Page 42 of King of Lies
When my hair is all rolled up on top of my head, the stylist goes to work on my face, taking my look from passably pretty to showstopper. I didn’t know makeup could completely transform me like this. I look like …my mom. Or at least what I remember of her.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, a worried look marring her face.
“Nothing,” I answer instantly and watch as her expression clears. “I didn’t know I could look like this. Who knew makeup could make you shape shift?”
The ladies laugh.
“You do a good job with the basics,” she says. “But I could teach you so much more.”
“Yes, please,” I reply. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
I feel a need to explain so she doesn’t think I’m the weirdest person ever. “I was raised by uncles,” I tell her. “My mom died when I was little. My dad too, so there was no woman to teach me how to shapeshift.”
“Oh honey …”
“It’s okay,” I say quickly. Getting it all out as fast as I can. “They did a great job and I’m thankful for them. But girl stuff is hard, you know?”
“I do,” she says. “Let’s get these rollers out and get you dressed for your official engagement photos.”
“Sure,” I agree and sit back in my chair, but not before I notice the aide discretely dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
She unrolls my hair and brushes it out to fall in bouncy, dark waves that frame my heart shaped face and call attention to the soft gold and dark brown shadows that she’s used to make my brown eyes pop.
“Now the dress,” the stylist says as she holds out a hand to help me up. “For the photos we want soft and romantic, approachable.”
“Okay … I like that.”
“Here you go,” she says as she hands me a hanger with a light blue chiffon wrap dress hanging on it. It has tiny little sprays of the softest white flowers embroidered on it, making it look very bridal in an understated kind of a way. “Your undergarments are on the bed.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat as I realize she’s also picked my underwear like a toddler.
I carry the dress into the bedroom and shut the door behind me. Sure enough, a white lace bra and matching panties are laying on the bed with a pair and a spare of nude stockings. I guess she prepares for anything and that’s something I can appreciate.
I carefully pull on the undergarments, worried that they’ll tear in my clumsy hands. I’ve never worn anything so obviously delicate or expensive before and it makes me nervous. What would they think of me if I accidentally ripped my panties in half trying to pull them up like a maniac?
I pull the dress off the hanger and wrap it around my body, securing it with the tiny hidden buttons inside. I wrap the matching sash belt around my waist and tie it before heading back out to meet the team of fashion magicians.
“Well?” I ask. “Will I pass muster?”
“Oh yes,” the aide answers.
“Aye,” the two stylists agree.
“Here,” the one with the clothes says, handing me a pair of tan suede Louboutins. “You need shoes.”
I slide them on my feet and grimace. “I may never get used to these.”
“Well, I slid some special insoles in them; hopefully that will help,” she says. “But I’m of the thought that we do anything for Louboutins.”
“Sorry,” I laugh, testing out the shoes. “This does help though. Thanks.”
“Anytime. I have many secrets.”
“I’m fairly sure you guys are magicians,” I blurt out, making them all smile. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Well, we’re not quite done,” the palace aide says, handing me a velvet box. “It’s time to guild the lily.”
