Chapter 2

She nodded her approval. “But we’re changing your wardrobe for sure.”

“Wardrobe?” I arched a brow.

“Your clothes.Seriously the graphic T-shirts that are about three times too big for you have got to go. And those baggy jeans. No one can see your cute ass in those.”

“I don’t have a cute ass.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let me see you naked.”

“What? You’re nuts. I’m not taking my clothes off for you.”

She pouted. “Come on, it’s for the makeover. I have to see what I’m working with.”

“Fuck you, Ruby.”

“You are such a punk.” She went back to painting her nails. “You need to start lifting weights.”

My stomach twisted at all these changes. Was I really that bad? “Weights, too?”

“Landers, you are really skinny. You need to build some muscle or something. No hunk is going to want a guy with arms the size of rubber bands.”

“Rubber bands?” Now I was affronted. I didn’t exactly have beefcake arms but they were hardly as thin as rubber bands.

“Now I already know you’re going to tell me that you can’t afford to join a gym, but my brother has some weights he’s not using so we’ll bring them over for you to use here. Maybe do some abs crunches or something. Guys are going to want a six pack.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Working. I get off at two.”

She nodded. “Perfect. We’ll go right to the mall and get your hair done, find you glasses, and maybe even start shopping for new clothes.”

I was feeling more and more depressed by the minute. Maybe dying a virgin wouldn’t be so bad after all. There were definitely worse fates. Like putting my makeover in the hands of Ruby.

* * * *

“You’re hardly recognizable,” Ruby declared. She was sitting next to me at the eye doctor while I tried on different frames.

We’d already visited one of the cheaper, chain haircut places. They’d chopped off the majority of my hair, spiked it like an anime character, which I kind of liked, and died it dark chocolate brown. I had to admit, she was right. I didn’t look at all like Seth Landers anymore. Ruby had paid for the hair.

“The hair’s nice,” I admitted. “But I still think my old glasses are suitable.”

She made a sort of tsking noise and removed the frames I had been trying on and replaced them with a new pair that had thin gold wire frames and the shape of the lenses were sort of oblong round.

“You know, Landers, you’re not half bad,” she said, smiling like she’d just given me the most stupendous compliment.

“Sure, sure, don’t think I’m going to call you Professor Higgins or anything,” I said, referring to Rex Harrison’s character in My Fair Lady.Which we’d watched the night before at Ruby’s insistence.

“You’re no fun at all. Hmm, now that I think about it, we could work on your speech, too.”

“What? There is nothing wrong with the way I talk.”

She waved her hand. “No, but we could make you sound more sophisticated.”

“Forget it.”

“Spoilsport.” She tilted her head this way and that and then grabbed my chin and turned my face to the mirror. “What do you think of these?”

“Well, what I can see of them, they look all right. But without my real glasses I can hardly see.”

“I think they look the best. Let’s tell them we’ll go with these.”

I stopped her when she went to stand. “Wait a minute, sister. How much are those?”

Ruby peered at the frames. “One twenty five.”

I huffed. “This is going to cost me a fortune.”

“Beauty is expensive.”

“I’m not trying to be beautiful, just get a date.”

“Shut up and come here,” Ruby said, reaching down to yank me out of the chair.

Our next stop was a department store where I tried on more jeans than I cared to count while she decided if they hugged my ass enough. Kind of creepy. She also made me get a few plain shirts. By the time the ordeal was over I was exhausted and couldn’t wait for her to drop me off at my apartment.

When I got inside I made the mistake of walking past my land line’s answering machine instead of going straight to the Murphy bed I’d left unmade this morning when I’d been running a little late. The message light blinked and even without pressing the button I knew who left it. The only person I knew who ever called my regular phone was my mother. Everyone else called my cell phone.