Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“She has a good arch to her eyebrows, but they’re buried beneath a layer of fur,” he continues. His hands settle on my shoulders. “Beautiful collarbone structure—ruined by a terrible drop to the cleavage line.”
“She’s not wearing the right size bra,” he announces. “You strike me as a 36C. What size do you have on?”
“38B.”
“No wonder they’re not standing at attention like they should be.” He sighs, deeply disappointed. “Why aren’t your ears pierced?”
“I never got around to it.”
“We’ll need to arrange for that.” He waves it off. “Do you have any tattoos? Tramp stamps?”
“One.”
Harrison arches a brow, visibly surprised.
“Where is the tattoo?”
“Somewhere you’ll never see it.”
“When you do her full body wax, let me know where the tattoo is,” he says, already turning back to his tablet. “Moving on to—”
“I don’t want to be waxed,” I say sharply. “Shaving is just fine.”
“It can’t be,” he scoffs, crouching to inspect my calves. “There are hints of stubble everywhere.”
“Harrison?” I look at him, holding in the scream building in my throat. “Can you please tell your friend that waxing won’t be happening?”
“Can you try not to make it painful for her?” he says instead, like this is a routine dental cleaning. “I’ll be back on Sunday.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re leaving—again?”
“I have another emergency client who needs me.” He pulls a gummy bear from his pocket and it lands in my mouth before I can object. “Do whatever needs to be done, Mr. Silo. Hope the extra day will help.”
“An extra month would help.”
“Make do with what you have.” Harrison walks out of the suite without a backward glance.
I stare after him, stunned. Then slowly turn to Frederick.
He claps his hands once. “Let’s start with the hardest part first,” he says, with theatrical delight.
Then he snaps his fingers.
“Someone get me some duct tape for her mouth…”
TWENTY-TWO
ELIZA
“Please, stopppp!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “I can’t breathe!”
“Impossible. You’re still talking.”
“Can we go a bit slower, please?” I beg. “This shit really hurts.”
“That’s how you know it’s working.” She pulls a wax strip off my leg.
Mid-groan, I feel her placing a warm strip against my pussy.
“No.” I sit up. “I’m not wearing anything that’ll show that. Wash it off now or I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
She gasps and rushes out of the room.
Grateful for a break from the torture, I sit up. My skin is red and blotchy all over, and I feel like shit.
Where is my phone?
As I’m rummaging through a stack of towels for it, Frederick clears his throat from behind me.
“One of my loves has told me that there’s a problem,” he says. “What’s going on?”
“I didn’t sign up to get my vagina waxed, so I’ll be skipping that part of the program.”
“Your vagina?” He walks around the table, and I don’t even bother to cover myself. “Is that what you said?”
“Yes. Va-gi-na.”
“I guess I’m shocked to hear you say that word, Miss Eliza, seeing as though that’s not a vagina between your legs. That’s an untamed bush that could set an entire forest on fire.”
I gasp.
“You will let us wax it, because if we don’t, it will look like you stuffed cotton balls in your panties whenever you wear tight dresses.”
Several hours later, I’m lying in my bed, but I’m not being allowed to sleep. My right hand is being buffed and scrubbed, while my left nails are being treated to UV rays under a machine.
The other minion is examining my legs and plucking any ingrown hairs that escaped the waxing process.
Mom definitely never told me about all this…
TWENTY THREE
HARRISON
Frederick
We need a few more extra days to work on your friend.
Why? She doesn’t need THAT much help…
Can we have the extra time or not?
Absolutely.
TWENTY-FOUR
ELIZA
The woman staring back at me in the mirror can’t be me.
She has the same emerald eyes and freckles, but her red hair is glossier and pulled into a curly updo. The cream-colored dress hugs her cleavage and waist, and lace falls from her hips in waves.
The sparkling silver Louboutins look like they were custom-made for her feet, and she looks like she knows how to walk in them.
“As of today, based on this miraculous transformation, I am hereby changing my name to Frederick the Christ!” Frederick lifts his hand. “Someone praise me.”
“You’re amazing, Frederick!”
“Wonderful, wonderful!”
“There is no one in this city like you.”
His minions nod.
“No one in this city?” Frederick adjusts one of my bobby pins. “Or no one on this earth?”
“No one on this earth,” they say in unison.
If he weren’t so obnoxious, I’d honestly agree with them.
“Walk around the room, Miss Unfortunate.” He claps his hands. “Allow me to admire my work and see if I need to make adjustments.”
I let his comment slide and walk toward the kitchen and back. He motions for me to do it again while he whispers notes.