“No. I wanted to talk to you about men. And sex. I take it you’re not getting much, am I right?”
If she’d been drinking something, Lucy would have either snorted it through her nose or aspirated it. As it was, she choked on her own spit. “What?” she finally managed, after she got done coughing and Vivian brought her a glass of water from the bathroom.
“I don’t mean to pry—well, actually, that’s exactly what I mean to do. But trust me, it’s only because I’m trying to help.”
“And knowing about my sex life is going to help exactly how?”
More of the gleaming-eye thing. “Consider it another layer of paint.”
Lucy shifted on the bed, trying not to scowl. “Yeah, well, I’m showing a bit more wood than I’m comfortable exposing at the moment.”
Vivian took the glass from her and patted her on the shoulder. “Facing your discomfort will do wonders. Besides, it’s just between us girls.” She placed the glass on the dresser, then turned and folded her arms, all ears and eager to listen. “So, tell me, when was the last time you had sex?”
Lucy just stared at her, wondering how it was their conversation had taken such a drastic turn. “I, uh, well . . .”
“That long?” Vivian broke in, saving her from actually having to do the math. She made another tsking sound. “Darling, you really have been hiding your light, haven’t you?”
She’d gone from a restoration project to a lighthouse shrouded in thick fog. “I wouldn’t say I’ve been hiding it so much as the beam itself doesn’t seem to attract the men I’m interested in.”
“Yes, well, men can be such dense creatures.”
“They’re visual creatures,” Lucy said, then gestured to herself. “Even Grady goes to Hooters, for God’s sake.”
“And Grady would be?”
“One of my two best friends. Very cerebral guy, kind of a dork, like me, but a very endearing one. He’s much more at ease in his own skin than I am. Wickedly funny. And actually appreciates intellectual stimulation.”
“Sounds like a catch. Is he married?”
“To his job. But for all of his smarts and common sense, I recently discovered even he’s not immune to a hard body and firm set of, well, hooters.”
“You sound dismayed.”
“Not really. He’s certainly free to do whatever he wants. He’s been nothing but the most loyal friend to me. I’d trust him with my life. In fact, he brought me here even though he was against the whole thing.”
“‘Against’ it? But you just said his head could be turned by a hot piece.”
Lucy’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. Vivian was a source of constant amazement. “Which is why it was so frustrating for him not to understand why I’d want to find some tiny, infinitesimal element of that inside myself.”
“You said Grady is at ease in his own skin. Is that what you want? To be more at ease in your own skin?”
Lucy laughed a little. “Maybe women are visual creatures, too. I’m not much of a vision. And for me, being at ease in my own skin means liking the shell a bit more than I do at the moment, maybe feeling a bit more coordinated with it, as well. Which was where I’d hoped you’d come in.”
“So this is only partly about developing your sense of self, searching for your inner goddess, as it were. You’re thinking that an improved shell will help attract the kind of male attention you’ve been missing?”
Lucy smiled. “Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t argue if an improved sex life turned out to be a side benefit of my transformation. And I don’t know about ‘goddess.’ I’d be happy with ‘passably attractive’ and ‘moderately graceful.’ ”
“You’re already all those things.”
“On the inside,” Lucy finished for her.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say. I merely meant that you have beauty, and you have charm and grace. You’re also smart, with a sharp mind and, I’m betting, a rather wicked sense of humor. It’s confidence and belief in yourself that you’re sorely lacking.”
Lucy didn’t have any trouble buying that part of it. “So how do I get that? I mean, it’s not like you can wave a magic wand, right?”
“Well, they don’t call us ‘the godmothers’ for nothing.”
Lucy smiled. “When I signed up for this, I was hoping that with proper instruction on things like makeup, help on styling my hair and . . . I don’t know, someone to help me develop a better sense of fashion, help me find a look. If I had all that, wouldn’t the confidence come along naturally?”
“Certainly looking good can do a world of wonders for a person’s attitude. But it’s still a surface change. You need to learn to trust in yourself. Trust that you’re interesting, witty, fun to be around, and an all-around fabulous girl . . . with or without the cosmetic trappings. That’s just icing. You need to believe you’re fabulous no matter what state the shell is in.” Before Lucy could comment on that, Vivian said, “Is it Grady’s attention you want from this?”
“God, no,” she said on a shocked laugh. “He’s like a brother to me, and an oftentimes annoying one at that. I’m the same to him, I’m sure. I’d just hoped he’d be more understanding about my need to at least try and find that easy sense of self he already has.”
“Maybe he thinks you have that already. That you’re already a hot piece.”
“Ch-yeah,” Lucy snorted. “Except, not. Of all the people in the world, Grady better than anyone understands just how not hot I am. He’s seen me firsthand at my absolute dorkiest.”
“Uh-huh,” Vivian said. “Maybe he sees nothing wrong with that. Does he date what you’d term ‘hot’ women?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said he was kind of dorky like you, but that he liked looking at hot women. You also said the men you find attractive don’t seem to notice you. So I’m asking if he’s been able to get the attention of women who are comparable to these men you referred to.” She folded her arms. “Or does he merely stare at them at Hooters to get fodder for nights spent alone with his right hand?”
Lucy gaped, choking on a laugh. “He dates real women. All kinds of women, I guess you’d say. It’s that confidence thing, I think. But I can’t really tell you much more than that.” She paused, then added on a snicker, “Except that he’s left-handed.”
“Ha!” Vivian hooted and made a little mark in the air with her finger, as if putting a point in the Lucy column. “So why can’t you tell me more? Haven’t you met his dates? Gone out together as a group, that sort of thing?”
“Not really. Like I said, the only serious relationship he’s ever had has been with his work. He’s a brainiac engineer who designs hush-hush super-secret spy gizmos. Which would be more fascinating if he was actually allowed to tell us anything about them. But he’s completely devoted to his lab. So he doesn’t date anyone long enough to introduce them to us. ‘Us’ being me and Jana, our other close friend. She’s already married. We’re family to one another, and you don’t just bring anyone home to family.”
“I see.”
Lucy had the feeling Vivian did, in fact, see a great deal. Of course, it helped that she’d somehow gotten Lucy to open up about every damn thing. It was a little unnerving to realize how easily she’d managed it, too.
“What about Jana?” Vivian asked. “Did she support your decision to come here?”
“She wasn’t as bad as Grady, but no, not really. I think she thought I was looking for a cosmetic Band-Aid or something. She was more concerned that I’d get my hopes up, only to have them dashed again.”
“‘Again’?”
Lucy sighed. See? This was exactly the thing. Vivian had her spewing out all kinds of information she’d never intended to reveal. “Back in high school, there was a boy—a guy—that I had a crush on. At our senior prom, I got myself all dolled up, or so I thought, with the idea that I was going to make him notice me or die trying.”
“And?”
“I wish I’d died before trying. It would
have been less mortifying.”
“And this guy, he’s going to be at the reunion, I take it? Still single?”
She was like cellophane, apparently. A woman of mystery, Lucy Harper was not. And never would be, it seemed. “As a matter of fact, yes. But I swear, I’m not here because of Jason Prescott. Granted, it would be a nice bonus to make him grovel and beg, but despite my dreams of goddess grandeur, I assure you I’m still grounded in cold, hard, dorky reality.”
“But Grady and Jana think this is about Jason. Haven’t you told them how unsettled you’ve been feeling? That you’ve felt like you weren’t reaching your potential?”
In two sentences, Vivian had nailed down exactly how Lucy had been feeling for ages. Hell, most of her entire life. It was amazing how good it felt for someone to finally hear what she’d been saying. For that one moment alone, this whole endeavor was worth every penny.
“No. I—I guess I didn’t have the right words. I mean, we bitch about this kind of stuff all the time, and have ever since we realized there was a cool crowd, and then there was us. I’ve certainly whined about the unfairness of it all. You know, the ‘Why me? Why do I have to be such a dork?’ kind of thing.” She paused, looked down for a moment. “But no, I’ve never told anyone exactly how I feel. Like I’m . . . unfinished.” She looked up at Vivian. “It’s like, just when I start to let go, feel good about myself, trust that there is more to me than meets the eye . . . I’ll inevitably catch my reflection, totally off guard. And every time there is this moment of shock, like, ‘Who is that?’ That gawky klutz with the lumpy hair and knobby knees isn’t me. That’s not how I feel on the inside. On the inside, I’m capable of being fabulous. Fabulous doesn’t look like that.” She gave a dry laugh. “That probably sounds insane. In fact, it did sound insane. Which is precisely why I’ve never said it out loud before.”
“Maybe you should have. You’d have discovered that we all feel like that, to some degree.”
“Maybe,” Lucy said, though privately she didn’t believe it. “But it goes back to being easy in your own skin. Some people most definitely are. Like Grady. And, for a while now, Jana, too. I’m definitely not there yet. And I’m not sure I’ll ever be without a little help. Guidance.”
“Your inner goddess,” Vivian said.
“What?”
“That’s what you were feeling. When you’re not self-conscious and worried about how you look or sound or act, you’re realizing your inner goddess. The fabulous you that you already are.”
Lucy thought about that for a moment, then shook her head. “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that on the outside, I’m still all geek. I can’t seem to fuse the two together. And the geek side wins out every time.”
“There are plenty of women, and men, who aren’t what anyone would call classically beautiful. Some of them are, in fact, quite geeky. Maybe even klutzy. And yet they still draw the eye, command attention. Because rather than hide their vulnerability, their lack of utter perfection, or worse, feel shamed by it, they sort of embrace it, accept it, and go on anyway. At ease in their own dorky skin. I think you’d be surprised to know how very endearing that sort of self-acceptance can be. Sexy, even.”
“Grady has that,” Lucy said, thinking on what Vivian had said. “Although if you tell him I thought he was sexy, I’ll go to the grave denying it.” She grinned. “He’d never let me live that down. But I envy him that sense of self.”
Vivian waved a hand the length of her body. “I’m hardly what anyone would call a beauty, and yet I’ve never lacked for attention of any sort. It’s attitude, darling. And belief in your inner fabulousness.”
“So you’re saying I should embrace my dorkiness and all will be fine?” It was clear from Lucy’s tone what her opinion of that solution was. “That won’t keep me from tripping over my own fabulous size-ten feet.”
“I think you’d be surprised at the results.” Vivian sighed a little and looked Lucy over. Really looked her over. “But, you know, I’m also thinking that maybe what you said earlier has merit. About how feeling good about yourself allows your confidence to take deeper root. Maybe you do need some visual proof of the goddess within, to truly believe it.” She tugged Lucy to a stand, then turned her all the way around until she was facing her again. “With the time frame available to us, I think we will tackle both the inside and the out simultaneously.” She beamed. “And when the two come together, darling, I can promise you, you won’t have a choice but to believe just how fabulous you really are.” She clapped her hands, then her face lit with purpose and excitement. “This is going to be vastly rewarding.”
Rewarding. So why was it Lucy felt like she was going to throw up? She wished she felt the same free and easy sense of anticipation that Vivian did. That’ll teach you to be careful what you wish for. Lucy looked at the real-life incarnation of her very own fairy godmother, noted the devilish twinkle in her eyes . . . and wondered what in the hell she’d gotten herself into now.
“Come now, darling, we need to start developing your regimen right away.”
Yeah, that’s what worried her. But one ray of hope shone through the new batch of fears threatening to send her into a panic. “Does this mean no appointment with the shrink?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
But before Lucy could complete her whooshing sigh of relief, Vivian added, “From now on, you’ll be working directly with me.”
Chapter 8
I heard from Lucy.”
Grady froze with the pizza halfway to his mouth. “She called you?” It shouldn’t have bothered him. After all, Jana was her best friend. “I thought any contact with the non-Barbie world was verboten.”
“She left a message on my cell yesterday.” Jana wrapped a piece of dangling cheese around her finger, then popped it into her mouth. “SOS call.”
Okay, he was definitely bothered. Jana might be her best friend, the one Lucy turned to for gossip and anything PMS related, but when it came to rescues, that was his job. He bit off the end of his pizza, then grew reflective as he chewed. There was a potential bright side to this. If Lucy was trying to break out after only one day, maybe they could put this whole self-improvement thing behind them and go back to the way things were.
Jana plucked an olive off her pizza and flicked it at him.
“Hey!” He peeled the offensive black ring from his forehead, then tossed it into the almost empty box with a grimace. “Olives, yuck. I can’t believe they got our order wrong. We’ve only been ordering pizza from Brick Oven for how many years now?”
“They didn’t get the order wrong,” Jana said as she chewed.
Grady glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “Since when do you like olives?”
“I have no idea.” She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I just looked at the picture on the coupon and thought it looked good and heard myself order it when the person came on the line.”
Grady just looked at her, but finally shrugged. Women. Sometimes even the ones he knew the best stumped him. “So why the flickage?” He rubbed at the little grease spot on his forehead. “What was that about?”
She polished off the last bit of crust and reached for her Coke. “Perfectly good waste of an olive?”
First the flickage, now evasiveness. He definitely should have stayed in the lab. He wasn’t up to playing Decipher Her Thoughts tonight. But before he could comment, he watched as she reached for her fourth slice. Grinning, he motioned to the cheese-heavy slice she’d already taken a huge bite out of. “What, didn’t they let the girl reporter eat today?”
Jana just sighed in mozzarella bliss as she swallowed. “Reporting is hard work. And the reason for the flickage was that face you made when I mentioned the SOS call.”
“What face?”
Jana pulled a hangdog expression. “That face.”
“I never make that face.”
“No, you’re right. You do it much better than me. More practice.”
“Great, just g
reat. I come over here for Pizza Night, bring you Coke”—he mock shuddered and downed a slug of his beer—“and even paid for the damn pie when you couldn’t find your wallet—”
“I told you, it’s in my car. Must have fallen out of my bag when I got home. I offered to go down and check. I don’t know where my brain is these days.”
Grady waved his hand in a faux magnanimous gesture. “No, no. I don’t mind. And I know exactly where your brain is. All that baby-making with Dave. But now you’re going to flick condiments at me and tell me I look funny. Is that any kind of gratitude for babysitting you through Dave’s layover in Vancouver?”
Jana spluttered, as he’d known she would. “‘Babysitting’? This is Pizza Night. We have them all the time.”
“Except we weren’t going to this week because of Lucy being gone and you and Dave doing—you know.” He covered his eyes. “Visuals of which I really just don’t want to think about, if it’s all right with you.”
“What, did the Blockbuster manager turn you down?”
He peered through his fingers. “She got promoted. Transferred to someplace in Prince Georges.”
“Ah,” Jana said, not looking remotely sorry for his predicament.
Frankly, he hadn’t been that put out, either. He’d hoped to distract himself from the whole Lucy/Barbie makeover thing with an advance screening of something interesting, followed by whatever he could manage afterward. He should have been more disappointed to find out Pam had left the area and not even bothered to let him know. It wasn’t like they were exclusive. Hell, it wasn’t even like they were dating. One date did not a relationship make. “But like I told you before, my social schedule doesn’t hinge on Lucy’s whereabouts.”
“Which is why I called and invited you over for pizza, dummy.” She polished off the last bite. “But let’s not debate who is babysitting whom here.”
Grady let the jab pass, mostly because he realized he was happier here, anyway, despite the lack of sex in his immediate future. He missed Lucy. And though he’d been a bit concerned that Jana might get all weird on him like she had on The Mall the other day, he’d chalked that up to the whole baby thing. He’d been happy to hear from her, and so far, other than killing half a large pie all by herself, she’d been pretty much normal. Until the olive flick. “So, what happened with the SOS?”
Sleeping with Beauty Page 9
