F.M.P. Society

by Dakota Cassidy

  Cara yanked her head away. “Does part of rocking my world consist of a haircut? Cause I just want to tell you right now. Nobody cuts my hair.”

  “Well, that’s obvious darling,” Simone pointed out. “Just a trim to start maybe. It looks like your upper lip is in pretty good shape. Thank goodness. I can’t tell you the hell I go through—”

  “Simone,” Katia groaned. “Give the girl a break, okay?” Turning to Cara she smiled. “Yes, we are your fairy godmothers. We’re here to help you realize your potential. In time, you’ll thank us,” Katia stated plainly, with a wink of one gorgeous eye.

  “My potential? What kind of potential are we talking about? If we’re talking about your particular brand of potential, you can forget it. There’s no way I can reach that kind of potential in this millennium.” Cara shook her head. “So thanks for the offer, I’m sure some other lucky girl with potential needs you more than I do. You can go now. I’m good.”

  The three women smiled at each other knowingly. “Well, darling, you can’t be that good if you lust for a man who doesn’t even know you’re alive, now can you?” Amazon woman number one drawled.

  Cara’s face turned red. How the hell could they know about Alexander?

  “We know everything, pumpkin…And that’s why we’re here. This Alexander won’t know what hit him when we’re done.”

  Oh hell, they did know. Could she have Alexander with the help of these women? Omigod.

  * * * * *

  Cara stood before her full-length mirror and shivered. She’d been showered, plucked, and plucked again for good measure and she still wasn’t sure how it all happened.

  It hadn’t taken much to convince her that these women could help her snare Alex. How pitiful was that? She’d gone right along with this because she was damn desperate to have Alex. If this was all her mind working overtime, then so be it. Let your imagination soar was her theory, or let the nice men with white coats come and take you away with the butterfly net. Either way she was willing to take the risk. She was tired of being alone and even more tired of wanting someone she couldn’t have. Maybe, with the help of these three women, she wouldn’t be alone for long.

  Now, with only a towel draped around her body, she waited for the next round of primping. This was insane. She was insane to believe these women could help her. The mere mention of Alexander’s name and she was all ears, ready to believe just about anything.

  Pitiful. Pathetic.

  Fairy godmothers. No such things.

  Then how did they appear right before your very eyes, without warning? Where did they come from? Why couldn’t they just wave their magic wands, make her beautiful and call it a day?

  Simone came up behind her and put her slender hands on Cara’s shoulders.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Why don’t we wave our magic wands and poof you’re fabulous?” Cara smiled hesitantly at her from the reflection in the mirror and nodded her head.

  “Well, darling, it’s all about magic and levels of magic. Or some such nonsense. We haven’t attained those levels yet, so the magic wand works for some things and not for others. We have to work at it just like everyone else. We each have our specialties so no worries. Mine is waxing.”

  Cara winced at that. Oh yes, waxing was Simone’s specialty all right. Her legs, now a tingling mass of nerves, could attest to that.

  “You have a magic wand? Like seriously?”

  Simone smiled that lazy, sensuous smile, just a slight tilt upward of her luscious lips. “Oh, yeah, sweetie, we all do. They just don’t have full power yet. It takes time to become a full-fledged fairy godmother.” Simone gave her shoulders a squeeze and went off to the bathroom, probably to gather more devices to torture her with.

  Cara assessed herself in the mirror. Okay, so for sure she wasn’t a tall lanky supermodel. She felt a pang of envy over all those long limbs and that L’Oreal hair. She bit her lip. If one were brutally honest, she was short and fuller figured. But still firm in almost all of the right places. Cara squared her shoulders and sucked in her belly. She let out a whoosh of air.

  This was ridiculous. There was no way Alexander Mackenzie was going to be interested in her. No matter how much waxing, poking, highlighting, and makeup these crazy women conjured up. Magic wand or not. What she needed was a magic light saber so she’d have The Force with her or something.

  “That’s just not true.” Mia sat at the edge of Cara’s bed, folding her long legs beneath her.

  “Can fairy godmothers read minds too?” Cara heard the edge of sarcasm in her tone, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “No, honeybunch, I can’t read your mind, but every new subject has the same doubts, the same worries. It’s normal, we expect it. Look at yourself, Cara. You’re a pretty girl, you just have to let yourself be pretty. Think, of like, all the people in the cafeteria who know you and look forward to seeing you everyday. It isn’t just what you look like on the outside, but what you are on the inside.”

  Oh, jeez, this fabulously perfect woman sounded like one of those shrinks on a talk show. “Realize your inner beauty” and all that jazz. Only the pretty girls said that. She realized a long time ago that inner beauty counted for nada. When a guy checked her out he wasn’t checking out her heart, that was for sure. He was checking out her cup size. Whether her ass had gone south or if it was still perky.

  She took a good, long look at her cup size. She was average at best, and her ass had gone south, or at least covered a good portion of the tri-state area. She sighed.

  “Now look,” Mia said with a smile, “Didn’t I say you have fabulous hair? Well I wasn’t kidding. All we need is a bit of a trim, maybe an added highlight or two and you are like, so there.” Mia took Cara by the hand and led her off to the bathroom again, sitting her on the toilet seat. She grabbed a bag and pulled out a cape and some smelly stuff in a bottle.

  “Okay, so why don’t you girls tell me exactly how you became fairy godmothers.” Cara heard one of them suck in a gulp of air. Mia tugged on a long lock of her hair.

  “Ouch! That hurts,” Cara yelped.

  “Sorry, punkin’,” Leaning in close to Cara’s ear she whispered. “Could we wait on the explanation for that? It gets like soooo intense between Katia and Simone.”

  “Sure,” she agreed. “Well, then what about this name of yours the F…XYZ club, was it?”

  “No, darling, it’s the F.M.P. Society. Say it out loud. It rhymes, ya know.” Mia giggled. “We sorta made it up when we became fairy godmothers.”

  Um, okay, “And what does it mean, Mia?” Cara watched with unease, as chunks of her hair fell to the bathroom floor. Oh, crap, she would be bald at this rate.

  “It stands for fuck me pumps. F.M.P., see?” This she said as the snip-snip of those very scary scissors followed.

  Speak slowly to the fabulous one. “Fuck me pumps?” Inquiring minds want to know.

  “Yeah, you know. The shoes that you wear when you wanna get laid? They’re called fuck me pumps. It’s sounds so—crass. Believe me, I know, but there it is.” Mia seemed to have the impression she made sense.

  “And how does this figure into my situation?” Cara was beginning to think that maybe these gorgeous broads really had escaped the looney bin.

  Mia tilted her head back, still tugging at stray tendrils of hair. Katia stood in the doorway. Tall and slender, her miniskirt hugged her smooth thighs. She held something in her hand. Cara brushed the hair from her eyes.

  “These are why we’re called the F.M.P. Society.” A pair of bright red shoes dangled from Katia’s perfectly manicured nail by thin straps.

  Ah hah, these must be the fuck me pumps…Well, Hell’s bells.

  Chapter 2

  Um, alrighty then. Fuck me pumps. Hookay, this was all going to go away once she woke up. Cara scrunched her eyes shut then opened them again. Nah, they weren’t going away. And this wasn’t a dream. She cringed at the tug of her hair as Mia snipped and highlighted. Katia still stood in the
doorway, with those shoes dangling from her fingers and The BEAST had now found a new set of legs to wind himself around. A very perfect set of legs.

  Stupid, traitorous, cat.

  Katia sat on her haunches and scratched The BEAST’S ears. His purr of satisfaction made Cara that much more aware of this ridiculous scenario. The BEAST rubbed his chin on the pretty red shoes. Maybe if she just went along with the theory of this being a dream, when she woke up tomorrow she could have a good laugh and forget it ever happened. Play nice with the Barbie knockoffs, Cara, they’re harmless.

  “Okay, Katia, tell me about the shoes.”

  Katia grinned and launched into an explanation. “Well, it’s like this. When you put on these shoes, they transform. So like, say you’re on a trip, right? And you pack a fabulous Calvin Klein outfit for the evening and then want to wear like jeans during the day. All you have to do is bring these shoes and presto! They instantly transform to match whatever you’re wearing. Isn’t that just to die for?” Katia squealed with excitement.

  “So I can wear these shoes with anything, and they match whatever I put on? But what’s the big deal about that?” Cara’s bullshit radar kicked into overdrive.

  “Yup,” Mia chimed in to agree with Katia. “That’s why they’re so fabulous, silly. The big deal is they’re going to help you snag your man. Now hold still while I blow dry.” Mia took out a big round brush and began wrapping Cara’s thick hair around it in sections.

  The hum of the blow dryer gave Cara a minute to gather her thoughts. So, the shoes changed to match what she wore. And this would help get Alexander’s attention how? She was beginning to get the distinct impression she’d been gypped in the fairy godmother department. I want a refund. Where did one go for a refund on their fairy godmother? Point me in the direction of the courtesy counter in magic-ville, please.

  “Okay, sweetums, all done.” Cara began to rise from her porcelain seat but Mia plunked her firmly back in place. “No, honey, we’re not done just yet. Kaaaattttiiiiaaaa,” Mia screeched. “Get in here, it’s your turn.” One last fluff of Cara’s hair and Mia was sliding past Katia, out of the bathroom. Cara watched her leave as Katia plopped a big, gold bag down on the edge of the sink. The bag of tricks no doubt. Better be some damn fine tricks in there.

  “Oh, darling, you have the most beautiful skin. All peachy and your eyes are the most fabu shade of blue-green. Now with all of this glorious hair we’ll want to highlight those features. I’m going to teach you a technique or two and with a couple of extra minutes in the morning you’ll be so incredible, this Alexander won’t know what hit him.”

  Katia obviously got off on this makeup thing. Cara wanted to confide in her that she’d tried every brand of makeup known to the free world and it still looked like someone had soundly slapped her across the cheeks and glued her eyes shut. Cara exhaled slowly as Katia dusted something over her nose.

  “You, my pretty, are an autumn,” Katia shared, as if imparting some great wisdom.

  Now I’m a season. What if I want to be summer? Ooooh, maybe spring?

  Autumn was nice. Pretty leaves, crisp cool air. Pumpkins, Halloween. “What the hell does an autumn mean?”

  Katia giggled. Damn, these women giggled a lot. “It means those are the shades best suited for your coloring. So think browns and gold, maybe a bit of green thrown in.”

  Oh, okay. Cool. Autumn. I am an Autumn…I am insane.

  “So let me get this straight. These shoes will help me get Alexander’s attention how?” Cara’s eyes widened as Katia gripped a pair of tweezers.

  “When you put those shoes on there won’t be a man around who can resist you, honey. I’ve seen it happen time and again. Believe me, by this time tomorrow Alexander will be putty.”

  Putty was good. In lust was better.

  “Make an O for me with your lips, Cara.” Cara dutifully formed the letter O with her mouth. “Oh, I knew this would be the perfect shade for you. Now I want you to repeat after me. Line, color, blend, blot. First, we line your lips and then we add the color, blend together and blot. K?”

  “Line, color, blend, blot,” Cara repeated around the tube of lipstick.

  “Good, all done.” Katia began to put away the brushes and liners.

  “That’s it?”

  “Sweetie pie, I told you, you only need a little bit to make an impact. Less is more, darling. Now come see.” Katia led Cara out into her bedroom where Glamazons one and two sat on her bed, each perfect body curled in a corner. Mia reached over and squeezed Simone’s hand. “Oh, Cara! Look at you! Like, would you just look at how beautiful you are?”

  Oh, yeah, compared to the fabulous triplets Cara was sure she fell into the beautiful category. For crap’s sake, there was just no way she could top these three not even if Vidal Sasoon himself…Cara’s thoughts trailed off as she caught the first glimpse of the “new” Cara in the full length mirror. She felt her legs wobble.

  Holy makeover!

  “I…I can’t believe…”

  Katia rearranged Cara’s hair, letting it fall to her shoulders in thick clouds of highlighted gold. The deep amber, now softened with color in all the right places, framed her face gently. Cara’s hand trembled as she ran her fingers through it. It was so smooth and glossy. She touched her lips with a finger. They looked slick and full, and her eyes… Oh my God, they jumped out at her. The blue-green was a startling contrast to her peach-blushed skin. Her lashes weren’t clumps of goop, but swept upward in a graceful arc. Cara grabbed at the towel she still had wrapped around her body to stop her hands from shaking.

  “I don’t know what to…” Cara fumbled over her words.

  “The look on your face is all the thanks we need, lamb chop. Right, girls?” Mia and Simone smiled fondly at her.

  “But what if I can’t do this tomorrow? I mean, I’ve never been very good at this stuff and I have to wear a uniform at work. Plus the hair net…so he won’t even see my hair.” Cara began to pace the length of the bedroom holding the towel at her breasts. “I’ll look just like I do every single day and he’ll ignore me just like he does every single day.”

  Her voice rose as panic began to gnaw at her gut. “He’ll never notice me and this will all have been for nothing. Don’t you see? I’m not the kind of girl Alexander Mackenzie is interested in. What was I thinking? He owns a company, for crap’s sake. I work in a cafeteria.” Oh, shit she was whining now. Like a big baby. Damn, she’d been so close to believing she might actually stand a chance. Cara plopped down on the bed between Simone and Mia in defeat.

  “Stop this right now, Cara.” Katia ordered sharply. “Now listen to me. Do you really want a man who loves you only for the way you look?”

  Um, yeah.

  Cara frowned at her. “Listen, Miss America, that’s easy for you to say. You’re beautiful. Pretty girls don’t need to work in cafeterias.”

  Katia wrinkled her nose at Cara. “Maybe not, and I’ll thank you not to call me names. But I still wouldn’t want a man who only wanted me for the way I looked.” Katia folded her arms over her chest in defiance.

  If only she could see the irony in that statement. Of course men wanted her for the way she looked. It was what made them want her in the first place. Just the head start she needed to be noticed. Jeez. It wasn’t for the brain cell they shared amongst them that was for sure.

  That was uncalled for, Cara Anthony.

  Good hell, they were like every average woman’s assumption. Vain, vapid, shallow and really trying to help her the best way they knew how. So shut up, Cara, and stop being so damn catty.

  “So why don’t you explain to me how I’m supposed to get him to notice me if I don’t look any different than I did yesterday?”

  Mia reached behind her and held up the shoes.

  Oh, those shoes.

  “With these, cookie, you’ll see. When you put them on everything will change…”

  Chapter 3

  And change they did, Cara mused as she patted a
bit more of the powder over her nose, just like Katia had so painstakingly taught her. Tucking her newly highlighted tresses under her hair net, she took one last glimpse at her image in the mirror. Well, she would admit she had a glow about her today that didn’t exist before meeting the Amazon tribe of triplets. And people were noticing her. She’d caught Mr. Andrews gazing longingly at her boobs. When she’d asked the girls how long she could keep the shoes, they had been evasive. For as long as you need them, was the answer she’d gotten.

  Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, honey.

  Cara glanced down at her perky boobs. Yup, those push up bras really did work. Harvey from the dot-com company on the sixth floor had to be told to put his tongue back in his head. Cara giggled to herself. The real test was yet to come. Alexander hadn’t come in for breakfast. So bring on the next meal, she thought with shaky confidence.

  Bring it on.

  * * * * *

  Ruby whistled loudly at her as Cara made her way back from the bathroom. “Girl, I dunno what you did last night but you sure look fine. You go and get one of those makeovers?”

  Cara smiled at her. “Sorta, I guess, it’s a little hard to explain. You like?” Cara twirled in front of Ruby. Seeing her co-workers’ reaction this morning had been worth all the poking and prodding of last night.

  “Well, honey, it don’t matter if I like, but I’ll tell ya about a few men round this joint who most definitely do like. Mmm, girl, they’re gonna be fightin’ to get at ya. I always knew you were a pretty girl, but to look at ya now. You just glow.”

  Cara winked at Ruby. “Thanks Ruby, I feel pretty good too.”

  “You know that Gordon from the eighth floor was sniffin’ around here earlier. Lookin’ to see if he could get your number. I told him you were busy.” Ruby snorted.

  “Gordon? Really? Holy cow, Rube. He’s way out of my league.”