Unleash Me, Vol. 2 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series)

by Ross, Christina

  “Well, if it’s going to be like that, perhaps we should turn down the lights and play Donna Summer’s ‘Love to Love You, Baby,’” he said. “That song got me laid throughout my entire youth. Not with women, of course. But with baskets full of men. You know how it is.”

  “Bernie!” Blackwell said.

  “Just playing along.” He looked at each of us. “You both look fabulous.”

  I winked at him. “I think I’ll look extra fabulous after you’ve had your way with me.”

  “Same here,” Jennifer echoed. “I haven’t had my hair properly done in weeks.”

  “I have just the magic to take care of that, Jennifer.”

  “You have the magic to fix anything, Bernie. Don’t you agree, Barbara?”

  “Of course I do. Look at me now—you think I made this happen on my own? Oh, how I wish. I know how to dress, but the rest of it—I know how to judge, but I don’t know how to do what Bernie does. There’s a difference. And look at what he’s done with both of you in the past—from pure ruin to pure beauty in less than an hour. All with a few clever clips and brush strokes. Bernie is our forever genius. Love, love, love to you, Bernie. That’s how I feel about you, my dear friend, who has saved my ass from the two potholes that I like to refer to as Jennifer and Lisa.”

  “Really?” Jennifer said.

  “Serious?” I countered.

  “You two are deluded if you think otherwise. Now, let’s get to it.”

  “Where is Iris?” I asked. “You said she’d be coming tonight.”

  “She is—she saw Bernie earlier today. He took that burning red bush of hers and, from what I hear, gave it a rather ruthless makeover—we might not even recognize her tonight! I also helped her out. I sent her a pretty Valentino dress because I refuse to be with someone for an entire evening if they insist on dressing like a man. Don’t you worry. We’ve taken care of Iris. She’ll meet us at the Frick at eight.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “I can’t wait to see what you both did to her.”

  “I don’t watch ‘The Miracle Worker’ every week for just any reason, Lisa. And neither does Bernie.”

  “You are a crippled human being,” I said to her.

  “Not so.”

  “Please. You’re filled with judgment.”

  “Maybe partly. But you love it. My judgment will only make you shine, so get over it and get in the chair—you’re first.”

  When I stepped into the chair, Blackwell naturally couldn’t help herself, so she stood just behind Bernie so she could monitor what he did to me.

  “My perfect little size zero,” she said. “Look at you. So pretty. So petite. So flat-chested and in need of a makeover. At the very least, Bernie will give you the latter. I’ll do my best to achieve the former. We can’t have you looking like one of your undead things.”

  “My undead peeps?” I said.

  “I don’t know what that means. What I do know is that you need some work if you’re going to knock them dead tonight.”

  “Dead…?” I said. “I can do dead.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We want you looking fresh and alive.”

  “Am I that bad?” I asked, looking at myself in the mirror. I turned my head from side to side, and as I did, my face fell. I was happy to be here now, but I had to admit that the stress of the past two days was starting to take its toll on me. I rarely looked as tired as I looked now. But I did. There was no denying it. I looked drawn.

  “You’re worse than bad,” Blackwell said. “Look at your pallor. You’ve practically become one of your characters.”

  “That’s a little harsh.”

  “It’s also the truth. Bernie, please get rid of the dark circles beneath her eyes, and for the love of God, give her a healthy glow, complete with a fresh flash of buoyant blonde hair. I have a feeling that she’s been working so hard to finish her novel—probably in sweats and a T-shirt, the thought of which makes me want to itch—that she’s almost undead herself. We need to spank this girl to life. We need to pinch her cheeks—all of them.” She paused for a moment, and then said to me, “That is, of course, if you still want to continue to capture Tank’s attention.”

  “Oh, I think I’ve captured that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You can’t handle it.”

  “I can handle anything.”

  We’ll see about that. “He’s asked me to move in with him.”

  “He’s what? When?”

  “Just the other day.”

  Blackwell looked offended. “Why haven’t you told me?”

  “Because I haven’t seen you. I’m seeing you now, and I’m telling you now. This isn’t exactly a conspiracy.”

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “I might.”

  “So, you’re a tramp.”

  “Oh, dear,” Bernie said.

  “A what?”

  “A tramp.”

  “After being exclusive for months with one man—and given how much I love him and how much I am committed to him—it hardly makes me a tramp if I choose to live with him.”

  “In whose generation?”

  “Probably not yours. But in my generation? It’s not a big deal.”

  “Then turn to your best friend here and behold her fine behavior. Jennifer has held out. She’s doing the right thing and waiting for marriage until living with Alex.”

  “Ummmm, yeah,” Jennifer said. “That might have changed.”

  Blackwell turned to her. “What are you talking about?”

  “If Lisa decides to move in with Tank, then I’m finally going to give in and move in with Alex as well because the idea of living alone isn’t at all appealing to me. Besides, Alex has been asking almost weekly at this point for me to move in with him. He’s relentless. I can’t ignore him forever. But it goes deeper than that. After our experience on the island and then in Singapore, I know that I wouldn’t mind living with him.”

  “I think I’ve lost my mind,” Blackwell said. “Imagine, Bernie. Moving in together so soon. What’s happened to the world? Don’t answer—I’ll tell you. It’s gone to hell. Where are my daughters? I need to talk to them now.”

  “Maybe you do,” I said. “And if they’re honest with you, ask them what they’d do in our situations. They love Tank. They love Alex. They’ve seen all of us together. I think we both know what they’d do.”

  “Don’t you dare bring my daughters into this.”

  “I believe you did that.” I looked at Bernie. “Anyway, enough of that. I haven’t even made up my mind about any of it yet. So, let’s just settle down and focus on the task at hand, which is bringing my tired old face back to the living. Bernie, please, I beg you—have at me.”

  * * *

  And he did. When he was finished, he stepped away from me with his arms held out at his sides. He studied my face and hair for a moment before saying, “Voila.”

  “Voila, indeed,” I said, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t look at all like I had an hour ago. My skin was bright and flawless, and he’d done my hair in a tight, elegant chignon. For drama, he went in for the kill with the bold red he’d applied to my lips, and also with the makeup he’d applied to my eyes, which now shimmered with darkness and light. It was an edgy look that made me feel like a different person. “I don’t know how you do it, but I’m glad that you can do it. I sure as hell couldn’t. You’re so gifted, Bernie. And I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

  “You’re a beautiful girl, Lisa.”

  “With your help, I can pass as one. And Barbara’s help, of course—even if she does think that I’m a tramp.”

  She came up behind me, put her hands on my shoulders, gave them a squeeze, and cocked her head to the side while she studied my hair and face. Then her gaze met mine. “Whatever you decide, you know I wish nothing but the best for you and Tank.”

  “What about Alex and me?” Jennifer asked.

  “I’m still processing that.”
>
  “So, I’m dying to see it,” I said to Blackwell. “What do you have planned for me to wear tonight?”

  “Something ethereal.”

  “If she gets ethereal, I get supernatural,” Jennifer said.

  “Just wait until you see what I have in store for you, Jennifer. But since Lisa is the first to dress, let’s see what she thinks.”

  She turned to the rack behind her and pulled out a gorgeous, light blue silk gown with a deep V-neck and a massive skirt peppered with crystal-embellished pleats.

  “Prada,” she said. “Because I know how much you live for Prada. It’s from their fall couture collection. Look at how the crystals are embedded along the pleats and how the dress moves in the air. It’s practically weightless. It’s daring and it makes a statement, and I know that you can pull it off, especially with your coloring. What do you think?”

  “I love it. But will it reveal too much? By the looks of it, my breasts barely will be covered.”

  “What breasts?”

  “When will you stop insulting me? I do have them.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I told you that Tank can motorboat me.”

  “Oh no you didn’t,” Jennifer said.

  “Oh yes I did—and he can. And he does.”

  “Enough!” Blackwell said.

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “I told you once that those were words I never wanted to hear again.”

  “That’s just because no one has ever motorboated you.”

  “You girls are going to be the end of me. All right—stand up. Let’s see how it fits. I have a tailor waiting outside should it need to be altered. Try it on.”

  I’d changed clothes so many times in front of them that I gave it no thought. When I slipped into the dress, it was clear that she’d nailed it once again.

  “Oh,” I said, as I turned in front of the full-length mirror to my right. “It’s exquisite. You’re right—look at the beading and how it catches the light. And how the dress flows when I move. It’s lovely, Barbara. It’s my favorite yet. Thank you so much. What do you two think?”

  “Brava,” Bernie said.

  “You’re a princess,” Jennifer said.

  “I’m undecided,” Blackwell said. “So, turn for me. That’s right. Keep turning. Slowly. Perfect fit. Turn. Yes. The plunge is just right, but because we don’t want one of your non-existent boobs to pop out, we’ll adhere the material to you just in case you lose the lottery and that somehow happens. And look at the length. Almost too long, but you haven’t tried on your shoes.” She reached around to the table beside her, and offered me a pair of Prada slingback heels that were the exact color of the dress. In fact, it appeared as if they had been made for the dress.

  I put them on, and then the look was complete. The length of the dress was perfect. The hair and makeup were sublime. Despite what I was going into, and all of the weight that was attached to it, I felt happy at that moment. And confident. I rarely felt that I looked pretty—but I did now. Just feeling that way was as rare as it was special. “It’s gorgeous,” I said.

  “I’m glad you like it—but I’m not finished.” She turned to the table behind her and removed from a black velvet box a gold and diamond headband.

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Oh, I’m very serious. This is what will get people talking—a true statement piece. Fred Leighton. Vintage. On loan, because I have it like that.” She handed it to Bernie, who admired it for a moment while I took my seat in front of the mirror. Then, he placed it on my head. The gold was a deeper shade than my hair, and there was no missing the diamonds—they were so large that they were bordering on the obnoxious.

  “So, apparently I really am a princess,” I said. “At least for tonight. I have some fashion sense, but nothing that matches this.” I looked at Blackwell and Bernie. “This is all about you two. Thank you.”

  “And you get to reap the rewards,” Blackwell teased. “So unfair. But I have to admit that, for you, this is the best one yet. Even the gays will love it, and that will cause an ecstatic rumble on the blogs. What’s most important is that this says you are serious about your work. This says that you’ve come to play ball, but not by being threatening or emasculating. And look,” Blackwell said to me as she turned to a table behind her. “A matching clutch. Here you are. See how small it is? And look at the color. Oh, stop with the tears. It’s made from the same light blue fabric as your dress. And don’t think I didn’t have to hustle for that to happen, because I did. But it’s all worth it. You’re chic in your couture. I have to say, doing this is one of the best parts of my day when it happens. I love it. And I love you, my darling.”

  “You’re a fashionista,” Bernie said to her.

  “Oh, not this again,” Jennifer said.

  Blackwell ignored her and pressed her hand to her heart as she looked at him. “I can feel the tug of that calling—it’s been there since I was a child, when I eschewed that awful Macy’s department store my mother favored for the Bloomingdales that was just down the street.”

  “How did you ever cope?” asked Bernie.

  “It was terrible, but I try not to analyze it. It’ll only make me hate my mother more than I already do.”

  “You have an eye that few can match.”

  “It’s been said before, but who am I to judge my own work?”

  “A true artist would.”

  “Do you think?”

  “I know. I’ve witnessed you in action. I’ve seen what you can do. And look at Lisa now—she’s a grateful, emotional wreck. All because of you.”

  “Mon Dieu. C'est mon destin.”

  * * *

  Later, after Bernie finished with Jennifer, he stepped away from her to evaluate his work. He had flat-ironed her hair so it hung straight down her back—which was her best look—and had done her makeup just as dramatically as mine, only with less of an edge. He carefully studied her, and then added a touch more lipstick, which was just a shade darker than mine before looking at her in the mirror.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Perfection,” she said. “You always come through, Bernie. Thank God for you. I mean that. I couldn’t do any of this on my own.”

  “Imagine what Bernie could do with Gollum,” I said.

  “With what?” Blackwell said.

  “Gollum.”

  “I don’t know who or what that is.”

  “It’s that creepy little slimy piece of evil that lurks around in the ‘Lord of the Rings’ and the ‘Hobbit’ movies.”

  Jennifer looked at me. “You think I look like Gollum with my makeup off?”

  “That’s not my point. My point is that if he can do this to us, just imagine what he could do—oh, never mind.”

  “Yes, let’s never mind,” Jennifer said with a faux, haughty expression that told me that she got my joke.

  Bernie gave Jennifer a kiss on each cheek and then turned to Blackwell. “She’s yours,” he said.

  “And she’s perfect. But so is this.” She held up a dress so deeply red and made of such clingy material that it was clear that it was meant to emphasize Jennifer’s coloring and bold curves.

  “Giambattista Valli Couture,” Blackwell said. “You’ll barely be able to move or breathe in it—not that I really care. Like eating, breathing is overrated—both just make you look bloated. Now, get dressed. Let’s see how it fits. Undergarments are on the table. Shoes are over here. So, dress. Let’s see. Naturally, I have a Plan B.”

  Without hesitation, Jennifer stripped out of her clothes and did just that. Blackwell helped her into her Spanx and then into her dress so her hair and makeup wouldn’t be ruined. When all was settled, Jennifer stood before the mirror to examine herself. At once, I thought she looked beyond beyond. She turned this way and that. She asked for a mirror, which Bernie handed to her, so she could see the back of her dress and hair. She was far more experienced at this than I was, and it was compelling to watch what
she had become since joining Wenn—a pure professional who, like Blackwell, missed nothing.

  “I think the lower back, just above my ass, needs to be brought in. Am I right?”

  “You are,” Blackwell said. “But fitting that ass of yours always is a challenge. Anything else?”

  “I don’t think so. What do you think?”

  “A nip and a tuck, and we’re good.”

  “Then bring in your man,” she said. “Let him nip and tuck. It won’t take long.”

  * * *

  When Jennifer’s dress had been properly tailored, she turned to me. “What do you think?”

  “Turn slowly. Let me drink it in. I don’t have Barbara’s eye.”

  “I should think not,” Blackwell said.

  “I’m asking for her opinion first,” Jennifer said. “Then I’ll ask for yours and Bernie’s, Barbara. Three sets of eyes are better than one.”

  “I’m Blackwell,” she said. “I have dozens of eyes. But let Lisa and Bernie have their say. Then I’ll have mine.”

  As she turned, I saw nothing but perfection. Her gown hugged her so tightly that it would have been a disaster if Jennifer wasn’t in such fantastic shape. But she was. Everything seemed to fit as if the dress had been made for her. But who knows if I was right. Who knew what Blackwell would say? Still, I gave Jennifer my honest opinion. “I think it’s smashing,” I said.

  “I agree,” Bernie said.

  “As do I,” Blackwell said. “It’s over the moon. So is her makeup and hair. Now, let’s get it together, ladies. Alex and Tank will be waiting for us on Alex’s floor. We’re five minutes shy of being late, so let’s get a move on. We don’t want to disappoint the boys.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN