“I’m so happy you’re here.” She releases me and peers over her shoulder. “Come on, Marco.”
“I’m coming, bitch,” he huffs. “Walking in four-inch heels isn’t easy.”
“You shouldn’t have worn those damn shoes,” Mia retorts.
“Quit your complaining. It’s important I look fab at all times.”
This is the infamous Marco. He and Mia became friends in high school. I’ve heard all about him but never had the pleasure of an introduction. The tall Italian wasn’t in town during my visit the previous summer. He’s positively marvelous in his silver sequined belly shirt, hot pink booty shorts, and matching pumps. Marco’s short hair mirrors all the colors of the rainbow, and his makeup is flawless.
“Happy born day,” he says jovially, giving me a hug.
“Thanks. It’s good to finally meet you.”
“Ditto, honey.” He steps back and peruses me from top to bottom, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Your makeover is going to beNext Top Modelworthy.”
“Makeover?” I ask, eyeing them warily.
“Relax, you’re overdue for a different look,” Mia says. “The upgraded Pepper debuts tonight.”
“What’s on the agenda?”
“Marco got us an eleven o’clock appointment at his sister’s salon for hair and nails. Then we’re shopping for the skankiest dresses ever designed and stripper stilettos. Lastly, I’m throwing you a pre-celebration party at my house before heading to the club. We’re painting the town red tonight, baby.”
“I’m in charge of makeup,” Marco chimes in. “I have the perfect color scheme in mind for your lovely complexion.”
I purse my lips together.
“Lose the sour face, Pepper. You were a bore last year and stayed in most nights. That’s not happening again.”
“I went out.”
“Yeah, to the flea market with my mom and grandmother. Thank heavens my parents and grandparents are on a cruise.”
Marco explodes into boisterous laughter.
“The bargains there were awesome. We should all go.”
“Bite your tongue,” Mia gasps.
“Is she joking?” Marco asks, perplexed.
“I’m afraid not.” Mia shakes her head. “Pepper, you’re a lost cause.”
“Darling, you’ll be solo on that excursion,” Marco says.
“Okay, people, we need to hustle. Breakfast, then off to be glamorized.”
“Great, I’m starving,” I say.
We settle into Marco’s SUV and head to our first destination.
I’m exhausted after waking at the crack of dawn and spending the earlier part of today in transformation. The end result was worth the hassle. I regard the new me in the full-length mirror in the guest bedroom. I’m unrecognizable. A tiara graces the top of my head. My usual curly hair is straight for the first time in my life. The silken strands flow to the middle of my back. I absolutely love the bangs the stylist cut. The black strapless latex mini dress emphasizes my womanly assets. A “Happy Birthday” sash lies across my torso. Underneath the skimpy attire is a flimsy thong. Transparent platform heels complete the ensemble. Marco is an exemplary makeup artist. Foundation, concealer, eyeshadow, blush, eyeliner, and mascara contour my appearance. The shimmery silver hue Marco applied on my eyelids and the bright red lipstick really draw attention. I regard my long coffin-shaped acrylic nails. Completing the simplest chore is daunting with these things.
“Done ogling yourself?” Mia asks, leaning on the doorjamb.
She looks incredible in a white lace corset top, short turquoise skater skirt, and shoes similar to my own. Her long locks were cut and styled into a bob.
“I can’t believe this is me.”
