Page 49 of My Totally Unfair Deal

ELIZA

The woman staring back at me in the mirror can’t be me.

She has the same emerald eyes and freckles, but her red hair is glossier and pulled into a curly updo. The cream-colored dress hugs her cleavage and waist, and lace falls from her hips in waves.

The sparkling silver Louboutins look like they were custom-made for her feet, and she looks like she knows how to walk in them.

“As of today, based on this miraculous transformation, I am hereby changing my name to Frederick the Christ!” Frederick lifts his hand. “Someone praise me.”

“You’re amazing, Frederick!”

“Wonderful, wonderful!”

“There is no one in this city like you.”

His minions nod.

“No one in this city?” Frederick adjusts one of my bobby pins. “Or no one on this earth?”

“No one on this earth,” they say in unison.

If he weren’t so obnoxious, I’d honestly agree with them.

“Walk around the room, Miss Unfortunate.” He claps his hands. “Allow me to admire my work and see if I need to make adjustments.”

I let his comment slide and walk toward the kitchen and back. He motions for me to do it again while he whispers notes.

As I’m posing near the window, the front door opens and Harrison steps inside.

He stops dead in his tracks, staring at me for what feels like forever.

“What do you think, Mr. Jones?”

Harrison doesn’t answer. He just stares at me.

His lips are parting as he slowly takes in every inch of my body, and when he reaches my eyes, he mouths, “You’re fucking stunning.”

“Yes, I’m thinking the same thing.” Frederick nods. “I didn’t charge you enough, so I’ll be increasing the price. Follow me to the closet, ladies. Let’s make a few changes to her wardrobe.”

They rush toward my bedroom, and Harrison walks toward me.

“So?” I ask. “You think I look like a woman someone would love to get to know?”

He doesn’t answer, and my cheeks heat as he trails his thumb along the edge of the bodice.

“Do you think Jackson will be impressed?”

“For an entirely different reason.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think he’ll like it a lot.” He avoids my question. “What doyouthink?”

“I wish my mom could see it,” I admit. “I think she’d be impressed that I managed to get all the frizz out of my hair.”

“Okay, out, Mr. Jones!” Frederick returns to the room, armed with white bags. “I’ve decided that we need to tone down theChanel and incorporate some more Yves Saint Laurent and Tom Ford.”

“It sounds like you’re finding ways to get paid more.”

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