was in bed, reading the breakfast menu conveniently printed on a cardboard tag you could hang on the outside doorknob. “I don’t think anything’s cheap about this place,” she said. “The continental breakfast is twenty bucks.”
“Well, I don’t think we’ll be getting room service,” said Lucy, stacking the suitcases in a corner. “There’s no place to put the tray.”
All too soon they were awakened by the shrill ringing of the phone. Lucy immediately panicked, thinking something terrible must have happened at home, but when she held the receiver to her ear and heard the automated voice, she realized it was only the wake-up call she’d ordered.
“Up and at ’em,” she said, shaking Elizabeth’s shoulder, and heading directly for the bathroom. “Today’s our first day of beauty.”
Lucy’s eyes were bleary from sleep, but from what she could see of her reflection in the bathroom mirror she was pretty sure the beauty experts had their work cut out for them. She quickly brushed her teeth, splashed some water on her face, added a dab of moisturizer, and grabbed her hairbrush. There was no time to spare; they were supposed to meet the other makeover winners in the hotel lobby at eight o’clock and it was already a quarter to.
“C’mon, Elizabeth. We’ve got to hurry.”
Elizabeth pulled the pillow over her head and rolled over.
Lucy picked up the pillow, and Elizabeth pulled the sheet over her face. Lucy threw the pillow at her, but she didn’t budge.
Lucy sighed and began brushing her hair. A hundred strokes later, Elizabeth’s breaths were regular and she’d settled into a deep sleep. Lucy sat down on the bed and dialed room service, ordering a pot of coffee for two at twelve dollars.
The caffeine did the trick and they were on their way by eight-thirty. They’d missed the rest of the group and the limo, but the doorman hailed a taxi for them.
“Better late than never,” said Lucy, looking on the bright side as they settled in for the short ride. “You’ll love Tavern on the Green. It’s beautiful.”
And indeed it was, when the taxi turned into Central Park and pulled up at the landmark restaurant. A light snow had started to fall, transforming the park into a magical fairyland, and the trees around the restaurant were outlined in tiny white lights. The inside was warm and welcoming, and they could hear the hum of voices as they checked their bags and coats and hurried off to the ladies’ room. Lucy wasn’t about to appear before this crowd without checking her hair and lipstick.
“Look,” said Elizabeth, pointing to a tray filled with bottles next to the sink. “It’s fancy perfume.”
Lucy recognized the distinctive bottle of her favorite, Pleasures, and gave herself a generous spritz, then they hurried out to claim their empty places. Lucy squared her shoulders, prepared to do battle for the ten thousand dollars, and followed the hostess to their table. Polite smiles were exchanged as Lucy and Elizabeth sat down and unfolded their cloth napkins, but all attention was on the speaker standing at the podium.
“That’s Camilla Keith, the editor,” whispered the woman next to Lucy, speaking with a Southern accent. “She’s just started speaking.”
Even Lucy had heard of Camilla; she was a legend in the magazine business, and her name was always popping up on tabloid-style TV shows, usually in connection with a lawsuit filed by a disgruntled household employee claiming verbal abuse or unpaid wages. Lucy studied her with interest; as editor-in-chief of the magazine her opinion would probably be decisive in choosing who would win the ten thousand dollars. Camilla was a very petite woman with dark hair pulled tightly back from her face, emphasizing her sharply defined cheekbones and chin. She was wearing a white tweed suit that Lucy suspected was a genuine Chanel, and her lips and fingernails were painted bright scarlet. Lucy knew that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, but she couldn’t for the life of her see how she could ever manage to look anything like the sleek and sophisticated Camilla.
“As editor of Jolie magazine, it is my pleasure to welcome our twelve winners to our fabulous Mother–Daughter Winter Makeover,” she said, giving the group at Lucy’s table a nod. “This is a very accomplished group—they had to be to attract the attention of our judges who chose them from more than forty thousand entries.”
A collective gasp arose from the crowd assembled in the restaurant, and Lucy wondered who all the people at the other tables were. Her question was answered as Camilla continued speaking.
“I would also like to welcome all of you who got up bright and early to join our winners today at our annual breakfast and fashion show supporting the Jolie Foundation, which you all know is a major contributor to the fight against AIDS and breast cancer.”
Lucy checked out the well-dressed ladies and wondered how much they had spent for tickets to the breakfast. These must be the “ladies who lunch” that she’d read about, she realized with surprise. Many of them were much younger than she expected, and she wondered what they did when they weren’t eating out at one benefit or another. She suspected their lives must be very different from hers. There was no going out in jeans and sweaters and duck boots for them—they had to keep up with fashion, and that would require lots of shopping. While Lucy could get away with splashing some water on her face and running a comb through her hair, these ladies’ polished appearances required hours in the salon, not to mention facials and exercise and waxing sessions. Probably even plastic surgery, she guessed, noticing several extremely tight faces.
Recalled from her reverie by a burst of polite laughter, she turned her attention back to Camilla. “Without further ado,” she was saying, “I would like to introduce our winners who have come from all over the country to be with us today.”
Lucy smiled at the others at the table, eager to learn more about them. She wondered if they were all as desperate to win the ten thousand dollars as she was.
“I’ll begin with our California girls, Ocean Blaustein and her mother, Serena Blaustein, from La Jolla,” said Camilla.
There was applause as the two stood. Ocean fulfilled the stereotype Lucy had come to expect from TV, with long blond hair and a tan, dressed in a tummy-baring top and hip-hugging jeans. Serena was a shorter, plumper version of her daughter, with curly red hair and wearing a colorful Mexican-inspired blouse and gathered skirt.
“Moving East, we come to the Great Plains and our winners from Omaha, Nebraska: Amanda McKee and her mother, Ginny McKee.”
Lucy smiled and joined in the applause as Amanda and Ginny got to their feet. Amanda was tall and willowy, dressed in a simple turtleneck sweater and skirt. Her mother was also tall and slim, and her red wool suit complemented her dark hair.
“We couldn’t ignore a state the size of Texas, so we have Tiffany Montgomery and her stepmom, Cathy Montgomery, from Dallas.”
Even if she hadn’t been told, Lucy would have guessed Tiffany and Cathy, who was sitting next to her, were from Texas. They were both wearing expensive-looking tweed jackets, they both had big hair, and they were wearing matching coral lipstick on their collagen-boosted lips. They also both appeared to be about the same age.
“The South is famous for its belles, and we have two lovely ladies from Wilmington, North Carolina: Faith Edwards and her mother, Lurleen Edwards.”
Lucy guessed that Faith took her religion seriously; she was wearing a gold cross on a chain over her flower-patterned dress. So
