Page 16 of RAKEish

“Frankie doesn’t do anything by half measures,” Isabella said.

Twenty-minutes later, Lux, wearing the softest robe she’d ever had touch her skin, she thought it might be real silk, stood in front of Isabella, arms outstretched as the woman took yet another measurement.

“That should just about do it.” Isabella took a step back right as a man sashayed up to them.

“I am Alberto,” he announced. “I will transform your hair.”

“Oh.” Lux touched her bun. “Frankie said nothing about my hair.”

“I am the most important part of the makeover,” Alberto declared loud enough that several stopped what they were doing and glanced their way. He stepped forward, undid her bun, and ran his hands through her hair. “Your color… Are you a natural blonde?”

“I am.” Mother had harassed her for years to dye her hair because it reminded her too much of Lux’s father. Lux had never caved.

“Fabulous!” Alberto boomed. “I won’t touch that. But the rest is screaming for a refresh.”

Rude. Lux gave Isabella a beseeching look. “Where is Scott? Shouldn’t he have some say in what you all do to me?”

Alberto harrumphed. “He has no interest in how the sausage is made. He’s only interested in the finished product.”

“Oh.” Of course. Typical male.

“Darling, you are in excellent hands.” Isabella handed Lux a mimosa. “I’d dare say, if Scott were here, he’d do nothing but get in the way with his low-cut cleavage ideas.”

Lux took a sip of the drink, eyeballing Isabella as she did so. “On that, we agree.”

For the next hour, Alberto washed, cut, and styled Lux’s hair. Upon completion, he’d declared it his best work ever. She could neither confirm nor deny his boast, because she’d not been allowed to watch as he worked.

According to Alberto, she would not be permitted to see any of the results until her transformation was complete. On the bright side, he liked to chat as he worked. She’d learned from him that the room they were in was normally alive with top advertising models, persuasive photographers, and eccentric editors, but today, it had been set aside for the sole purpose of her transformation. He’d ended his chat with the words, “All in the name of helping their ever-so-popular relationship guru maintain his crown…so to speak.” The way he said it made her wonder if there was bad blood between the two.

After meeting with Alberto, she was directed to a makeup station to wait for Ziggy, who had been whisked away earlier to handle a model crisis. In the interim, Lux observed Isabella’s crew commanding the room. Arranged behind four laden tables, the assistants had everything laid out; fabrics cascaded over one, while another bristled with scissors, patterns, and pins. The steady hum of a sewing machine came from the third, and the last table was equipped with an iron and steamer. Behind the tables, rows of garments dangled from rolling racks, all being tailored to accommodate Lux’s fuller figure.

The atmosphere in the room magnified the clamoring shenanigans of Lux’s brain. The biggest development of all being the excitement brimming inside of her. For her life, she couldn’t figure out why that was. Intellectually, she wanted nothing to do with any of it, but somewhere deep within—it appeared—lived a girl longing for at least one rendezvous with the trappings of beauty.

The realization had had her stomach in a knot of conflict all morning.

I’m not doing this for a man. I’m doing this to prove it won’t be enough. Sure, she would garner attention from men, but catching the eye of a player and winning his heart were two different things.

“Remember to breathe,” Isabella said as she stopped by and held a couple of color swatches up to Lux’s face, then scurried off toward the line of sewing machines.

“I’ve returned!” Ziggy’s enthusiastic voice pierced the bustling atmosphere as he came to a stop in front of her. “Darling, you’re a blank canvas begging for a masterpiece!” After picking up what appeared to be a painter’s palette, he grabbed a fluffy brush with a pink handle out of an overflowing vase and then tilted his chin as he studied her face.

“I truly would prefer if you kept the transformation subtle,” she said.

“Nonsense. Ziggy doesn’t do subtle.” As he spoke, his hands danced around her with a conductor’s finesse, as if eager to begin. “Ziggy unleashes the goddess within!”

Luxury’s stomach clenched, not just in anticipation, but also in resistance. This entire endeavor, while promising a newfound allure, sharply contradicted her belief that a man should fall for her genuine self, not an embellished version created by makeup and designer attire. Then again, it’s not like she had a lot of choice in the matter. Necessity had brought her here, and like it or not, she would momentarily embrace a world she had always disdained and handle the fallout when it was over.

“As long as Ziggy recalls I’m more of a minimalist goddess,” Lux said.

“Minimalist, maximalist, it’s all about the essence, honey!” Ziggy replied, leading her to a chair in front of a mirror surrounded by lights. “Trust me, you’re going to love this.”

As Ziggy started working his magic, dabbing and brushing with the expertise of an artist, Luxury found herself relaxing. Each stroke of the brush was surprisingly soothing, a gentle nudge toward a world she had always viewed from a distance.

“Beauty isn’t about hiding,” Ziggy said after a bit. “It’s about highlighting who you already are. And honey, you are fabulous!”

Luxury blushed. “That’s sweet of you to say, but I know I’m not beautiful.”

“Whoever told you that should be expelled from your life forever!” He wagged a finger as he spoke. “They obviously do not have your best interest at heart.”

---