Shadows of Doubt (38 page)

“First of all, breathe.” Abby ushered Lou to sit on the bench in the closet. It wasn’t exactly a closet but more of a dressing room that Lou felt was better suited to someone who coveted closet space as so many women do. Abby knelt down in front of Lou and looked at her intently. “You’re nervous about tonight.”

Lou cocked her head sideways at Abby. “Are you reading me?”

“I have ultra puny reading skills so don’t freak out. I really just get the vibe. If I try any harder than that I give myself a headache. Now what are you nervous about? You can tell me! Let me...” Abby looked past Lou, making Lou think perhaps she had a touch of Attention Deficit Disorder. “Oh crap, your dress is gorgeous! You are going to absolutely knock him out tonight!” She bounced up to get a closer look at it. “Oh Lou! This is brilliant! Did you have this made for you?”

“Uh, no. Caroline picked it out for me yesterday.”

Abby turned to goggle at her. “Are you kidding me? How is it possible you found something so utterly perfect for you in one day?! I hate that! Why can’t I do that!”

Lou had to admit, Abby was absolutely darling and had made her feel better already by approving of her dress. She also noticed that Abby was wearing similar sweatpants to the ones she had on, and they were tucked into sheepskin lined boots exactly like the ones Lou had planned on wearing. This was a woman who was the closest to Max next to Frank and Niko from what she had been able to deduce so far. Lou was suddenly feeling much better.

By ten o’clock the girls were being ushered to their private accommodations at the spa and handed soft and squishy robes and slippers to change into. The facilities were sumptuous in golden pink and mocha hues that glowed and gleamed off of every surface. There were overstuffed chairs, overstuffed couches and an equally overstuffed table that was covered in fresh fruits, pastries, pitchers of juices and full tea and coffee service with Lou’s coveted Kopi Luwak brewed to steamy perfection. Margaret Beechum, the manager of the spa, had greeted them personally when they came in the door and with a snap of her fingers had staff fawning all over them.

“I hope that everything meets with your approval, Ms. LaRue.” Beechum flashed her over-bleached smile at Abby. “If there is anything else you need, just inform one of your technicians and they will take care of it for you. I’ll be just a moment away, should you need me.” With a wave to everyone, the glossy Margaret Beechum closed the door behind her.

“Abby! What on earth did you do?! This is beyond decadent!” Caroline did a little twirl in the middle of the room.

“This is far too extravagant, we can’t let you do this, Abby.” Shevaun shook her head as she took in the luxurious surroundings.

“Oh stop! It is so my pleasure! I never get to do anything over the top, and who better to do it with but my girlfriends!” Abby grabbed Caroline’s hands and they twirled together.

“This coffee is Kopi Luwak! Abby, you are a goddess.” Lou was already sipping from a cup and Abby giggled.

“Ladies...” The technician named Lana quietly clapped her hands together to get their attention. “If you all would step into the dressing room and get changed, I’ll escort you to the mud room for your Dead Sea Soak.”

“Mud room? Dead Sea Soak?” Lou looked at Abby curiously.

“Oh yes, its the works for us today ladies!” Abby literally bounced with excitement.

“Now lets get you all ready for your treatments!” Lana clapped again, not as quietly as before. “We had best get started or you ladies will be late for your gala!”

One by one the women filed into the dressing room and came out looking like cotton balls. After a few minutes to relax and enjoy the treats on the table, they were ushered to their next stop on the pamper train. Once Lou had settled into one of the four tubs of black goo, she had to admit it was really nice. There were gauzy curtains to separate each tub for modesty but once everyone was in, the technicians pulled them back so they could all chat and make fun of each other. They soaked for half an hour or so then they were given plastic wraps of a sort so they didn’t have to traipse to the shower naked. Even if they were covered in black goo, it was still a little awkward. The steam room had felt glorious and made Lou very sleepy. If relaxation was the goal, this place had it down without a doubt. She paid little attention to the others’ chatter as she leaned back against the warm tile and let herself drift like the steam that surrounded her. She was going to have to remember to come back and do this again.

After soaking, steaming, being wrapped like mummies, then scrubbed with a finely granulated salt, it was nearly one o’clock and time for the airbrushing. They were all back in the suite but a partition had been set up at the far end of the room along with a low platform. Inga, the tanning specialist, handed them all g-string bikini bottoms only. They were made out of dental floss and a half sheet of paper towel at best. Inga informed them it was optional whether they wore it or not, whatever they were comfortable with. Lou was seriously reconsidering. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that she was going to be next to naked in front of a total stranger while they got up close and personal with the air brush.

“It will be fine, Lou!” Caroline coaxed her. “Abby and I are doing it, I’ve done it a bazillion times before. It’s no biggie, I swear.”

“I assure you, Miss Lou...” Inga stood and looked at Lou very seriously, her thick accent and broken English adding levity to the situation whether she meant to or not. “I am professional. Before I found my calling, bringing peace and glow to all peoples, I was a nurse in Germany. So I tell you truth that I have seen all shapes and sizes. It is only the glow that matters.”

After such a sincere statement from Inga, considerable convincing from the girls and that glass of champagne that didn’t hurt the cause too much, Lou went for it. She had to admit the experience wasn’t nearly as humiliating as she had expected.

By three o’clock Lou was set in pin curls and was able to see the full bloom of the airbrushing. She was really glad she had done it. Her skin was not only soft and luminous but it did indeed look like she had spent a few days basking in the sun. When she looked at her mother and the twins, as she had taken to calling Caroline and Abby half way through the day, they too looked like they had been with her on her imaginary tropical excursion. They were all in the middle of hairstyle development when their make-up artists started on them. Caroline’s platinum locks were rolled up in curlers that were as big as coffee cans. Abby’s hair looked like it had been attacked by a box of straws and her mother looked like she had stuck her finger in a light socket. She explained to Lou that she was in mid-tease, whatever that was. Lou had been talked into highlights and a trim, especially the bangs, which she was all too happy to have cut. The girls had spent a long time discussing the appropriate style for her and had gone so far as to describe her dress to both the stylist and the makeup artist. Caroline had even showed them a picture she had taken with her cell phone. Lou simply could not understand why color coordination on her hair was so damn important, but she figured they knew far better than her.

“The boys should be finishing up with their manicures right about now.” Abby informed her as she sat in the chair next to her while the straws in her hair were carefully removed. “I left strict orders for the manicurist to beat them if necessary to make them submit.” She smiled sweetly at the genius of her plan.

Lou snorted and the stylist that was taking out the pins in her hair growled at her to hold still. “Somehow I cannot see Niko submitting to a manicure.” Lou ignored the woman at her head but tried to stay still anyway.

“Oh I’m not worried about Niko, he gets a manicure at least once a month. It’s Frank and Max that are going to moan and groan over it.” Abby rolled her eyes with annoyance.

Caroline chimed in from her seat on the other side of Abby. “I would have thought Max was a manicure guy.”

“No no, Max is a man’s man, I am sure. Dressing impeccably of course but being fussy about his hands? I can’t see that.” Lou’s mom tossed in her thoughts.

“And you would be right!” Abby grinned at Shevaun. “I force mani-pedies on those guys once a month. I cannot stand snaggle toes or grungy hands on a man. I simply will not have it if I have to be around them all the time.”

“And we thank you for it!” Caroline tipped her champagne glass toward Abby. “Nothing worse than holding hands with a guy who has cheese grater hands.”

They all laughed at Caroline’s analogy for a rough handed man but were promptly scolded by their respective stylists for bobbing around in their chairs. Forty-five minutes later they were allowed to turn around to look at one another and more importantly to look at the finished product of themselves.

“Lou...” Caroline gasped as her friend turned to face them. “You look amazing!”

“Wow! You are just a knockout!” Abby concurred.

“Oh stop you guys!” Lou got up out of her seat to go take a look at herself in the mirror.

“They are not kidding sugar pie, you look so beautiful, I may cry!” Shevaun’s eyes welled up but the make-up artist snapped at her not to ruin her work.

Lou walked over to the mirror and took a look at herself. Her dark auburn hair had been lit up subtly with soft copper highlights in all the right places. They had done pin curls on her which had made her nervous but the finished product was soft tousled waves like the leading ladies from the 1920’s. Like her all time favorite, Greta Garbo. Her make-up was soft, not overdone at all, but definitely glamorous. She couldn’t help but smile at herself. She turned from the mirror and looked at her stylist and make-up artist who were holding their breath waiting for her to say something.

“You two are geniuses!” I love it!” She told them.

The stylist and artist bounced up and down and hugged each other while Lou realized how selfish she had been not looking at her salon-mates. Caroline looked stunning as ever with a her shimmery platinum locks swept into a sophisticated up-do. Her make-up was fresh and perfect for her. Abby’s flaming tresses were a mass of cascading ringlets that were pulled up on each side and fastened by combs that were encrusted with jewels. Her eyes were smokey and alluring with a hint of forest green on the lids. Lou could only imagine all the socks that would be knocked off when Abby walked into the room tonight. It was her mother though that took her breath away when she looked at her. The strawberry blond was swept away from her face in graceful glossy loops. Her lips were polished with the perfect shade of red lipstick and her eyes were done in an understated sultry kohl. She was simply gorgeous.

“Okay so we must swear not to cry and screw up all their hard work!” Shevaun ordered.

“Shit!” Abby squeaked when she looked at the clock. “It’s four-fifteen! We need to hurry!”

The stylists all shrieked as if the world were coming to an end and started gathering little bottles and stuffing them into plastic bags. The make-up artists did something similar, gathering the lipsticks and glosses, mascaras and little compacts and put them into silky little black pouches. The four women tore off their protective smocks and clamored for shoes, jackets and purses. As they filed out the door, each two-man team that had worked on each of the women presented their bags of gifts to them and wished them a wonderful time at the ball. If the day was any indicator of the evening to follow, Lou knew it was going to be a blast.

It had finally
quieted down in Max’s suite after all the bitching and moaning the men had done over Abby arranging a proper barber and manicurist to come to them. Once sufficiently buffed and shorn, the men left to their respective quarters to finish getting ready. It was half past six and the quiet wasn’t really a good thing for Max. The chaos that accompanied having his top people around tended to keep him grounded. Focused on one matter or another that needed to be handled. He was excellent at juggling the chaos that accompanied governing, it was much like playing godfather to everyone. When it came to tending to himself and acknowledging anything of his own on a personal level, he lacked considerably. In his mind it was about his duty to others first and foremost, until very recently that is, and whether he liked it or not.

After a long hot shower he pulled on his robe and meandered about his room. He couldn’t remember the last time he cared about his appearance for an event, and even now he felt silly for being concerned. He did love his clothing, his suits and shoes especially. They were his secret weakness from long long ago when he was lucky for any scrap to cover himself with. When he was able to afford his first pair of sandals, he swore he would never ever go unshod again. So he had to admit he had another weakness, his secret pedicures with Niko once a month. That too was something he did because of his early years, before his turning. The first fifteen years of his life had been barefoot and barely a day had gone by that his feet were not bloody. Surely his indulgence was justified. He wandered into his bathroom and stared in the mirror at himself, long and hard. No matter how many centuries passed, he would always see the slave boy he once was. He wasn’t certain why women had found him attractive over the years. Truth be told, he hadn’t cared lately, and certainly not about just any women, only Lou. His naturally tanned skin was courtesy of his Greco-Roman heritage and he had to admit that the proper shave had been a wise idea on Abby’s part. He honestly felt his features were average. Not a weak jaw, he would concede that and perhaps a relatively straight nose despite it having been broken more times than he could remember. All in all he saw nothing special when he looked at himself. He was a big man, but that didn’t count for much, nothing to make a woman like Lou weak-kneed by a long shot. Max didn’t see his chiseled features the way Lou did, or the eyes of warm honey. He didn’t see the symmetry the way she did, he just saw plain brown hair, light brown eyes and two arms and legs of the slave boy grown into a man.