He shook his head. “You aren’t stupid. Not having an education makes you teachable, not stupid. I’ve seen how quickly you learn. Now stop avoiding the questions. GED?”
“Yes,” I growled. “I worked at the Pink Pony for a while. The owner, Hank, insisted I had to.” What a waste that was. But he wouldn’t let me work until I did. I tried going to community college for a while but the travel killed me and any money I had needed to go to other people. An old pang of embarrassment swelled in my chest thinking about that guy in one class who asked how much I charged when he found out how I was paying for school.
“Excellent.” He pulled out a tiny notepad from his pocket and jotted something down in deep cursive I couldn’t read from this angle.
“What is that?” I pointed to his notes.
“Just things I want to make sure we accomplish these next few months.”
I chewed my lip. “What’s the point? What could I learn in this amount of time?”
He sighed and closed his notebook. He folded his hands over it patiently. “Our primary objective is to pass you off as a scholarly elite. You’ll not have to be an expert in anything, but passable in everything. Basic education is a must. We’ll need to focus on wardrobe, accent, vocabulary, and how you carry yourself.”
“Is there anything about me that can stay?”
His gaze moved from my head to my feet. “No.” It moved back to my hair that I twisted around my fingers. “Your hair is fine. Very healthy and clean.”
“Well, knock me over with a feather. That almost sounded like a compliment.” In truth that made me smile because my hair had always been a point of pride for me. I never had extensions and I took real good care of it.
“You should probably keep it tied back though. It’s…distracting.” He frowned and opened his notebook again to jot something else down.
“What does that mean? How can my hair be distracting?”
“Keep it up and out of the way. You’re always fidgeting with it. It says a lot. When dealing with strangers and first impressions the less you give away with body language the better. The mystery can keep the suspense alive. They’ll assume more, rather than less. Especially if you don’t talk. You talk, and it gives you away.”
My fists balled up and I wanted to pummel his face. I’d show him my roots. I’d kick him to next week with my favorite biker boots.
“Stop frowning. This isn’t the time to be oversensitive. We both knew, going into this, the main objective was to change you. Unfortunately, for us, you’ll have to speak though.”
“So now what?”
“Now, we’ll focus on elocution. The ability to provide lucid, grammatically correct English will speak more to your education than years of schooling. The accent stuff is cute but you need to be able to maintain a conversation, not just quote movies. That will imply education. Others will take you seriously if you speak clearly and enunciate your words fully. No charming Southern phrases.” The snide tone of the way he said “charming” told me he found them anything but. “No cutting off words. No adding additional, unnecessary words.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like 'real pretty' instead of beautiful or using curse words. Less is more. Instead of adding futile words, just take the time to find the correct ones. Take the time, period. Think before you speak. I suspect that alone will be your biggest challenge.”
“You're a real asswipe, you know that?” I glared at him. Real pretty and beautiful had different meanings. Didn’t Mr. Professor know that?
“Case in point.” He dragged my chair closer. “If you’re going to insult me, do so with decorum. Do so in a way that will make the person have to think to figure out if they’ve been insulted.”
“Like what?”
“You clearly have not been burdened by an overabundance of education.”
I paused, then fought a smile. “That’s pretty funny.” I sat back and let out a slow breath. “I need a drink.”
“We haven’t even started.”
“I know, but you’re already annoying me.” I crossed my arms.
I knew that we’d be doing this, but it was humiliating to know that everything about me needed to be fixed. Oh, except my distracting hair.
“Hmm. Try again,” he said. “Feel free to insult me. Get it all out.”
I turned and our knees bumped. I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant. But if insulting him was part of the work, I could get behind that.
“Your condescending tone makes me want to claw your face off.”
