“What does the other guy look like?” he teased her lightly, and she smiled, suddenly acutely aware of the bruises on her face and remains of two black eyes. And she wondered if he had guessed why. He looked more serious then as he chatted with her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a joke of it. It looks painful. It must have been a nasty accident. Car or ski?” he asked matter-of-factly. Victoria hesitated, with a look of confusion, and she didn’t know what to say. Nose job sounded a lot worse to her, and would have made her feel foolish to a stranger.

“Car,” she said simply as they pedaled along.

“I figured. Did you have your seatbelt on, or was it the air bag? People don’t realize how easily you can break your nose with an air bag. I know several people who have.” She nodded as a blanket yes and felt really stupid. “I hope you sue the hell out of whoever hit you,” he said, still sympathetic, assuming immediately that it was the other guy’s fault, not hers. “Sorry. I’m a lawyer. I get litigious at the drop of a hat. There are so many drunk drivers on the road over the holidays, and bad ones, it’s a wonder more people don’t get killed. You were lucky.”

“Yes, I was.” Very. I got a new nose, she thought to herself, but didn’t say it.

“I just came back from skiing in Vermont with my sister. She was with me the last time I saw you. The poor thing was minding her own business and got hit by a kid out of control on a snowboard and broke her shoulder. She came out from the Midwest to spend the holidays with me, and now she goes back with a broken shoulder. It’s really painful. She was a good sport about it.” Victoria was staring at him, with the information that the beauty he’d had with him was his sister. So where was his wife? She checked, and he had no wedding ring on, but a lot of men didn’t wear them, so that meant nothing. And even if he wasn’t married or didn’t have a girlfriend, she couldn’t imagine him wanting her, even with her new nose. She was still a “big girl,” even with a smaller, better nose.

He pointed to her sweatshirt then. “Northwestern? My sister graduated from there.”

“Me too,” Victoria said in a hoarse croak, which had nothing to do with her surgery. She was too dazzled by him to speak.

“Great school. Shit weather though. I wanted to get out of the Midwest after growing up there, so I went to Duke.” It was in North Carolina and one of the best schools in the country, Victoria knew. She tried to help her students get in there all the time. “My brother went to Harvard. My parents still brag about it. I couldn’t get in,” he said modestly with a grin. “I went to law school at NYU, which is how I wound up here. What about you? Native New Yorker or other?” He was chatting away as they rode the bikes, and it felt very surreal to her, riding along next to this gorgeous man who was telling her about his family, his education, where he came from, and asking about her. And he acted like her face was normal and not black and blue, and she didn’t have two black eyes. He looked at her as though she was pretty, and she wondered if he was blind.

“I’m from L.A.,” she answered his question. “I moved here after college. I teach at a private school.”

“That must be interesting,” he said pleasantly. “Little kids or big ones?”

“High school seniors. English. They’re a handful, but I love them.” She smiled, hoping she didn’t look like a ghoul. But he didn’t seem to think so, and didn’t look bothered by it at all.

“That’s a tough age, judging by myself anyway. I gave my parents a tough time in high school. I stole my dad’s car and totaled it twice. That’s easy to do on black ice in Illinois. I was lucky I didn’t get killed.” He mentioned after that that he had grown up in a suburb of Chicago, and she could guess that it was an affluent one. Despite the workout clothes, he looked well heeled, had a good haircut, was well spoken, polished, polite, and was wearing an expensive gold watch. She looked like a bum, and always went to the gym that way, and hadn’t had a manicure in over a week. It was the one luxury she always indulged in, but she hadn’t gone since the surgery. She didn’t want to scare anyone, explain her bandages, and she wasn’t going out anyway. Now here she was next to the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, and she hadn’t combed her hair and didn’t even have nail polish on.

Their bikes stopped at almost the same time, and they both got off. He said he was going to the steam room, and with a warm smile he stuck out his hand.

“I’m Collin White, by the way.”

“Victoria Dawson.” They shook hands, and after a few inane words, she picked up her things and left, and he headed to the steam room, and stopped to chat with a man he knew along the way. Victoria was still thinking about him when she walked home. She felt good after some exercise at the gym, and he’d been nice to talk to. She hoped she would see him again.

Her doctor was right, and by the time she went back to school, she could cover most of what was left of the bruising with makeup. There was a faint shadow still around her eyes, but she looked pretty good, and the swelling had come down a lot around her nose. Not all the way, but close. And she loved her new nose. She felt like she had a whole new face. She couldn’t wait to see her parents in June and watch their reaction, if they noticed. The difference seemed enormous to her.

She had just taught her last class of the day, after helping half a dozen students with the college essays they hadn’t finished and were now panicked about, when three of the girls were lingering in the classroom, talking. One of them was the student who had had the breast reduction over Christmas, and the same threesome who had discussed it before. They were best friends. They went everywhere together at school.

“How did it go?” Victoria asked cautiously. She didn’t want to be too intrusive. “Not too painful, I hope.”

“It was great!” the girl said, pulling up her sweatshirt and exposing her bra, since there were no boys in the room at the time. “I love my new boobs! I wish I’d done it sooner!” And then she looked at Victoria intently, as though seeing her for the first time, and in some ways she was, parts of her anyway. “Omigod! You did it!” She was staring at the middle of Victoria’s face, and the other two girls looked too. “I love your new nose!” she said emphatically, and Victoria blushed to the roots of her hair.

“Can you tell?”

“Yes… no… I mean, you didn’t look like Rudolf before. But it’s a definite subtle difference. That’s how it’s supposed to be. People aren’t supposed to shriek and know you did it. You’re just supposed to look better and no one can figure out why. Your nose is great! Watch out though, it’s addictive. My mom does something all the time. Chin implants, botox, new boobs, lipo. Now she wants to reduce her thighs and calves. I’m happy with my boobs,” the girl said, looking pleased.

“And I love my nose,” Victoria admitted happily, since they were all so much more sophisticated than she was, and familiar with the process. “I actually decided to do it after talking to you. You made me feel brave. I’d never dared to do it before.”

“Well, you did good,” she congratulated her, and gave Victoria a high-five.

They all left the room together, and passed Amy Green and Justin in the hall. She smiled broadly at Victoria. She hadn’t admitted the pregnancy yet at school, and it still didn’t show, although it would soon. She was young and her muscles were tight, and she was dressing carefully to conceal it. Justin was constantly with her protecting her like a security man guarding the Hope diamond. They were sweet to watch. “He follows her around like a puppy,” one of the girls said, rolling her eyes as they walked by.

Victoria thanked the girls again for their good advice and went to her office to pick up some files she wanted to take home. She was touched by their praise of her new nose. She loved it too. She wondered for a minute then if she should have a breast reduction too, and then she remembered what the girls had said, that plastic surgery was addictive and some women didn’t know where to stop. She was going to stop here, with her nose. She’d have to work the rest off the hard way, and she was working at it steadily. The wedding was five months away.

She ran into Collin White again that night at the gym, and they chatted easily as they rode the bikes. He told her what law firm he worked at on Wall Street and that he was a litigator. It was an important firm, and his job sounded interesting to her. And she told him where she taught. He had heard of the school. They talked about nothing in particular, and when they got off the bikes, he surprised her and asked her if she wanted to go for a drink across the street. She looked as big a mess as she had before, and couldn’t believe that he’d ask her anywhere or want to be seen with her. He asked her again as though he really meant it, and she nodded, put on her coat, and followed him across the street, wondering why he’d want to have a drink with her.

They both ordered wine, and she asked how his sister’s shoulder was after the snowboard accident.

“Painful, I think. Those things take a while, and you can’t do much with a shoulder, except time. She was lucky she didn’t need surgery when it happened.”

He asked more about the school where she worked then, and why she’d gone into teaching, and about her family. She told him she had a sister who was seven years younger, had just graduated from USC the previous June, and was getting married in five months.

“That’s pretty young,” he commented, looking surprised. “Especially these days.” He had told her he was thirty-six, and she said she was twenty-nine.

“I think so too. Our parents got married at that age, right out of college, but people did that more then. Nowadays, nobody gets married at twenty-three, which she will be in June. I was hoping she’d wait, but she won’t. It’s all about the wedding. My whole family is temporarily insane,” she said with a rueful grin. “At least I hope it’s temporary. They’re driving me nuts.”