Page 17 of RAKEish

“On my thirteenth birthday, Mother said I should focus on personality since I inherited my looks from my father,” Luxury explained.

Ziggy gasped. “Rude!”

This is not spill-your-guts story hour. “She became bitter after he left her for a younger woman,” Luxury added, her voice softening with understanding. “Seeing me reminds her of him and the pain he caused. Studying for my doctorate in psychology, I came to understand how deep-seated hurt can lead someone to say cruel things, even to their own daughter. It’s a way of coping, however misguided.” The words flowed out of her as if he were the psychologist and she the patient. Did he have that effect on everyone?

Ziggy paused for a moment, his brush in mid-air. “It’s a shame your mother’s pain blinded her to your beauty.” He spoke in a calm tone, not the exclamation-point one she’d grown accustomed to. For a moment, he continued working in silence. “Pucker your lips.”

She did, and he swiped lipstick on them.

“There.” He stepped back and eyed her. “Your cheekbones and eyes are your best features.”

“But only if I emphasize them with makeup?” she asked.

Ziggy leaned in slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his purple lips. “Darling, makeup doesn’t create beauty—it celebrates it.”

“Oh.” She’d never thought about it in that light.

“Your features are already there, stunning and real. Makeup is just the spotlight that helps others to see what’s been there all along.”

She hesitated. “But I want them to notice me without the makeup so that I know they’ve fallen for me, not my looks.”

Ziggy paused. “Sweetheart, someone falling for you will always be about more than makeup or looks! It’s about the sparkle in your eyes, the passion in your words, and the essence of who you are. Makeup or not, you are simply enhancing the beauty that’s inherently yours.”

If that was true, why had Father left Mother for someone younger and prettier? Intellectually, she knew the answer.

Father’s actions were more about his choices and less about Mother’s beauty or lack thereof. People leave for complex reasons, often reflecting their own issues or desires. It’s rarely as simple as just chasing after a young, more beautiful face. True connections are built on deeper grounds than just physical appearance.

She’d spoken these words often during her private sessions, but her heart refused to buy in to the intellect.

“Isabella, she’s all yours,” Ziggy said loudly, abruptly ending therapy time without the customary five-minute warning, leaving Lux slightly discombobulated.

Isabella grabbed two dresses off a rack and rushed over to them. “Which do you like best?”

The gowns were exquisite. One blue. One black. “Are they both your designs?” Lux asked. “They’re so lovely.”

Isabella nodded. “I’ve been working on a line for my own show. You are going to showcase them for me instead. The publicity will be fabulous. Pick one and try it on.”

Luxury chose the sleek midnight blue dress. Slipping into it, she felt how the fabric hugged her curves in all the right places. She longed for a mirror.

Scratch that. She didn’t want a mirror. Seeing herself in a mirror, looking more fabulous than ever—Lux imagined it would be like the first hit of heroin. Lux did not want to become a beauty junkie, like Mother. A woman always in search of the next thing to camouflage reality.

Hell, if just wearing this dress made Lux feel bolder, she could only imagine the effect seeing herself in a mirror would have on her psyche.

Then again, she was a grown-ass woman with a sensible head on her shoulders. For the next seven days, she could allow herself to shine without worry of getting sucked into a lifestyle she wasn’t interested in pursuing long term. Everything that was happening to her today was the means to an end. An end that would allow her to go back to her life as a college professor. With that thought firmly in place, she stepped out from behind the curtain.

“You are my new most favorite model ever,” Isabella said, her voice filled with triumph. “I have never seen anything I’ve designed look more fabulous on a body than that dress does on yours.”

Luxury blushed.

“With the way it hugs your curves and your expression, like you’re in a suit of armor, I’m near tears. Scott won’t know what hit him when he sees you tonight.”

With every word Isabella gushed, Lux grew more confident in her mission. She could allow a rake to school her in the finer points of flirting. She was more than up for the challenge. She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Others walked over to admire the new Luxury Stone, and one of them started a slow clap which grew into an enthusiastic round of applause.

“Thanks to all of you,” she said when the clapping died. “I know I’m the enemy here in camp Naked Runway, and you’re all rooting for Scott. Even so, I appreciate your taking the time out of your day to give me a makeover.”

“All we ask in return,” Ziggy said, “is that you promise to tell us if, and when, he comes to you with his ravaged penis asking for a fix!”

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