Sleeping with Beauty (16 page)

Chapter
11
                                                                                                                                       

L
ucy finished putting the protective coating of lotion on her nails and palms, as instructed. “God, it’s freezing in here,” she muttered, adjusting the blue paper shower cap so the elastic band was right on her hairline, protecting her newly highlighted locks. She still wasn’t used to herself with lighter hair. “Ve vill make you honey blonde,” she said, mimicking her stylist’s, Roget’s, French accent. There was no time to think about that now.

Shivering and naked again, she resolutely turned toward the huge blue-and-silver, space-age-looking booth. Until twenty minutes ago, she’d never even heard of spray-on tans. It made the sci-fi-movie-extra head of foil she’d sported earlier seem low-tech by comparison. “I cannot believe I’m doing this.” But what else was new? She couldn’t believe half the things she’d done in the past twelve days.

The new hairstyle was simply the latest in a long list of new experiences. She’d come to love the eclectic wardrobe Vivian had put together for her during their shopping spree the week before. She’d almost completely gotten over her fear of heels; even her bruises had pretty much faded. And she had to admit that after Vivian had all but dragged her back to Sadistic Sue to finish the wax job on her legs, she did feel rather smooth and soft.

Vivian had even helped her pick out her “signature scent.” Smell being the most powerful of the senses, Vivian had assured Lucy that years after a woman left her lover, every time he got a whiff of her perfume, he would long for her again. Lucy wasn’t sure about that, but there was an undeniable thrill at the idea of even having discarded lovers.

She still didn’t feel exactly bulletproof—she was still afraid she might do someone bodily harm with the acrylic nails she now sported—but she did feel like she might actually turn a man’s head for reasons other than that she’d just taken out the sunglasses display at the mall by inadvertently tripping over the metal base.

“Ms. Harper?”

Lucy jumped and instinctively covered her breasts. Then she realized the voice was coming from the little intercom. “Y-yes?”

“Are you ready?”

Still clutching her breasts, she looked at the booth. “I guess,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Just step inside and close the door. When you’re ready, press the blue button. Then you have five seconds to get in your stance. Don’t forget to curve your hands like Robin showed you. Make sure you keep your eyes and mouth closed. It’s a little noisy, so don’t let that startle you. The spray will move up and down for ten seconds, then it will stop. You’ll have five seconds to turn around before the second spray. Any questions?”

“No, I think I have it. Thanks.” Gingerly she stepped into the booth and clicked the door shut behind her. “Okay,” she murmured, “press button, curve hands, close eyes and mouth. Hold breath for ten seconds.”

She pressed the button, looked down to align her feet on the helpful footprint-patterned mat, then shut her eyes and got into position. Her mind wandered a little.
Hard to believe that twenty seconds in here will give me a golden glowing tan. Hasn’t it been five seconds? Better take a deep breath just in case.

The instant she opened her mouth, something that sounded like a 747 jet engine rumbled abruptly to life. She jumped, squealed—and opened her eyes in surprise. “A little loud, my as—” The nozzles cut on in that instant, spewing spray from every angle, stinging her eyes, and worse, filling her mouth.

Gagging and spitting, she immediately abandoned her stance and covered her eyes as the nozzles began moving up and down. Panic rose inside her as her heart immediately began pounding as loudly as the thundering motors operating the nozzles. She couldn’t get her breathing under control, much less in sync with the up-and-down motion of the spray. Hell, she couldn’t get her breath at all. She was hyperventilating.
Shit, shit, shit!

Apparently she must have said that last part out loud, because in the next instant when the motors cut off, she heard pounding on the door to the small tanning chamber. Okay, so maybe she might have screamed. A little.

“Ms. Harper! Ms. Harper! Are you all right?”

Mortified, she immediately turned and began fumbling for the door handle, with every intention of escaping. So what if her boobs were tan and her ass was still white? Who was going to know? Her eyes stinging from the spray still dripping into them, she couldn’t find the damn handle. Heart still pounding, she felt the panic rise again and was going to call out for assistance—it wasn’t like she could be less embarrassed at this point—but just then the motors cut back on for the second round of spraying.

Trapped and whimpering, she turned her back and cowered, abandoning any pretense of her instructed stance. She remained in a huddled position as she got blasted all over again, her heart immediately leaping right back into overdrive.
Please be over, please be over.
She didn’t even want to think about what this was going to look like. Talk about your uneven coverage!

And just as suddenly it was over, and the room fell silent.

“Ms. Harper!”

“I—” She stopped, gagged, spat out brown spray. “Fine,” she said raggedly. She fumbled around the now slippery booth with her hands until she found the knob and all but fell to the floor of the small room in a grateful heap when she was finally free. “Fine,” she managed again, staggering to a stand, right before she stuffed the closest towel into her mouth and began scrubbing her tongue.

“Don’t forget, rub yourself dry from the feet up,” Robin called out, “or you’ll streak.”

“Shit,” she swore, the word muffled by the towel. She tugged it out, realized it was the only one she had, and immediately began vigorously scrubbing her legs and feet. She was probably the only one who’d ever screwed up a twenty-second fake tanning session.

When she finally got her robe back on and staggered through the door, no less than three Glass Slipper employees were huddled there, concerned looks wreathing their perfectly made-up faces.

“Are you all right, then?” Robin asked, her British accent making her sound even more sweet and sincere.

Lucy managed a nod and tried for a brave smile. “Just took me a bit off guard. How long before the color starts to come out?”

“Two to four hours.”

Super,
Lucy thought, barely managing to keep the fake smile on her face. Only four hours before the zebra-size streaks came to life.

“Vivian is waiting for you down the hall,” Robin informed her with an encouraging look. “Maryann here will take you to her.” Her smile brightened. “You’re to have your makeup done next. Then a hairstyling lesson.”

Hair and makeup, the two things Lucy had really wanted most. And now all she could think about was whether there was enough foundation to even out the results of her tanning disaster.

Vivian greeted her with a breezy smile. “So, darling. Ready for your next step?”

Apparently, word of her tanning-booth meltdown hadn’t traveled to Vivian. Well, at least there was one thing in her favor. She pulled her robe more tightly around her. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.
Just as long as there aren’t any spray nozzles and jet engines involved.
Her heart still hadn’t fully recovered.

Vivian steered her into another room that was all decked out with mirrors and a table filled with more makeup than all the department-store counters in Hecht’s combined. Glancing at the various pots, compacts, trays, and bottles, she didn’t even know what half the stuff was for.

Something of her anxiety must have shown on her face, because Vivian patted her arm. “Carol here is a magician with nothing more than mascara and a pair of tweezers. You’ll see. But first, Margo will show you how to manage your new cut.”

Maybe it was because Vivian sounded so excited about everything, or because she’d been so patient and kind. Or maybe it was because Lucy was still traumatized by the tanning booth. Probably a little bit of all three, but suddenly Lucy’s eyes filled with unexpected tears.

Vivian
tsked
and immediately pulled a tissue from somewhere inside her formfitting red blazer and began dabbing at Lucy’s face. “Now, now, darling. The hardest part is over.” She gave Lucy an encouraging smile. “This is the fun girly stuff you’ve been waiting for.”

“It’s just—” Lucy stopped. She was so very grateful for everything Vivian had done for her. So she had no idea how to put into words the absolute terror that had just struck her as she realized she was about to leave here, and she wasn’t remotely ready to attempt doing any of this on her own, without sounding horribly ungrateful.

Some of what she was feeling must have shown on her face, as Vivian’s expression softened. “Darling, we’re not going to abandon you, you know. In fact, I will be quite hurt if I’m not kept in the loop. I expect a full report on how things turn out.” Vivian smiled with her typical confidence and assurance.

In that moment Lucy would have killed for even a shred of that élan to come naturally to her.

“Practice doesn’t always make perfect,” Vivian told her. “But it will put you at ease. You’ll have plenty of time for more practice once you leave.” Before she could say anything else, Vivian shooed her off into Margo’s capable hands.

T
hree hours and a few singe marks later, Margo stepped back and smiled. “I think you’re finally getting the hang of it.”

Lucy smiled weakly and gladly put the flatiron down. “I guess there isn’t a wash-and-wear hairstyle that would look this nice, huh?”

Margo just grinned. “The price we pay for beauty.”

Lucy looked back in the mirror. The blonde streaks in her hair were so wispy thin they weren’t all that noticeable, but the overall effect had turned her hair the warm shade of honey. That, along with her new fake tan—which so far appeared to be amazingly streak-free—made her eyes look brighter. They were still hazel, but at least they didn’t look as muddy.

Overall, the new hair color had been a shock, but once they’d started cutting, the color had been the least of her concerns. She now sported a fringe of wispy bangs, while the rest barely brushed her shoulders. She told them that she’d only kept it long because the heavier it was, the less lumpy it tended to look. Plus it was easier for her to put in a bun during class. All that bending over little desks, when her hair swung in her face, was a pain.

Margo had laughed off her protestations and told her she’d teach her how to smooth her hair. Smooth, hell. Flatten it with a smoking iron was what she meant.

But looking in the mirror now at her wispy bangs, tanned face, and poker-straight honey-blonde hair . . . well, hell, if she didn’t know the person in the mirror was her, she might actually find her downright attractive. She’d been so caught up in learning how to use the flatiron without taking off a patch of her face, she hadn’t really taken any time to look at the overall picture.

Margo had stepped out to see if Carol was ready for her, prompting Lucy to lean forward, closer to the mirror, a smile flirting around her lips.

“So . . .” she said, allowing the smile that suddenly bubbled up inside her to surface as she leaned in to the mirror, “how you doin’?” Her Joey Tribbiani imitation needed some work, but she found herself laughing in almost giddy delight, nonetheless.

Vivian chose that moment to stride in. “Ah! Look at you, darling. As with Catherine Deneuve, another timeless beauty is born.”

Lucy turned, smiling a bit sheepishly at being caught mugging at her own reflection.

“Well, darling, what do you think?”

Lucy opened her mouth, shut it again, then shrugged as she grinned helplessly. “Thank you,” she finally managed, through a throat suddenly tight with emotion.

“Oh, honey,” Vivian responded, immediately striding to her with arms outstretched. She drew Lucy from her styling chair and pulled her into an embrace, which was only slightly awkward with their foot-plus difference in height.

Both of them sniffling, she then held Lucy at arm’s length. “Are you beginning to feel the power of your own magic, darling? Sleeping Beauty has been awakened.”