Sleeping with Beauty

by Donna Kauffman

  Jana was laughing on the other end of the line. “I’m telling you, just grab him by the tie and drag him to bed. He won’t care what color your skin is as long as most of it’s naked. You’ll get what you want, then you can kick his ass out when you’re done. Use him for a change, sweetie. Fair is fair.”

  “You are so not funny.” Lucy clicked off on Jana’s continued laughter.

  The ringing doorbell was replaced by sharp knocking.

  “Coming!” she called out, then did one of those panic dances where you take two steps to the bathroom, then turn around and grab everything off the bed, hop up and down while trying to figure out where to stash all your crap. Just in case, you know, the bed did come into play. In some alternate universe. Then she caught sight of her face in the closet mirror, promptly dropped the clothes and raced to the bathroom. “Just a minute!” she yelled as she turned on the knobs full force and began scrubbing the green goo off her skin. She was supposed to steam it off with towels, and as the stuff started to crack and grab at her skin as she all but clawed it off, she began to see why. “Ouch! Shit! Dammit!”

  More knocking, more bell ringing.

  “For God’s sake, hold your horses!” Giving up on the goo, happy that most of it was gone, she yanked at the rollers as she hurried to the door, knowing it was too late to do anything about her clothes. She was tossing rollers and pins onto the chair by the front door when a voice called out:

  “Lucy, darling? Are you home? I have something for you!”

  She slumped against the door. Vivian. She peeked through the peephole and sure enough, her fairy godmother stood on the other side in all her teased-red-flames of hair and painted-face glory.

  She unbolted and unchained and unlocked the door and opened it, not sure if she was happy to see her or dreading whatever—or whomever—the hell she might have brought with her. She sighed in relief to discover Vivian was alone.

  Unless you counted the bulging garment bag she’d slung over one bangle-braceleted arm. “Hi there, darling,” she said, giving Lucy an air kiss on one cheek as she breezed into her apartment on a wafting cloud of Black Cashmere.

  “Hi, yourself,” Lucy said, closing the door behind her. She caught her reflection in the tiny hat-stand mirror by the door and blanched. Her face was a vista of blotchy red patches from ripping off the mask and her hair was still half in rollers, the other half having already drooped into a rat’s nest of tangled loop-de-loops. Great. She looked like Princess Leia after a three-day coke binge. Pasting on a smile, she turned to face Vivian. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

  If she noticed Lucy’s less-than-desirable appearance, she was too politic to say anything about it. Or, more likely, simply chose not to. Vivian was rarely politic about anything. “A little birdie told me you were attending the Governor’s Ball at the Kennedy Center tonight. So I thought you might need something smashing to wear. I’d have come sooner, but I only managed to wangle the delivery of this sumptuous confection this afternoon.” She looked around for someplace to hang up the bag.

  Lucy crossed the room. “Here,” she said, pointing to her bedroom door. She took the bag, surprised by the weight of it, and hung it on the outside of her door. “Wow.”

  “Bugle beads,” Vivian said by way of explanation. “One of Bob’s favorite designs.”

  “Bob?”

  “Why, Mackie, darling, of course. You’re going to knock all their socks off tonight.” She stepped closer and peered at Lucy’s face. “Oh, dear. I thought it was unfortunate lighting.”

  “Mask incident.”

  Vivian brushed her hands together. “No matter, foundation will cover a multitude of sins.” She grinned. “And I should know.”

  Lucy smiled weakly in response. “You didn’t have to do this, Vivian. You know how much I appreciate it, but—”

  Vivian took one of her hands between both of her own, her expression turning surprisingly serious. “I know that, child.” She let go with one hand and covered her heart. “But it gives me enormous pleasure to see you become the swan you want to be.” She winked. “And I happen to like playing fairy godmother, and I have the wherewithal to do it. So deal with it!”

  Lucy felt like a total fraud, and something of that must have shown in her face because Vivian frowned. “What’s wrong, darling?” She tugged Lucy over to the couch. “Come, come, sit. Tell your fairy godmother everything.”

  Lucy and Vivian had spoken a handful of times as she’d continued dating Jason. Vivian had seemed so excited and happy at the prospect of Lucy’s grand “coming out,” as she’d called it, to the Washington social scene, that Lucy hadn’t had the heart to tell her she wasn’t enjoying it all as much as she’d hoped she would.

  “Has that gorgeous Prescott boy done wrong by you? Because I happen to know several of the elder partners in his firm and—”

  Alarmed, Lucy raised her hand. “No! I mean, no, no. It’s not Jason. Per se.” That last part slipped out.

  Vivian’s expression turned shrewd. She missed little. Which was why Lucy had begged off her repeated requests to meet for lunch over the past month. She knew Vivian would figure out her quandary in a heartbeat.

  “Then what is it?”

  Lucy searched for the right words. How to explain to Vivian that the world they’d handed her on a string, was, well, unraveling. “I know you told me that the longer I kept up appearances, the more natural it would feel to me. And there is a lot about the new me that I love. There is no doubt I’m more confident about myself, and for that I can never repay you.”

  “Oh, dear, I never meant for you to feel obligation.” Vivian looked so upset that Lucy took her hands now and squeezed them.

  “It’s not that. I—I just didn’t want to disappoint you, that’s all.”

  “You know, darling, you can’t operate your life by the fear of how others perceive you. Obviously you don’t want to disappoint, but you can’t do it at the expense of your own happiness and well-being. Nobody gains then. Tell me what’s wrong. Just come out with it. I promise not to be offended. Your happiness is what I most wish for you.”

  “I don’t fit in,” Lucy blurted. There, she’d said it. “I mean, I look like I do, and everyone accepts me just fine, but I don’t feel like I fit in with them. I have nothing in common with Jason’s friends or coworkers. For that matter, I have nothing in common with Jason.”

  “Come now, dear, people from all walks of life can find common ground.”

  “Maybe that’s just it. I’m not particularly drawn to that lifestyle or those people enough to want to find out what that is. And I don’t think Jason does, either. He hasn’t learned anything about me in the time we’ve been dating. You can’t even call it ‘dating.’ It’s always a business function. I’m pretty sure I’m just being used. You know, arm candy.” She felt ridiculous saying that.

  “And I’m sure you make smashing arm candy. But why continue to date him?” Vivian’s eyes widened. “I hope not out of some misguided idea that I expected you to—”

  Lucy waved her silent. “No, no, not at all. I mean, you seemed so excited about me seeing him and all, and I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t trying.”

  “Oh, dear,” Vivian said, sighing. “I’m so sorry, darling.”

  “It’s not your fault, really. I wanted to know for myself, too. And I guess part of me was hoping that if he kept asking me out and I kept being the perfect escort, things would change. But Jason only wants the part of me that shows up on his arm and doesn’t speak much.” She leaned back on the couch. “And to be honest with you, I’m not sure he has anything I want, either.”

  Vivian gave her that woman-to-woman look.

  “Well, of course I wanted that. Who wouldn’t?”

  “So use him as he uses you. Quid pro quo. Happens all the time in acceptable society.”

  “That’s what my friend Jana was just telling me.”

  “Wise woman, Jana.”

  “Believe me, if I thought I c
ould pull it off, maybe I would try. But I’m not cut out for that lifestyle, either. I don’t just want to be wanted sexually, or want someone sexually, I want—”

  “To be loved,” Vivian said solemnly. She rubbed Lucy’s knee, the rings on her fingers clinking together lightly. “Don’t we all.” Then that wicked smile returned. “But no need to dismiss the one while waiting for the other.”

  Lucy had to smile at that. She really was incorrigible, this godmother she’d somehow adopted. “I just don’t think I’m cut out for it.”

  “Well, that’s fair, too.” Vivian sighed a little, then patted her knee as the determined look came over her face again. “So what do you plan to do?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lucy said. “Jana and I were talking about that when you rang. I thought it was Jason coming early and I was sort of scrambling around.”

  “Maybe you should have just let him see you in all your preparatory glory. I firmly believe men would have a great deal more respect for us if they had even a glimpse into the horrors we submit ourselves to for their viewing pleasure.”

  “Amen to that. Except, knowing Jason, he’d have turned around and walked away. I’m sure he could find any one of a dozen suitable last-minute dates before he reached his car.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. That little black book might be filled with names and numbers, but they are hollow entries.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If he’s only investing his energy in advancing his own cause, then all the names and numbers in the world won’t make him a more enriched human being. How many people in that supposed book of his do you think really know the man and not just the figure? And how many of those names and numbers do you think know anything more about him than he knows about you?”

  Lucy thought about that.

  “So what if you can’t dial up a dozen men at the drop of a pin—though I could make that happen for you, too.”

  Lucy waved her hand. “Thanks, but no.”

  Vivian just smiled. “Just keep that in mind. But as I was saying, just because you don’t tote around a similar pile of entries doesn’t mean you don’t have him beat where it really counts. Friends. People who know and love you and would do anything for you. I seem to recall one rather nice one waiting for you outside Glass Slipper.”

  “Grady?”

  Vivian smiled. “He seemed quite taken with you.”

  Again, all Lucy could do was say “Grady?”

  Vivian lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I’m wrong.” But she said it in a way that left little doubt of what she believed.

  “He’s my oldest friend. We talked about that way back, remember? Although lately things have been a little rocky.”

  “‘Lately’ . . . since you’ve been dating Mr. Prescott?”

  Lucy frowned. Vivian couldn’t really think . . . her and Grady? “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say, he has no love lost for Jason.”

  “Hmm. Well, I suppose that’s really neither here nor there.” She smiled brightly, but Lucy wondered if she was really letting the matter drop or saving it for later. “All I’m saying is you don’t need a pile of friends, but you do need them. I’m not sure the Jason Prescotts of the world understand that. Until, of course, the tides of fortune turn against them and they find out the hard way.”

  Lucy studied Vivian for a long moment. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  “I do, dear. Unfortunately, I do. Back in my Hollywood days I was much like Jason. A ‘player,’ I think they call them now. And I ended up hurting a man who loved and trusted me, because I thought everyone was like me.” She smoothed her face with a smile. “I readily admit there is still more Jason in me than I’m proud of. But then, I am comfortable in that world. However, I know the value of friends now, and I am most loyal to those who have been loyal to me.” She took Lucy’s hand. “I hope you know I’ll be there for you, and accept my apologies for perhaps pushing you down the path that I mistakenly took myself, so many years ago. One thing I have learned is you have to be true to yourself above all else.”

  “Which means breaking up with Jason,” Lucy said.

  Vivian just shrugged. “If that’s what you think is best for you.” She stood. “I’ll leave the dress here anyway. It might be fun just to play dress-up.” She checked her watch. “And as much as I hate to dash off, I’m expected at a dinner shortly. Aurora will nag me all evening if I’m late.”

  Lucy followed Vivian to the door, then when she turned to say good-bye, she impulsively hugged her. Careful not to muss Vivian’s hair or her makeup, of course.

  At first Vivian was startled by the display, but she quickly returned the hug, perhaps even more tightly. She bussed Lucy’s cheek, then used her thumb to remove the lipstick print. “You are a strong one, Lucy Harper,” she told her, her eyes glistening with affection. “You’ll always be a swan to me.”

  Now Lucy’s eyes began to swim, and when they both sniffed, Vivian laughed. “God, aren’t we a pair.”

  A knock on the door startled them both.

  “Jason!” they both whispered, eyes wide, as they stared at the door, then each other.

  “I’m not ready!” Lucy whispered heatedly. “For any of this.” She clutched Vivian’s arm. “I know you have to go. But can you, I don’t know, work your godmother magic and somehow get him to wait outside for . . . a few days?” She was being ridiculous, of course, but panic did that to her.

  Vivian turned her head and peeked out the eyehole, then looked to Lucy in surprise as she stepped back and opened the door.

  “Vivian!” Lucy hissed. She leapt back, prepared to dash to her bedroom and simply lock herself in forever, or until Jason left, whichever came first.

  But then the door swung wide.

  “Grady?”

  Chapter 26

  Ah, hi! What brings you by?”

  Vivian looked back at a clearly startled Lucy, then to the young man who’d rattled her composure. Tall, lanky, nice cheekbones. He was even nicer close-up. Of course, she personally preferred her men a little more groomed, but she supposed his thick mop of glossy dark curls would appeal to some.

  She gave him a smile, then nudged Lucy. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your gentleman caller?”

  “What? Oh, right. Vivian, this is Grady Matthews.”

  Vivian smiled and extended her hand. “We were just talking about you.”

  Lucy rushed on with the introductions. “Grady, this is Vivian dePalma.” Lucy shifted her gaze to Grady.

  Vivian didn’t miss the warning note. Interesting.

  “She’s one of the owners of Glass Slipper.”

  Grady held Lucy’s gaze for a challenging moment, then took Vivian’s extended hand in his own much larger one. Quite large, Vivian noted with approval. Some old wives’ tales weren’t tales, after all.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice a lovely mellow bass to go along with his height. “Lucy has had nothing but nice things to say about you.”

  Pleasant and polite, too. And if she wasn’t mistaken—and she rarely was—the intensity with which Grady held the regard of her Lucy spoke of feelings far stronger than an old friendship. So she hadn’t misread the situation that day. She held on to his hand a scant moment longer than necessary, quite aware of Lucy fidgeting beside her. Of course, her beau was set to arrive any moment and it was obvious she didn’t want the two men’s paths to cross.

  If Lucy wasn’t so busy worrying about tuning in to her own signals, maybe she’d have already picked up on his.

  She reluctantly released Grady’s hand, but her smile grew as she began to put a plan together. Lucy clearly adored this fine young man. And friendships were often the basis for some of the strongest love matches. Lucy wanted someone who both loved her and wanted her. All she had to do was have something—or someone—open her eyes to what was right in front of her face. Well, that shouldn’t be too hard for a fairy godmother to pull off.

  “The pleasure i
s all mine, I assure you.” She smiled at Lucy. She was going to get lucky, all right. In ways she’d never imagined. “Well,” she said with a note of finality, “I wish I could stay and chat with you both, but I must be off.”

  Lucy appeared uncertain how to juggle yet another visitor and the impending arrival of her date. Vivian’s heart tugged a little at the beseeching look she darted her way. She was going to help her. She only hoped Lucy appreciated her interference when the dust settled.

  “Grady,” she said, then offered him her best smile, “you don’t mind if I call you Grady, do you?” She kept her hand on the sleeve of his coat.

  He managed to pull his gaze away from Lucy long enough to look down at her. She admired his barely restrained patience. My, my. How could Lucy not see what she had here? The intensity was all but scorching. Yum.

  “No, not at all,” Grady assured her.

  “I so hate to be a bother, but would you mind terribly fetching me that garment bag?”

  “But—”

  She talked over Lucy’s startled reaction. “It’s right inside, hanging on the bedroom door. You can’t miss it.”

  “Ah, sure. No problem.” Grady ducked past Lucy and headed inside.

  Lucy bent closer to Vivian and in a hushed whisper said, “What are you doing? I thought I was supposed to wear that dress on my date tonight?”

  “I thought you were going to cancel?”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

  Vivian took hold of Lucy’s forearms and tugged her close. “Honey, if you’re smart, you’ll dial up Jason’s cell phone and beg off. Your . . . friend here looks to me as if he has something important he needs to discuss with you.”

  “Grady? Why would you think that? Besides, if Grady needed to talk to me, he has had ample time over the past few weeks. Whatever he has to talk about now can wait.”

  Vivian looked past her to where Grady was wrestling the garment bag into submission over his arm. Her time was short. “You were going to put Jason off anyway. And if you and Grady have been having problems, then you should see to those instead. After all, isn’t he more important to you than Jason?” She looked up and smiled. “Ah, there you go.” She stepped past Lucy and took the garment bag from Grady’s arm. “Aurora would have had my head if I’d forgotten this.” She glanced back to Lucy. “You know what, let me take care of that other little matter for you.” She glanced at the wall clock. “In fact, I imagine I can handle it on my way out.”