthlessly banished the sandy colour in favour of a glamorous red, and replaced Kelly’s sedate scent with a musky perfume that was ‘the new you’!

‘It can’t be me,’ Kelly had protested, slightly shocked.

‘It can be if you believe in yourself,’ Marianne had insisted. ‘Go for it!’

So she had, and knew almost at once that the perfume, the flaming hair and the outrageous satin suit were made for each other. Whether they were made for her she still wasn’t quite sure, but it was fun finding out.