Free Sleeping with Beauty by Donna Kauffman

first,
Lucy thought as she watched Vivian sashay back into the house. She’d pay big money to be able to sashay on four-inch heels, or sashay, period. But she was pretty sure that was an inborn trait.
    She looked back to the remaining two godmothers. And it hit her. She had, in fact, paid big money. Big to her meager savings account, anyway. But it was all relative, wasn’t it? She might not be the wife of some powerful Capitol Hill bigwig, but she deserved to get what she paid for. And if she had to sit through a grueling tea to get to the good part, well then, she was certainly made of stern-enough stuff, wasn’t she?
    She hadn’t survived the public school system for nothing.
    In a personal show of defiance, she placed her hands on the table.
Bring it on,
she thought rebelliously. Parochial schoolkids had nothing on her when it came to brazening her way through a bad situation.
    Pasting a brave smile on her face, she looked at both women and just put it out there. What the hell did she have to lose? It wasn’t like she’d wowed them thus far. “You’re right. I need more than makeup tips. There are a lot of things I want, more than we could possibly cover in two weeks. But most of all, I want to walk into my high school reunion and feel bulletproof. For that, I need help. A lot of it. I came here because you’re the best.” She lifted her palms. “So I’m putting myself in your hands. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
    Aurora beamed and Lucy thought she even spied a hint of grudging admiration in Mercedes’s expression. Or it could be she was just dizzy from trying not to hyperventilate.
    Both women stood. “Well, then,” Mercedes said, “no point in wasting any more time on pleasantries.”
    Lucy almost choked. This had been the pleasant part? She took a last fortifying sip of caffeine and stood. It cost her to resist the urge to present them with her wrists and ask them to take her to their leader. This was, after all, about as alien an experience as she was ever likely to have. But she didn’t think they had much use for her brand of humor. Or any humor, as far as she could tell.
    She followed Mercedes into the house and down another long hallway. They stopped in front of a matching walnut-and-stained-glass door. “Audrey is waiting,” she instructed. “You’ll work together to develop your regimen here. She’ll be here for you anytime of the day or night for the duration of your stay, should you have any questions or concerns. Of course, we’ll do our best to make ourselves available to you, as well.” She smiled tightly. Or maybe that was the only way she knew how to smile. “Welcome to Glass Slipper, Lucy.”
    Lucy nodded. “Thank you. And thank you for the tea, the personal meeting. I didn’t expect that.”
    The door opened and Vivian stepped out. “It’s our trademark,” she said. “We like to make each guest feel as if they are receiving one hundred percent of our attention.”
    She was certain they meant to make her feel coddled and special, but she was feeling self-conscious enough right then that she’d have gladly accepted, say, fifty percent of their attention. Or less. It wasn’t their fault. She just wasn’t used to this kind of beneficent scrutiny.
Bugs felt more secure under microscopes than she did at that moment.
    Mercedes and Vivian retreated down the hall, heads together, but Lucy couldn’t make out whatever they were whispering about. She had the distinct impression it was about her.
    Aurora put her hand on Lucy’s arm. “You’re going to be magnificent, you know,” she said gently. Her smile grew and the fairy-godmother twinkle returned to her eyes. “I always have a feeling for these things.”
    “Thank—thank you,” Lucy said, surprised to realize how badly she wanted to believe the older woman. Where was the cynic inside her when she needed her most?
    “Don’t worry so much. Trust us,” she said, as if she’d read Lucy’s thoughts. “You’re right.