Free Some Like It Charming (A Temporary Engagement) by Megan Bryce Page B

“If you come back with a box of condoms, I’m going to strangle you.”
    Cassandra came back in. “I wish I’d thought of that. But no. Something even more practical.”
    She held up an elastic bodysuit. “Spanx. Every woman in L.A. owns a pair. They pass them out when you move in.” Cassandra dropped it into Mackenzie’s hands. “I don’t know how they missed you but trust me. Everything wears better over Spanx. And these pictures will be haunting you forever. I’ll get your outfit.”
    Mackenzie squeezed herself into the Spanx, ignoring with all her might the thought of being splashed on the front of every tabloid. The Enquirer had been bad enough.
    Cassandra handed her a slinky gray dress.
    Mackenzie took it reluctantly. “What’s this?”
    “It was in the bag you brought home.”
    “No, I got pants. Classic pants and a nice blouse.”
    “This was the only thing in the bag.”
    Mackenzie glared at the offending fabric. “Ellen.”
    “Ellen has good taste. Put it on.” Cassandra shut the door.
    Mackenzie shouted through the door, “I can’t wear this. He dates models.” She looked down at herself. “I will not compare well.”
    “La-la. Can’t hear you. Put it on and then we’ll see.”
    Mackenzie glared at herself in the mirror. Was this all worth a million dollars?
    No.
    But she threw the dress over her head anyway.
    She flung the door open without looking in the mirror.
    A slow smile spread across Cassandra’s face as she inspected Mackenzie. “So, this is what money can do. And you compare just fine.”
    “I’m too muscular for a dress like this.”
    Years of softball had left her with nicely toned arms and too-wide shoulders. She spent a lot of effort minimizing her upper body and this dress hugged her body, leaving her exposed and self-conscious.
    Cassandra shook her head. “No. You look fabulous. The Spanx is pushing everything up. This is what all the celebs do.”
    “I look like a football player.”
    “Trust me, you do not. And you know, you don’t look anything like a waify, breastless model either. What’s the opposite of frail?”
    “Substantial?” Mackenzie walked back into the bathroom to look at herself. “Sturdy? I look sturdy.”
    Cassandra made a face. “No. You look capable. Entirely capable of handling Ethan O’Connor.”
    “Oh, great. I look like a school mistress.”
    “The hottest school mistress I’ve ever seen. No one will doubt for a moment that you hooked Ethan Howell O’Connor.”
    “Give me some pants. I don’t want to look like a hot school mistress. I want to look like a serious, professional woman.”
    “Who happened to get her paws on Ethan O’Connor?”
    Mackenzie made a face. “It does seem a stretch. But maybe I can bring some much needed seriousness to his image. Instead of dragging mine through the mud.”
    “Go look in the full-length in my bedroom and then tell me you want pants.”
    Mackenzie made a beeline for the bedroom. Oh, she’d want pants alright. And a jacket. She would feel so much more comfortable in a nice jacket or blazer. Or shawl. Anything.
    Mackenzie found the full-length, adjusting it so could see herself from head to toe. She looked at the woman in the mirror and wanted to vomit. Cassandra was right, no one would be looking at her shoulders. This was what happened when a playboy got his mitts on you. You found yourself turned into a sex object.
    Her newly blond hair hung in waves past her shoulders, looking as if gravity didn’t exist anywhere near her head. Her Spanxed body was pinched and pushed up as far as it was physically possible in two very prominent areas. She turned to the side, inspecting her now extremely perky butt and dreamed about pinstripes and kitten heels.
    The only good thing that could be said about the dress was that her skin was at least covered. And it was a dark gray.
    And her strappy high heels were silver. She’d picked those out herself and they made her legs look longer. She twirled, the