8. Chapter 8 #2
“Here we go.” Rayne held up a… yup, that was a fancy, expensive prom dress. Okay . So, a grown woman could definitely wear a Barney’s gown to the red carpet, a wedding, or, as Renaldo said, a gala. On a date? “Try it on.”
It took both her and Rayne to get it on.
I look pretty nice. After Renaldo pulled her hair back into a bun, Alicia’s eyes widened.
Was that what she looked like when dressed so fancily?
Her mother would roll over in bed to see it.
She’s always saying I need to dress up nicer.
Unfortunately, hostess work didn’t allow for many gowns.
She was lucky to work at a place that let her wear nice pants or, gasp, a decent skirt.
“It looks great up top,” Renaldo said. “But that skirt is not going to win us any favors with Danica. If we sent you to her dressed like that, she’d think we were mad. Or nuns. Not the fun kind, either.”
Rayne nodded. “That’s why we’re cutting the skirt. The focus point should be her chest.”
“My… chest?” Alicia looked down. A large keyhole expanded from the bottom of her cleavage to the top of her navel. It didn’t show off much, but she did look respectable for once. Quite the feat since she couldn’t wear a padded bra to play up what she did have.
“You have a great chest for your physique,” Rayne said with a wave of her hand. “We should show it off. None of the other dresses does you any justice like this.”
“It’s either that or show off your ass.” Renaldo tilted his head. “And, honey…”
Alicia clapped her hands on her ass, as if that would make it bigger!
All of this was good enough for Danica to help herself to.
Then again, with the woman paying for this expensive dress, she might as well humor the squad sent after Alicia.
“Who am I to say no at this point? Just don’t show off my nipples. ”
Rayne and Renaldo exchanged looks. What? Was there something on her face?
A seamstress was brought in after the final decision. After taking fifteen minutes’ worth of measurements, Alicia was allowed to step out of the dress and into her work clothes. No one had given her enough time to change out of her Blue Bird uniform.
“Yikes,” Renaldo muttered. “Play your cards right, sweetie, and you’ll never have to wear something as garishly made as that again.”
Alicia was almost afraid to ask, but as she pulled the shirt over her head, she inquired, “Why’s that?”
He grinned at the sounds of Rayne and the seamstress bickering over a centimeter. “Danica Moreau is one of the biggest paydays in town. People have been fighting amongst themselves at the country club to even get a look at her, let alone marry her.”
Alicia left her buttons undone. “What are you talking about? She and I aren’t…”
Renaldo stepped closer, voice dropping. “Danica Moreau has only publicly dated a handful of women since coming back from Princeton. Now, many would say that means she’s dating behind closed doors.
This is true. A woman like that? She gets around, but she doesn’t date unless it’s for publicity or if she’s courting a potential Mrs .
Moreau. Her family is old-fashioned like that. ”
Alicia frowned. “I still don’t follow. I’ve only met her a couple of times. She asked me out on a date. So what?”
“So. What?” Renaldo was loving this way too much. “So, for her to formally ask you out on a date and go this way with you… that means you’re pretty special, Alicia.”
“I’m not…”
“Word to the wise. If a woman of that caliber decides you’re special for whatever reason, then you bet your ass that you’re a special little snowflake. Own up to it. Make hay while the sun shines. All that jazz. Clichés, clichés…”
Alicia finally buttoned up her shirt. “Still…”
“Do you want to keep having to wear shirts like this? Think about it, Alicia. One of the few eligible bachelorettes of comic proportions left wants to date you. It may not last very long… or it may last for as long as you want it to.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“There’s a reason that woman is single.”
“Do tell?”
Renaldo looked around before answering. “She’s a perfectionist. She also works nonstop and outsources her bowel movements because she doesn’t have time to waste in the bathroom like the rest of us plebes. Get my feeling?”
Alicia nodded. “I definitely got that impression.” The child inside of her wondered how one outsourced bowel movements. Also, how much did it cost? She might want to look into it.
“She’s dated both high-profile women and those nobody has ever heard of, like you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Renaldo shrugged in his lavender suit. “It’s a harsh truth.
You date her long enough, though, and people will soon know who you are, whether you like it or not.
What I’m trying to tell you is that you’ve got a big opportunity to make some serious money, girl.
The Moreaus aren’t just rich. They’re so stinking rich that even Forbes doesn’t bother to tally up their goods anymore.
Too much work, you know? Besides, they pay listers to keep their family out of the public eye.
Money is such a non-object that you could probably get her to pay off some of your bills.
Not that I’m saying you should demand such a thing right away. Work into it.”
Alicia snorted. “You sound like you have a lot of experience in this.”
“Honey, I didn’t make it this far without learning a thing or two about rich-ass women. Unfortunately, most of them aren’t into me.” He winked. Alicia giggled.
“Thanks. Think I’ll see where it goes first.”
Rayne rejoined them after the seamstress left with a huff. “First place you need to go,” Renaldo said loudly, holding up Alicia’s ponytail. “Is Pauline’s. We don’t have any time to waste. It’s time to get you a new hairdo. Now.”
Pauline the hairstylist spent an inordinate amount of time staring at Alicia’s reflection and a picture of her in the dress the other stylists had picked out for her. Rayne kept throwing around the words “bun” and “braid,” but every other phrase made the redhead flinch.
“This kind of face needs a symmetrical haircut, but not that symmetrical.” Her accent was so thick that Alicia couldn’t place it.
“Leave me. I need to consult with my art.” As soon as Rayne was gone, Pauline continued to mumble, “Had to get her out of here before she summoned Laryette.” Then, louder, “Now, how about we chop off these lovely locks of yours?”
“No!” Alicia knew she shouldn’t have shouted with scissors so close to her head, but what else could she do? “I mean… please don’t. Trim it if you want, but don’t chop it.”
Melodrama was the theme of the day. Pauline blew out a torrent of hot air through her mouth and nostrils before putting down the shears. “Fine, but don’t blame me if your look falls flat because you’re obsessed with your own hair color.”
Alicia was tired of these people making assumptions about her. “Next, you’ll be telling me that you want to dye my hair.”
“What? No way. You’ve got the natural blond tone we’re always trying to achieve for our dark-haired clients.
” Pauline ruffled the top of Alicia’s head for emphasis.
“It’s noticeably blond, but not outrageously so.
We call this Conservative Blond . All the heiresses applying to law school crow for this color.
Yet they want us to do it in a way that won’t fry their hair?
Technology hasn’t caught up to us that well yet.
Although…” She carefully parted Alicia’s hair, scoping out both her roots and the way her hair grew gradually lighter the longer it fell.
“If you wanted to dye it one day, we could do a really soft brown. Not quite chestnut, but almost there. Your skin tone is perfect for it.”
Alicia considered it for one hot second. “We, huh?”
“You keep that Danica Moreau wrapped around your pretty finger and I’ll be happy to keep doing your hair, sweetheart.” Pauline picked up a tiny pair of scissors. “Now, about these bangs and disgusting split ends…”
There wasn’t much time for conversation when Pauline was pulling her hair – and not in the sexy way – clipping dangerously close to her ear, and trying every updo under the sun.
Rayne came in and out of the hair studio, asking “How much longer?” and whether Pauline had any more of that sparkling champagne left. Alicia was never offered any.
All these people think I should milk the woman dry .
The thought had occurred to her more than once, but only as an outrageous fantasy.
Alicia was not into the idea of using someone for their money.
She wouldn’t want to be used for her body, would she?
Yet that’s probably what I’m signing up for .
Classic Mommy-baby relationship . Except that Danica wasn’t that much older than her.
A whole two years! When she and Candice researched as much as they could on the internet, that was the most shocking thing.
The woman was born in 1995. Alicia’s parents may not have met yet, but they were already heading on that path by ’95.
Yet Danica Moreau felt so much older. Her older gravitas.
That wizened aura. The woman was more forty than she was thirty.
Her mom looked a lot older, too. Alicia shivered, conjuring the wrath of Pauline since she had almost sliced someone’s ear off.
Memories of Russell Moreau and that one strange moment they shared stuck with poor Alicia.
She hoped she wouldn’t be seeing much more of the family while she became a blip in his daughter’s dating life.
Pauline finished her trimming and styling.
In the end, she left Alicia with an updo that was more beehive than twist…
and a video demonstration so she could recreate the look the next day.
Yeah, right. Alicia couldn’t wait to get the thing off her head already.
She knew that bees were endangered, but did she have to be the one to cart them around in her hair?
Renaldo must have had the same thought as she collected her bags and headed for the taxi the three of them shared. “Careful, don’t get stung.” He opened the door to the cab and allowed her to hop in first. Rayne was already inside.
Sad thing? Alicia was counting on getting stung. If she wasn’t after Danica for her money, then she had to be after her for something. What did Alicia know? She was still na?ve in the world of sex.