Page 32 of Peasants and Kings
If I wanted answers, I’d talk to Tiffany, and even she had to talk around some issues.
After I ate my salad, Jase led me to the spa area. She put me in a room with a table covered in a sheet.
“Thanks again for the amazing haircut,” I said when her hand was on the doorknob.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled and closed the door.
An hour later, freshly waxed and groomed, the esthetician showed me to the nail station for a pedicure.
Tiffany and another woman were sitting next to each other, talking in hushed tones. When Tiffany saw me, she gasped. “Oh my God!”
“What?” I asked in trepidation.
“Your hair! It looks amazing!”
I relaxed and smiled. “Thank you. Jase did a good job, didn’t she?”
“Such a good job!” Tiffany’s companion said. “I’m Julia.”
“Hi, I’m…Eden,” I said, going toward her with my hand out.
Julia shook my hand and then pointed to the chair next to her. “Sit here.”
“Okay, thanks.” I climbed into the chair and rolled up my jeans. Tiffany and Julia were both dressed casually in floral print dresses, their toes soaking in tubs of water and essential oils.
I glanced at Julia’s yellow gold key and smiled awkwardly before shooting Tiffany a pleading look for help.
“So, Eden is working her first event ever at The Mansion tomorrow night,” Tiffany said, effortlessly turning attention away from my gawkiness.
“Ah,” Julia said with a secretive grin. “Parties at The Mansion are always a good time.”
Tiffany laughed like they shared a secret I wasn’t privy to.
“What can I expect?” I asked. “I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be,” Julia said. “But remember, what happens at The Mansion stays at The Mansion.”
“That’s reassuring,” Tiffany muttered, looking around. Satisfied that we were still alone for the time being, Tiffany continued, “You should just wait and see what goes on. It’s really hard to explain. But don’t be afraid. You have to remember you’re a Rex girl now. You’re safe, always.”
“We’ve all walked into it completely blind.” Julia winked and then leaned her head back against the massage chair.
Three technicians appeared, and we all fell into silence. Tiffany and Julia were finished before I was, and they left, leaving me to sit and wonder about what I could expect.
The wardrobe room on The Fifteenth Floor rivaled a magazine stylist’s closet. There were rows and rows of high-end designer clothing on racks and heels to match every outfit imaginable. It was like the hotel’s own personal department store.
“I think silver,” Petra said, holding a clipboard in her hand.
“Silver is perfect for her coloring. Plus, it’s her first appearance and it will help her make a splash,” Genevieve said.
“What do you think? Audrey or Liz?”
Genevieve looked me up and down. “Definitely Liz.”
“Liz?” I piped up, feeling like a mannequin in a store window.
“Elizabeth Taylor,” Genevieve explained. “All of our gowns are designed after the Golden Age of Hollywood stars, but with our own Rex flare.”
“Oh. I see,” I said with a nod.
