women and we have two of those hardy souls with us today: Elizabeth Stone and her mother, Lucy Stone.”
Suddenly self-conscious in her best sweater and wool slacks, Lucy discovered there’s nothing like a pair of diamond earrings to give a woman confidence. She got to her feet and smiled at everyone, including Elizabeth, who was the very picture of urban sophistication with her shaggy haircut and black turtleneck dress.
“And last but not least we have two uptown girls from New York City: Carmela Rodriguez and her mother, Maria Rodriguez.”
The applause was loudest for Carmela and Maria, and Lucy felt a little surge of competitive spirit as she studied the two with their matching heads of thick, curly black hair. Carmela was dressed in a simple black pantsuit, with subtle make-up, but her mother was dressed in a form-fitting orange suit with a very short skirt and matching lipstick and nail polish.
Surveying the assembled group of makeover winners, Lucy wondered if they had really been chosen on the basis of the girls’ essays. She doubted that the staff had time to read forty thousand entries, and it seemed suspicious that each of the six mother–daughter pairs came from a different part of the country. As a reporter for the weekly newspaper in Tinker’s Cove, the Pennysaver, she knew that so-called contests were sometimes shams. Every year Ted, the editor and publisher, asked readers to vote for their favorite businesses in the “Best of Tinker’s Cove” contest, but the truth was that few people bothered to fill out the form and mail it in. The last “best pizza” winner received five votes, and the provider of the “best massage” only got one vote, from her mother. Nevertheless, all the winners got official certificates, which they proudly displayed in their places of business.
A sudden burst of laughter drew her attention back to the speaker, who was concluding her talk. “And now, I promise you, no more speeches,” said Camilla. “Breakfast will be served, and then we’ll show you fabulous fashions from the new spring collections.”
Camilla had no sooner left the podium than Lucy found a fruit cup set on her plate. “I hadn’t realized I was so hungry,” she said, picking up her spoon and surveying the competition.
Ginny McKee was the first to respond, speaking with a midwestern twang. “I noticed you were late—did you have a rough trip?”
“The snow was heavier in Maine,” said Lucy. “They had to clear the runway before we could take off.”
“You never know what will happen when you fly these days, do you?” offered Lurleen, taking her daughter’s hand. “We were praying the whole time we were in the air.”
Lurleen and Faith could be trouble, thought Lucy. She was itching to give them some fashion tips herself and she was sure the editors would relish the opportunity to transform these country bumpkins.
“I find a couple of those cute little bottles of scotch quite helpful myself,” said Cathy, with a throaty chuckle.
She had a breezy Texan confidence that Lucy found appealing, but she wondered how it would play with the editors. First impressions could be deceiving, but she had a feeling Cathy did exactly what she wanted. The giant diamond on her finger gave Lucy reason to hope she wasn’t particularly interested in competing for ten thousand dollars.
“None of that poison for me,” said Serena. “I always bring along a vitamin-packed wheat grass smoothie. I can give you the recipe if you want.”
“I’ll stick to scotch, thanks.” Cathy laughed, turning to Maria and Carmela. “You guys didn’t have to fly. How did you get here?”
Lucy studied the Rodriguezes with interest, trying to determine how much of a hometown advantage they had. Plenty, she decided, taking in Maria’s curves and Carmela’s dimples.
“The magazine sent a limo,” said Maria. “And I can tell you, it sure beats the subway!”
“The subway!” Lurleen was horrified. “You won’t get me down there, that’s for sure.”
“You’re so lucky to live in the city,” continued Cathy, ignoring Lurleen. “I come twice a year, but it’s not enough.”
“Do you come for the shopping or the shows?” asked Ginny, as the waiter refilled her coffee cup.
“Mostly the shopping,” offered Tiffany.
Cathy turned to her stepdaughter. “We love it all, don’t we, honey?”
“East or west, home is best, that’s what I always say,” said Lurleen, who was suspiciously poking at her salad with a fork. “What is this red stuff?”
“Pomegranate. It’s delicious,” said Cathy, rolling her eyes and turning to Maria. “Is it true the really hot new boutiques are all uptown? I’ve heard Soho’s over and Harlem’s where the action is these days.”
Lurleen began to choke, and Faith offered her a glass of water and patted her back.
“I know a few places,” said Maria, smiling broadly. “I could show you.”
“Deal,” said Cathy.
“Amanda didn’t tell me she’d entered this contest,” said Ginny. “I didn’t know a thing about it until the letter arrived. I almost threw it out; I thought it was a subscription offer.”
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t?” asked Amanda. “This is going to be fun.”
“And there’s the possibility of winning ten thousand dollars,” said Ocean. “If we win, Mom says I can buy a car.”
“If we win we’re going to donate the ten thousand dollars to our church,” said Lurleen. “That’s the main reason I came. I mean, if the good Lord presents you with an opportunity you can’t turn it down, can you? I just hope they don’t change my hair color; that’s something I don’t approve of. The good Lord knew what he was doing when he gave us our hair, and everything else, too. Like my mama used to tell me, ‘Just keep your face clean and your soul pure and your beauty will shine through.’”
Cathy shook her head in disbelief. “You’re in the wrong place then, honey. You should’ve stayed in South Carolina.”
“North Carolina.”
“Well, wherever you’re from, you’re in Camilla’s hands now. Around here she’s the boss, and you better do what she says. Her temper is a legend in the industry, believe me, I know. Back in the days before I met Tiffany’s wonderful father, Mr. Montgomery, I was a marketing executive at Neiman Marcus. I dealt with her quite a bit, and I soon learned that there was Camilla’s way or the highway. It didn’t matter that I was the customer, that I was putting up the money and buying the ads. Being the customer didn’t make me right, not with her anyway.”
Lurleen looked worried, and Lucy wondered if she’d only consented to the makeover to win the prize money for her church. Lucy understood her anxiety; she hoped the magazine’s experts wouldn’t make them look ridiculous. Not that she had any complaints so far. The fruit cup had been tasty, and the eggs Benedict was a delicious treat. She realized with a shock that she was enjoying herself, in the heart of New York City. Tinker’s Cove seemed very far away.
The waiters were clearing away the last of the dishes when the lights suddenly dimmed and strobe lights began flashing in time to loud techno music. It was the
