Sleeping with Beauty (13 page)

“We’ll get to that. But we haven’t much time here. I thought it best to start right off with something that would alter your very state of being.”

“Plucking me bald will do that?”

“Darling, nicely shaped eyebrows are important, but when you’re walking down the street, you don’t feel them, so you don’t really feel the difference. You know they’re there, but it’s a rather detached appreciation. With this, every single step you take, you will feel differently about yourself, about your body. You’ll feel voluptuous, sensual. Ripe.”

Considering the pain radiating from every single violated pore, it was more than a little disconcerting to feel a sort of stirring sensation. Down there. Vivian spoke with the kind of conviction that only a woman who’s walked the same path could possibly have. Lucy tilted her head back. “‘Ripe,’ huh?”

Vivian’s smile widened further, but her thoughts had seemed to turn inward as she took a deep, appreciative breath that threatened to strain her well-strapped-in bosom. “You’ll see.”

Lucy was still contemplating Vivian’s promised rewards when the sadist patted her on the knee and announced, “It is done. In a few days, when you have sufficient growth, we’ll do your legs.”

“Oh, goody,” Lucy muttered.

“I’m going to step out and take care of some other business,” Vivian told her. “Sue, you can handle things from here.”

“Wait—” Lucy said, lifting her head, but Vivian had already left. Lucy looked warily back at Sue, wishing now she’d been a little nicer to her. “Listen, if you’ll just let me leave now, I swear I won’t say a word. You can get some time off, and I can go have a nice soak in the tub. In my room.” Alone. This had all been a shock to her system in more ways than one.

Sue gave her the standard Glass Slipper Stepford smile. “You’ve made it through the hard part. Now comes the nice part. Close your eyes. Lie back. Relax. No more pain. I promise.”

Lucy stared at her for another moment longer, trying to deduce Sue’s exact intent. After all, she was lying on a padded table, naked except for the folded sheet draped discreetly across her torso. Up until right now, she’d felt more like an assembly-line part than a woman. But something about the way Sue was smiling at her had her wondering. “What exactly does come next?”

“Close your eyes. I’m going to dim the lights down now.”

Lucy complied, but her eyes flew back open on that last part. “Excuse me?”

Sue’s smile might have become a tad more pronounced, but she maintained the Glass Slipper status quo and managed not to laugh directly at Lucy’s less-than-worldly reaction. “It’s okay,” she assured her. “I’m just going to make the pain go away. I promise. Now close your eyes.”

Still wary, Lucy closed her eyes, but secretly she tensed her muscles, ready to leap off the table like a well-oiled spring if Sue so much as breathed on her in a way that could be even loosely interpreted as sexual. Okay, who was she kidding. “Well-oiled spring” was probably overstating her abilities. She’d likely drag the table over, splattering hot wax all over the walls and floor, before tripping over the neat stack of towels and linens on the low side table, landing in a sticky heap somewhere over by the door.

Besides, when you thought about it, Sue had already performed acts on her that were all kinds of socially unacceptable.

Exhausted by the whole process, both mentally and physically, she just let it go. What the hell. Pleasure was pleasure, right? Considering her love life of late, she could hardly afford to discriminate. Who knows, maybe she’d even learn something new.

The light through her eyelids dimmed. And the soft sounds of running water, like a fountain or a waterfall, filled the room. A moment later she was gasping in absolute pleasure. “God, that feels amazing.”

“Just lie still,” Sue said softly, perhaps the barest hint of smugness in her tone.

That was totally okay. Lucy didn’t mind. The wet, warm, and very soft towel she’d just had draped between her legs felt so good against her freshly abused skin that she didn’t care if Sue stripped naked and danced around the room like some kind of a forest sprite. Ripe and sensual, huh? Yeah, baby!

“Now we work on smoothing the rest of your skin.”

Lucy managed enough alarm, despite the languor swiftly spreading through her body, to crack one eye open. “Beg pardon?”

Sue moved behind her head. “Full massage. Then facial. Manicure and pedicure come next.”

Lucy sighed and let herself completely relax for the first time. “Now
that’s
what I’m talking about.”
Jana and Grady, eat your heart out.

D
o you feel this is necessary, Vivi?” Aurora slid off her tiny, gold-framed bifocals and let them dangle from the long beaded chain around her neck. One of many. She put down the folder of papers she’d been studying and gave her partner her full attention. “It’s not standard protocol.”

“Says the woman who sat in for Phoebe’s initial interview.” Vivian waved off Aurora’s defense, causing the lamp lighting to bounce off the multiple gemstones adorning her hands. “Since when do we place store by standard protocol? We didn’t get where we are today by not following our instincts. That’s all I’m doing.” Under Aurora’s studied gaze, Vivian examined her nails, noticing that the diamond in her right pinky was situated slightly lower than the one in her left. “Consider it my pet project.”

Mercedes signed several documents, then sighed as she closed another file and handed it off to Aurora. “Vivian, we’re in the middle of negotiations with a new distributor for the magazine, and we have yet to firm up our somewhat extensive travel plans for our overseas trip. It’s one thing for Aurora to step in and help out in a staffing emergency, quite another to take on a client’s entire program.”

“I don’t believe I’ve dropped the ball anywhere, Mercy,” Vivian said, rising to her own defense now. “Are you intimating otherwise?”

If Mercedes was surprised by the edge to Vivian’s tone, she didn’t comment. Which was just as well, because it wasn’t until she’d had to defend her position on this that Vivian truly realized how important working with Lucy had become to her.

“I’m merely saying that this is why we hire the best personnel,” Mercedes went on. “Certainly we have the appropriate staff to handle this particular client.”

“Yes, of course we do. I simply happen to feel Lucy will benefit more from some direct attention.”

“Honestly, Vivian, must you complicate matters by—” Mercedes broke off, massaged the bridge of her nose. “What am I saying, of course you must. It’s like a disease with you.”

Vivian’s smile didn’t so much as waver. “Much like micromanaging is an addiction for you, Mercy darling.”

Never one to tolerate the least hint of tension, Aurora’s hands fluttered as she shushed them both. “Come now, surely we can all discuss business without being snarky.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow in Aurora’s direction. “Watching
Saturday Night Live
again, are we?”

She merely sniffed. “MTV. One must remain current. And don’t tell me you weren’t glued to the set watching that nice young man, what was his name? Bad Mo Z? Z Dog? I can’t keep them straight.”

“Being the rap afficionado that you are and all,” Vivian murmured, ignoring Mercedes when she motioned her quiet.

“I happen to like music with a distinctive bass line,” Aurora said. “I don’t quite understand the fashion statement they’re making by allowing their briefs to show above the waistband of their trousers, however.” Her brow crinkled. “And perhaps they are a little heavy-handed with the jewelry, but—”

“Bling-bling,” Vivian supplied.

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. Can we move on to the next order of business?”

Aurora looked nonplussed for a moment, then pointed a heavily ringed finger in her direction. “You’ve gone and distracted me from the point I was making, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Of course not,” Vivian deadpanned. “Nothing gets by you.”

Aurora huffed a little. Mercedes merely lifted her gaze to the ceiling.

Ever the mediator, Aurora gentled her tone. “You know I adore Lucy, too, Vivi. There is something endearing about her. We’re just concerned, Mercy and I, that this distraction will prevent you from focusing your attention on these other, more pressing matters.” She slid her glasses on again and opened the next file.

Vivian tapped the gold-tipped end of her slender cigarette holder against the arm of her chair, wishing like mad she hadn’t given up smoking. Truth was, it had been harder to give up what she’d always referred to as her “tiny little social habit” than she’d expected. And she’d die before admitting as much to these two. In addition to other things, Lucy Harper had been a welcome distraction from nicotine withdrawal.

Of course, her interest was far more complicated than that. She’d dealt with her share of wallflowers before, but there was something about Lucy that called to her specifically. She didn’t have to dig too deep to understand what that was. Vivian hadn’t always been the maven of fashion she was today, the former dresser to the stars whose every stylish whim had become an instant trend; adopted, copied, and relentlessly covered in every major magazine during the sixties and seventies. Until the nightmare that was disco erupted, anyway. The thought of all that polyester still made her shudder.

Long before all that, she’d just been chubby little Vivian from Chelsea. Like Lucy, she’d been teased relentlessly by her classmates. Nor was “graceful” the adjective anyone ever associated with her as a child. Vivian had long since packed away the memories of her less-than-lovely youth. Then Lucy had tripped on the walkway, making the kind of embarrassing entrance only the child Vivian had been could truly appreciate, and
bam!
, all those memories had rushed to the surface.

But the connection went further than that. What the girl lacked in style and grace, she more than made up for with grit and determination. Vivian distinctly remembered her own stubborn refusal to cave to the greater force of peer pressure. She’d defiantly worn her beloved rhinestone-studded, bright blue cat’s eye glasses to school every single day, even knowing it would earn her nothing more than being ostracized and ridiculed by every table in the lunchroom.

Whereas Lucy had been teased for her gawky, gangly height, Vivian had been a short, stout fireplug of a girl, with an unfortunately pronounced Roman nose and as questionable a taste in fashion as she’d had in eyewear. But though she’d cried buckets of tears in private, in public she’d refused to let the bastards see how much their torment hurt. In the end, with gritted perseverance, a lot of hard work, and a little luck (and the help of a lovely plastic surgeon in Tribeca), she’d shown them all, hadn’t she?

Lucy Harper had shown the same defiance, in her own way, but she’d never truly broken out of her shell. Nevertheless, beneath it all, she still harbored the belief that she was more than she appeared. It may have taken her a bit longer to validate that feeling than it should have, but she’d done so. And despite the complete lack of support she’d received for this epiphany, she’d acted on it anyway by coming here. Vivian understood the strength that had taken in a way very few others would realize. And she felt an obligation that was inherently personal to not let Lucy Harper down.

“I’ll handle it, darlings,” she said quietly, her tone not inviting a response. “Next on the agenda?”

Aurora and Mercedes both glanced up, but after taking note of the finality of her expression, they turned once again back to business. There was a small, but telltale smile hovering around Aurora’s mouth, and Vivian realized she had her partner’s full approval and all of that had been for Mercy’s benefit. Of course, she’d never let Aurora know how much she appreciated it. Nor would Aurora thank her for taking on the task itself.

Inwardly, Vivian smiled and allowed the anticipation inside her to swell. Lucy Harper knew she had potential, but she had no idea the real strength of it. Vivian did. And she couldn’t wait to unleash it.

This,
she thought, tapping a rapid staccato with her cigarette holder as the thoughts and ideas began to tumble about and take shape,
could be the most fun I’ve had in years.