Sleeping with Beauty by Donna Kauffman Page A

healthy.”
    “It’s not like I’m fixated on it or anything.”
    Aurora’s smile turned knowing. “I know. It’s . . . complicated, isn’t it?”
    Hoist by my own petard.
    “Yes. But I don’t see how telling you all the sordid details will really impact my two-week stay here. Just teach me how to do my hair, put on my makeup, give me some remedial fashion help, and make sure I don’t trip over my own two feet. I’ll be more than happy.”
    “What have you read about Glass Slipper, Inc.?”
    “What do you mean? I read your magazine occasionally. I know you do makeovers. That you’re considered the best in the business.” Lucy shot her a self-deprecating smile. “I figured that’s what it was going to take. Your two-week program sounded like it was the kind of all-around intensive program I’d need. A kind of makeover camp.”
    “Have you heard the phrase ‘life makeover’?”
    “I know that’s what you call what it is you do here. And I know you do a lot more than help make ugly ducklings into swans, but I don’t need all that. I don’t need help getting a better job or finding a husband. I just want to get through one night looking like someone who has her act together. Unshakable.”
    “Bulletproof,” Aurora said.
    “Exactly. And honestly, I am realistic about all this. Short of applying for
Extreme Makeover,
I know my improvement options here are limited.”
    “What do you think about the phrase ‘Beauty comes from the inside’?”
    Lucy snorted. “I think that no one cares about Pam Anderson’s insides. But I know what you’re really asking. And sure, some people might not be conventionally attractive and yet they are still compelling. I think that comes from having a certain level of self-confidence that they have their act together.”
    “And do you think those people you went to high school with all have their acts together?”
    “Of course not. And I realize that rather than finding solace in like recognizing like, they feel compelled to confirm the status of their peer group by denigrating all those who they feel don’t measure up.”
    “So maybe they’re the ones who need their head examined. Not you.”
    Lucy smiled a little. “You said it, I didn’t.”
    Aurora sat forward in her chair and set her cup and saucer back on the table. “I’m happy with the progress we made today.” She slid a small spiral-bound notebook out from the folds of her caftan.
    Lucy recognized it as the chart Audrey had begun for her earlier.
    “I see you have a session first thing in the morning,” she said, tapping the schedule with a long fingernail. “So we’ll schedule you in at ten.” She looked up and smiled. “Phoebe should be back by then.”
    “Tomorrow? I have another appointment?”
    Aurora nodded. “I can’t really pursue much further than this. She’s more qualified, dear. Trust me, you’ll get a greater benefit from continuing with her.”
    “But—”
    Just then there was a chirping noise. Aurora fumbled in the folds of her caftan and produced a slender cell phone. Lucy wondered what the hell else she might be concealing. Probably a tape recorder, she thought with a defeated sigh.
    “I’m terribly sorry,” Aurora told her, “but I have to take this. I’ll have Audrey confirm your appointment for tomorrow.”
    As if so commanded, the office door cracked open and there was Audrey, beckoning Lucy to follow her. How long had she been out there? Had she been listening to the whole session?
    Lucy lifted her hand in response to Aurora’s brief wave and smile, then stood and followed Audrey out as if on autopilot. She wasn’t in Barbie Boot Camp, she thought as she followed the back of Audrey’s perfectly pressed linen blazer. She was in Stepford Wife Hell.
    Well. Not for long. She wasn’t exactly a prisoner here.

Chapter 5