Sleeping with Beauty Read online

  “Maybe for mere mortals.”

  “My wanting to go has nothing to do with Jason,” she said, making a valiant effort. Then failing miserably by adding, “Not specifically, anyway.”

  “Ah-hah!”

  “Don’t ah-hah me.” Lucy fished the rolled-up magazine from her shoulder bag and smoothed it open. “If blame must be placed, focus your derision and scorn here.”

  Jana adjusted her glasses and picked up the magazine, folding it back to the article Lucy had dog-eared. She read silently. Well, mostly silently. There was the occasional snort, punctuated with an intermittent eye roll or sigh of disgust. Finally she dropped the magazine back on the computer station like a piece of contaminated sewage, then lowered her glasses and looked at Lucy over the skinny black rims. Another thing redheads were good at, it turned out. “So, you’re honestly considering going to Beauty Queen Boot Camp? Have you completely lost your mind?”

  “See why I didn’t tell you?” Lucy snatched the magazine back and stuffed it in her purse. “I knew you’d be judgmental.”

  Jana just laughed. “Ch-yeah. And with good reason. Ten years of maintaining absolute distance from those jerks, a decade of proving to yourself that you’re everything they claimed you’d never be.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Successful. Happy.”

  “Alone.” Lucy hadn’t meant to say that out loud, it just popped out.

  Jana goggled. “And?” She waved Lucy silent. “First off, you’re single. Hardly alone. And hardly a curse, I might add.”

  “Says the happily married woman who found someone who adores her.” Lucy’s tone turned dust-dry. “Frizzy hair, obnoxious attitude and all.”

  “Yeah. A guy who gets hit in the head with flying pieces of rubber for a living. Obviously he’s an anomaly of the species.” But she had that smile. That smile she always got when the subject of Dave came up. Jana might be all harsh talk and frizzy edges, but mention her husband, and something in her demeanor softened in a way Lucy had never seen before.

  Was it so wrong that she envied her best friend that telltale softening moment?

  “But being single has nothing to do with this,” Lucy said, determined to get control of this conversation. She just wished she’d thought out her defense a little bit better before revealing her decision. “I’m not going for the makeover so I can go to the reunion to meet men.”

  “Maybe not men, plural. But are you telling me that finding out Prescott is single and RSVP’d, didn’t seal the deal?” She waved her nail-bitten fingers in Lucy’s face. “Hello? I was at the prom, too, remember? And I was also by your side that whole summer, listening to you moon and moan over that jerk until we finally got to Georgetown and got your head out of your ass.”

  “Thank you for that kind analysis. But he’s not—”

  Jana flipped her hand up. “Uh-uh. Not another word.”

  “He’s not the reason,” Lucy finished stubbornly. “I was already considering going to Glass Slipper and the reunion before I found out for sure that Jason was coming back. It just so happened that I picked up the issue with that article the same day the invitation for the reunion came. I couldn’t help wondering—”

  “Hallucinating.”

  Lucy just made a face at her friend. “—what it would be like to get the full makeover, then show up and blow them all away. You can hardly blame me for that little fantasy, can you?”

  “‘Fantasy.’ Exactly.”

  Lucy studied her own short, chipped nails. “Okay, okay. Maybe reading that post about Jason did cement the decision.” She looked up at Jana, serious now. “Is it really so awful that I want to get back some of what they took from me? Not just Jason. All of them.”

  Jana sighed now and reached for Lucy’s hands, folding them in her grip. “It’s been ten years. How can you let them matter to you again?” She squeezed her fingers. “You’re a fabulous person. And the very last group you need to prove that to is a bunch of egotistical idiots we haven’t seen since high school. And don’t get mad at me for saying this, but part of me feels you’d be selling out. Admitting you’re not good enough the way you are. And you’re just damn fine.”

  Lucy threw up her hands. “Easy for you to say. You have everything you want!”

  “Not everything,” she muttered. “But I didn’t have to turn myself into someone I’m not to get what I do have.” Jana blew out a heavy breath. “I can’t even believe we have to have this conversation, but come on. You don’t have to change the way you look to prove anything to anyone. And please, you’re tall and skinny; do you know how many women would kill to have your metabolism?”

  “Yeah. I’m the Janeane Garofalo of supermodels. Please.” Before Jana could get wound up again, Lucy tugged her hands free. “I don’t want to argue about this, okay? If any two people have hashed and rehashed why appearances aren’t everything, it’s you and me. And it’s not like I’m the walking wounded, ten years later.” Her gaze flickered to the computer screen, then back to Jana’s raised eyebrows. “Okay, yes, the invite and reading these posts did dredge up a few unpleasant emotions that I thought were long since buried. I’m not proud that I let them get to me.” She fingered the corners of the magazine. “But I can’t deny that when I saw the cover story about this two-week intensive program, I was a little tempted. Only, I don’t see it as giving in, more like beating them at their own game. You know, Julia Roberts rubbing it in the face of those snotty boutique bitches in Pretty Woman with her ‘big mistake’ comment. Everyone cheered her, everyone got that moment of triumph.”

  “Lucy—”

  “No, let me finish. You know, you kind of came into your own in college.” She ignored Jana’s snort. They both knew it was true. “I never felt like I did. And then you met Dave, and, well, I’m not saying you need him to validate your existence or complete you or anything ridiculous like that, but in terms of self-confidence, there has to be some sort of inner sense of satisfaction that comes with knowing you can fit in with another person like that. Share who you are with someone else on that intimate, connected level.”

  “I understand,” Jana said sincerely. “I do, but—”

  “Well, who doesn’t want that? I do. But I can’t make that happen. It either will, or it won’t. So is it really so bad to want at least a moment of satisfaction that I can make happen?” Lucy asked. “I know it’s a hollow victory, that these people mean nothing to me in my life today. But . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not about them. Maybe it’s about me, and they’re just a convenient measuring stick. All I know is I have something I need to prove to myself.”

  “Then prove it by going back the way you are right now and being fine in your own skin.”

  There was no point stalling any longer. “I’ve already signed up,” she admitted, then forced a smile in the face of Jana’s sincere concern. “If nothing else, it will make for a great ‘How I Spent My Summer Vacation’ story, right?”

  Jana gave her a halfhearted smile. “I want you to be happy. I guess I just wish you didn’t feel you needed this. The makeover or the reunion.”

  Lucy unwedged herself from her chair and stood. “If I go to Glass Slipper and I don’t feel comfortable with how it turns out, I don’t have to go to the reunion. But you know, it’s not like they’re going to cut into my flesh. I’m not going to come out permanently altered or anything. They’ll primp and prod, and who knows, maybe I’ll finally learn the secret to putting on eyeliner so I don’t look like Tammy Faye. But really, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  The door to the classroom opened just then and Grady walked in carrying a Domino’s box and a six-pack. He took in Lucy with her fists on her hips and Jana’s set expression and said, “What did I miss?”

  Lucy jumped in before Jana could speak. “You can’t have alcohol on school premises.” She nodded to the six-pack.

  “It’s root beer,” he told her, rattling the brown glass bottles in the cardboard carrier.

  “Oh. Wi
th pizza? Ew.” But the pizza smelled so good she could almost convince herself she was still hungry. Okay, so it didn’t take that much convincing. He flipped open the box. Deep dish, loaded. She shot him a wry smile. “So I guess dinner went well last night?”

  Grady gave his customary half shrug and changed the subject as he always did. “So tell me what’s wrong with you two. Nothing amusing on the reunion loop today?”

  “You know,” Lucy began, wishing she’d never told Jana anything, “maybe we should head out somewhere. I can finish this stuff later, and a cold beer—a real beer—is actually sounding pretty good right about now.”

  “She’s going to Barbie Boot Camp,” Jana informed him.

  Grady looked at Lucy, then at Jana, then back to Lucy again. Then he smiled. It really was his best feature. His hair was still a mop of brown curls, albeit a shorter, salon-managed mop, and his eyes just as brown and soulful. Most of the time he looked exactly like what he was: a slightly distracted, somewhat overserious tech engineer who was probably right that minute thinking about something involving quadratic equations and microchips.

  But when he smiled, everything changed. It brought this kind of charming yet devilish glint to his eyes. Add in the tousled hair, and he looked somewhat impish, like he might take delight in doing something a bit naughty. Jana and Lucy had long since decided this was the weapon he used to get women into bed. Because, unless they got turned on discussing things like complex atomic particle theory, it was pretty much the only weapon he had.

  “‘Barbie Boot Camp’?” He sat on top of one of the desks and hooked his feet through the seat. When Lucy said nothing, he took a healthy bite of pizza and motioned Jana to continue.

  “I’m not going to talk about it,” Lucy blurted, already disgusted with the two of them. “You two can dissect this all you want, but I’ve already sent in my deposit. It’s my two-week vacation; I can use it however I want.”

  Grady just ignored her and motioned to Jana again.

  “It’s the reunion,” she told him. “Lucy has this unhinged notion that if she turns herself into some kind of Stepford Graduate, the stunned reactions of our former classmates will magically erase the indignities she suffered at their hands.” Jana reached over and snatched a slice, carefully flicking off the offending olives first. “And then there’s the whole Jason Prescott element,” she added, pointedly ignoring Lucy’s openmouthed look of protest as she sank her teeth into her pizza.

  Grady swung his gaze immediately to Lucy, all traces of his impish smile gone. “What about Prescott?”

  “It’s nothing,” she said stubbornly, glaring at them both.

  Jana snorted. “The teen idol of Grant High School is coming to the reunion.” She used her pizza to punctuate her statement. “Solo.” She looked at Lucy. “Don’t even try to convince Grady that wasn’t part of your plan.” She sat back then and enjoyed the rest of her slice, satisfied that Grady would finish things for her.

  They both knew that Grady had never forgiven Jason for what he’d done to his best friend. Unfortunately, Grady hadn’t the requisite posse of defensive linesmen to help him do anything about it. Three guys from the math debate team weren’t quite going to cut it. But during her heartbroken months afterward, he’d made no secret of the fact that Lucy was wasting her tears on a guy like Jason Prescott.

  She agreed with him wholeheartedly. Now, anyway. But that didn’t lessen her desire for a little payback. If anything, it did the opposite.

  “I said it all ten years ago,” Grady said, tossing his uneaten crust back in the box. He looked at her as if he was going to add something, then looked away, shaking his head. “I give up. You’re going to do what you want to do anyway. Enjoy the rest of the pie.” He shoved off the desk and headed toward the door.

  Lucy moved after him. “Grady, come on.”

  “I have to get back to the lab. I’ll talk to you later.” The door swung shut behind him.

  Lucy spun back to Jana, but one look at her set expression told her she wasn’t going to find any regret there. Slumping against the bulletin board, she folded her arms and said, “Well, he didn’t have to stalk out of here like that.”

  “You can hardly blame him. You know how he felt about all that.”

  “You didn’t have to bring it up,” Lucy said, but Jana didn’t have to respond that he’d have found out anyway. Feeling lousy now and not exactly sure it was fair that she was the bad guy in all this, she blew out a sigh and pushed away from the wall. “I’m sorry you guys are so against me trying to improve myself.” Okay, so that sounded petulant. But bad guys were allowed to pout, weren’t they?

  Jana clicked the program closed and shut down the computer. “I’ve got nothing against self-improvement. It was the motive behind your decision that got me.” She cleaned up her trash and closed the pizza box before finally looking over at Lucy. After a brief standoff, she let her shoulders slump in resignation. “I’m not trying to rain on your Barbie Makeover parade, okay? I just . . . you know, I just don’t want you to do things for the wrong reasons and get yourself hurt all over again. It’s not worth it. Not for this.”

  Lucy walked over and helped her clean up. “I know. And I’m sorry I ruined our last lunch before school starts up again.”

  “It wasn’t all you,” she admitted. “I helped. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Grady. He’ll get over it. He—”

  “—always does,” Lucy finished with her, and they both smiled briefly. “I know. And I know you guys are only saying what you think I need to hear.” She paused then, knowing it was probably best to just leave it at that. She didn’t need her best friends’ permission to go to Glass Slipper, Inc. Or their blessing. But she couldn’t deny she’d feel a lot better about the whole thing if they at least saw her side of it.

  Looking for the right words, she finally paced to the front of the room and started shelving supplies again. “You know, it’s about more than the reunion. I’ve felt . . . I don’t know . . . unfinished for some time now. Like my outside doesn’t match my inside. Only I don’t know how to go about reconciling the two.”

  Lucy darted a glance at Jana, and relaxed a little when she saw her friend was paying attention and not chomping at the bit, waiting for the chance to leap to the defense of her opposing point of view. That was the downside of having a reporter for a best friend. They loved playing the role of devil’s advocate. Always made for the best stories, if not the most soothing or complacent friend. “I think getting the invite to the reunion and seeing that article at the same time was like some kind of—”

  Now Jana raised her palm. “If you use the words ‘fate,’ ‘sign,’ or ‘destiny,’ I’m going to be forced to hurt you.”

  Lucy smiled. Okay, so Jana was never going to be soothing or complacent. Honestly, she wouldn’t have it any other way. “Well, whatever you want to call it, it was what gave me enough of a nudge to take an active role in doing something about this . . . I don’t know, ennui.”

  “God, now you sound like the daughter of two English professors or something.”

  Lucy smiled again. “Imagine that.”

  Jana sighed and shoved off her desk, then slung her arms around Lucy’s shoulders for a quick, tight hug. “I want you to be happy with yourself,” she said. “I just wish you didn’t feel you had to try so hard.”

  Lucy stepped back. “It’s just a new hairstyle and some makeup tips, okay? If we hate it, you and Grady can both mock me for an entire Sunday afternoon after I get back. I’ll even provide the brownies.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Jana said, waving a finger.

  “I’m sure you will,” Lucy responded, relieved they were okay again. It wasn’t the acceptance she’d hoped for, but she’d take grudging support. And she knew Jana would get Grady to see her side, though he’d probably never admit it.

  “And if we unanimously agree you don’t look like you, then you won’t go to the reunion?”

  Lucy sighed. Close. “I’m not making
any promises there.” She held up her hand to stall Jana’s argument. “One step at a time. The reunion isn’t till the end of September. You and Grady will have plenty of time to devise all kinds of mental torture for after I get back.”

  Jana chewed her nail. “True. We could be so much better organized about it, too.”

  “Oh, great. Now I know what you two will be doing for your summer vacation.”

  Jana grinned. “Yeah. And our vacation won’t involve waxing or plucking or ripping anything out by its roots.”

  Lucy winced inwardly. She hadn’t thought about that part. “Yeah, well, I’ll be pampered and waited on hand and foot. And I bet my scenery will be better, too. Possibly buff, half naked, and tanned.”

  “So I’ll get Dave some spray-on stuff and hide his favorite shirt.”

  They both looked at each other for a second, then burst out laughing.

  “Okay, okay,” Jana said, hugging her one last time. “You win. I’ll reserve judgment until you get back.”

  “Thank you. That’s all I wanted.”

  Jana paused at the classroom door. “Can we at least mock you behind your back while you’re gone?”

  “Sure. Get it all out of your system.” She pointed a bottle of tempera at her. “Because you’re going to eat every one of your words, Ms. Reporter.” She grinned then. “And them’s a whole lot of words, so wear something baggy.”

  Jana’s laughter floated down the hall as the classroom door drifted shut behind her.

  Finally alone, Lucy wasn’t surprised to find herself fighting the encroaching fear that maybe, just maybe, Jana and Grady were right. (Waxing and plucking and ripping . . . oh, my!) But no. Now was not the time to buckle and cave. She was big on buckling and caving. Which was exactly what had led her to this point, right? She’d made the decision to do something about her growing self-discontent, and frivolous or not, the first step was going to Barbie Boot Camp.

  She had to start somewhere, after all.

  Lucy went back to stocking paint. She had to get the rest of this room in shape before the weekend. Because as of Saturday noon, she became the exclusive property of Glass Slipper, Inc. And for the next two weeks she would have her own personal fairy godmothers.