CHAPTER 6
Lux breathed easier once Scott left the room. The man took up entirely too much space. Sure, she’d seen images of the infamous rake, had even seen him outside a club that one time, but up close and within cologne-sniffing distance, he was much more…everything. Way too handsome for his own good, and dear God, don’t even get her started on—
“You, of course, are the lovely muse Frankie promised me I could transform if I agreed to drop everything and come at once.” A person in RuPaul-worthy drag stepped forward and flopped their hand in front of Lux’s face.
“Umm.” Was the kissing of knuckles expected? Or had the trend gone from high-fives to limp-wrist-knuckles?
“I’m Ziggy—he, him.” He stepped forward, grasped her cheeks, and tilted her head up, left, and right. Then he let go and took a dramatic step back. “A blank canvas waiting for a masterpiece. I declare you perfect for my talents.”
“And what exactly are those?” she asked.
He framed his face with jazz hands. “Makeup.”
She’d been afraid he would say that. “You can do subtle…right?”
“Subtle is for the timid.” Ziggy tittered coquettishly.
“But—”
Frankie cleared her throat. “No subtle. Ziggy, Isabella, meet Dr. Luxury Stone.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Isabella responded. “You’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen on a woman. Like emeralds. Your name, Luxury Stone, is pure perfection.”
“Thank you.” Lux had always hated her name. Probably because Mother had given it to her as a not-so-subtle reminder to Father he’d promised her luxurious stones in return for Mother ruining her body and birthing him a child. A child, as it turned out, he’d ditched along with his wife several years later.
“Do not befriend this woman,” Frankie snapped. “She is the one who has made a mockery of Scott’s column.”
Isabella laughed. “Do you truly believe he will—”
Frankie held up her hand. “Enough of the chitchat. Dr. Stone and I have entered into an agreement that will save her from a lawsuit, one in which has Scott teaching her how to seduce a man with nothing more than body language and a turn of phrase. And after today’s extreme makeover, the two of you will continue to do her makeup and clothes for the remainder of their arrangement. At no time will she be allowed to be photographed with Scott looking like she does now. If she is, I will fire you, as well as the entire Glam team.”
Isabella winked at Lux. “Her bark is much worse than her bite.”
“You, come with me,” Ziggy said to Lux, before turning and flouncing out of the room in his hot pink Louboutin stilettos.
“You’ll have to excuse Ziggy,” Isabella said. She wore jeans and a white T-shirt, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. “He’s known for his dramatic exits. I’m looking forward to designing your dating wardrobe.”
“But of course you are. It’s your one true talent,” Frankie said dismissively. “Now, both of you, begone.”
Lux trailed Isabella through Naked Runway’s bustling corridors until they slowed to a stop outside a room that dazzled with a blend of glamour and practicality. Several people, already busily working inside, glanced her way and tossed her curious smiles.
“Hi,” she said, feeling quite shy. Out of all the faces staring her way, not a one of them was ordinary.
“Everyone, this is Luxury Stone. We’re to make her over. Frankie’s orders.” Isabella said. “Please make her feel welcome.”
A chorus of hellos echoed through the room.
“Lux, you can change behind that screen.” Isabella pointed toward a black and white divider. “This is for you to wear while you’re being transformed.” She handed her a lovely white robe. “Take everything off.”
“Everything?” Lux questioned.
Isabella nodded. “Frankie has ordered us to make over your entire wardrobe. All the way down to your bra and panties. I have a runner ready to go and purchase you new undergarments.”
“That seems a bit extreme,” Lux said.
“Frankie doesn’t do anything by half measures,” Isabella said.
Twenty-minutes later, Lux, wearing the softest robe she’d ever had touch her skin, she thought it might be real silk, stood in front of Isabella, arms outstretched as the woman took yet another measurement.
“That should just about do it.” Isabella took a step back right as a man sashayed up to them.
“I am Alberto,” he announced. “I will transform your hair.”
“Oh.” Lux touched her bun. “Frankie said nothing about my hair.”
“I am the most important part of the makeover,” Alberto declared loud enough that several stopped what they were doing and glanced their way. He stepped forward, undid her bun, and ran his hands through her hair. “Your color… Are you a natural blonde?”
“I am.” Mother had harassed her for years to dye her hair because it reminded her too much of Lux’s father. Lux had never caved.
“Fabulous!” Alberto boomed. “I won’t touch that. But the rest is screaming for a refresh.”
Rude.Lux gave Isabella a beseeching look. “Where is Scott? Shouldn’t he have some say in what you all do to me?”
Alberto harrumphed. “He has no interest in how the sausage is made. He’s only interested in the finished product.”
“Oh.” Of course. Typical male.
“Darling, you are in excellent hands.” Isabella handed Lux a mimosa. “I’d dare say, if Scott were here, he’d do nothing but get in the way with his low-cut cleavage ideas.”
Lux took a sip of the drink, eyeballing Isabella as she did so. “On that, we agree.”
For the next hour, Alberto washed, cut, and styled Lux’s hair. Upon completion, he’d declared it his best work ever. She could neither confirm nor deny his boast, because she’d not been allowed to watch as he worked.
According to Alberto, she would not be permitted to see any of the results until her transformation was complete. On the bright side, he liked to chat as he worked. She’d learned from him that the room they were in was normally alive with top advertising models, persuasive photographers, and eccentric editors, but today, it had been set aside for the sole purpose of her transformation. He’d ended his chat with the words, “All in the name of helping their ever-so-popular relationship guru maintain his crown…so to speak.” The way he said it made her wonder if there was bad blood between the two.
After meeting with Alberto, she was directed to a makeup station to wait for Ziggy, who had been whisked away earlier to handle a model crisis. In the interim, Lux observed Isabella’s crew commanding the room. Arranged behind four laden tables, the assistants had everything laid out; fabrics cascaded over one, while another bristled with scissors, patterns, and pins. The steady hum of a sewing machine came from the third, and the last table was equipped with an iron and steamer. Behind the tables, rows of garments dangled from rolling racks, all being tailored to accommodate Lux’s fuller figure.
The atmosphere in the room magnified the clamoring shenanigans of Lux’s brain. The biggest development of all being the excitement brimming inside of her. For her life, she couldn’t figure out why that was. Intellectually, she wanted nothing to do with any of it, but somewhere deep within—it appeared—lived a girl longing for at least one rendezvous with the trappings of beauty.
The realization had had her stomach in a knot of conflict all morning.
I’m not doing this for a man. I’m doing this to prove it won’t be enough.Sure, she would garner attention from men, but catching the eye of a player and winning his heart were two different things.
“Remember to breathe,” Isabella said as she stopped by and held a couple of color swatches up to Lux’s face, then scurried off toward the line of sewing machines.
“I’ve returned!” Ziggy’s enthusiastic voice pierced the bustling atmosphere as he came to a stop in front of her. “Darling, you’re a blank canvas begging for a masterpiece!” After picking up what appeared to be a painter’s palette, he grabbed a fluffy brush with a pink handle out of an overflowing vase and then tilted his chin as he studied her face.
“I truly would prefer if you kept the transformation subtle,” she said.
“Nonsense. Ziggy doesn’t do subtle.” As he spoke, his hands danced around her with a conductor’s finesse, as if eager to begin. “Ziggy unleashes the goddess within!”
Luxury’s stomach clenched, not just in anticipation, but also in resistance. This entire endeavor, while promising a newfound allure, sharply contradicted her belief that a man should fall for her genuine self, not an embellished version created by makeup and designer attire. Then again, it’s not like she had a lot of choice in the matter. Necessity had brought her here, and like it or not, she would momentarily embrace a world she had always disdained and handle the fallout when it was over.
“As long as Ziggy recalls I’m more of a minimalist goddess,” Lux said.
“Minimalist, maximalist, it’s all about the essence, honey!” Ziggy replied, leading her to a chair in front of a mirror surrounded by lights. “Trust me, you’re going to love this.”
As Ziggy started working his magic, dabbing and brushing with the expertise of an artist, Luxury found herself relaxing. Each stroke of the brush was surprisingly soothing, a gentle nudge toward a world she had always viewed from a distance.
“Beauty isn’t about hiding,” Ziggy said after a bit. “It’s about highlighting who you already are. And honey, you are fabulous!”
Luxury blushed. “That’s sweet of you to say, but I know I’m not beautiful.”
“Whoever told you that should be expelled from your life forever!” He wagged a finger as he spoke. “They obviously do not have your best interest at heart.”
“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!”
This caused a lot of laughter, laughter that released the nerves she’d been holding in her neck all day.
She was about to thank them again when the studio door opened. “Frankie has sent me to teach you how to walk in stilettos,” announced an attractive woman. She held out a pair of killer nude heels.
Luxury glanced down at the sensible shoes she’d chosen from the ones Isabella had offered to go with the dress. “I’d much prefer—”
“It is my understanding your preference is of no matter,” the woman said. “Put those on. Time is wasting.”
Luxury did as she was told and immediately wobbled.
The woman handed her a skinny stick. “This is for balance until you’ve mastered the art of the runway walk.”
“The what?” Luxury asked.
“Darling, do you not watch fashion week? One does not simply walk in stilettos. They glide. Watch me. You step, heel first, then toe, and then your back foot slides up, toe first, to take a step directly in front of the front foot.”
“What?” Luxury asked, trying to visualize.
“Allow me to show you.” The woman did a sexy walk, hips swaying rhythmically with each step.
“It looks harder than it is,” Isabella whispered to Lux. “Just remember, heel, toe, heel toe.”
Luxury took a breath and, at the age of thirty-one, prepared to learn to walk again.