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Fiona looked from one woman to another. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea why you wanted to talk to me.”
Leigh snapped her head around to eye Fiona, her perfect brow creased in a frown. But then, so quickly Fiona wasn’t sure if she might have imagined it, Leigh smoothed her expression in a return to the ever-pleasant, eager-to-please beauty queen she was. “Patience, Fiona,” she said, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
Micheline watched them interact with the same compassion that had endeared her to her followers. A slight smile curved her red-painted lips as she waited. “You’re new here,” she told Fiona. “Tell me, what do you think of the AAG?”
Heart skipping a beat, for a split second, Fiona found herself at a loss for words. She recovered quickly, remembering all the hours of intensive research she’d put in. “It’s a bit overwhelming at times,” she volunteered softly. “I can see so much happiness, so much good. I’m just not sure I could ever be worthy of belonging.” There. Textbook. No doubt exactly the sort of thing Micheline had hoped she would say.
“Of course you’re worthy,” Micheline purred. “I see great potential in you. Which is why I’m going to assign you to my son. Show him around, keep him company while I’m in meetings, and make sure he has a good time.”
“She’s giving you a great honor,” Leigh prodded when Fiona remained silent.
Not sure how she felt about this, Fiona pasted a smile on her face and nodded. Best to play along. “Thank you, ma’am,” she stammered, hoping she appeared dazed enough. Her role was to play a grateful and zealous convert while obtaining concrete proof of even one of the crimes Micheline was suspected of being involved in. She already had substantive leads on Micheline’s varied schemes, including running a fake marriage counseling center outside town, and scamming people out of money with phony self-help seminars.
Apparently, she did. Micheline leaned back in her chair, her expression satisfied. “You and Leigh will meet him when he gets here. He’s driving down from northern Arizona, and I expect him sometime between two and three.” With that said, she picked up a stack of papers from her desk and began reading through them, a clear dismissal.
“Come on.” Leigh took Fiona’s arm. “Let’s go up to your room and see if we can find you something suitable to wear.”
Allowing herself to be led away, Fiona glanced down at her fashionably torn jeans. “What’s wrong with what I have on?” she asked.
Leigh only shook her head.
Once they reached Fiona’s room on the second floor, Leigh followed her inside. “Micheline has great plans for you,” she announced the moment the door closed.
Every instinct on alert, Fiona turned. “Really? What kind of plans?”
“She’s grooming you to become a welcome coordinator like me, to help find people just like yourself who need help and could use the AAG’s warm and welcoming family.”
“Wow.” Pretending to be awestruck, Fiona waited to hear the catch. One thing she’d picked up early on here was that AAG did nothing out of the simple goodness of its hearts. It was all about getting money out of its followers.
“Wow is right,” Leigh gushed. “She wants you to focus on Mustang Valley College. Mainly on one particularly lonely, wealthy freshman named Theodore Royce the Third, whose money hasn’t brought him happiness.”
“But AAG will,” Fiona finished, her tone bright, even though her stomach churned.
“Of course. He’s already sought us out, attended a few seminars and talking to one of our counselors. You will take over for her.” Leigh had begun riffling through Fiona’s closet. “You don’t have many dresses.”
Fiona crossed her arms. “I’m not really a dress-up kind of person.”
“Why not? You’re so pretty and you have an amazing body,” Leigh gushed. “Why not use that to your best advantage and show it off to prospective members? How do you think I became Miss Mustang Valley?”
Weighing her options, Fiona decided to play along. “Such an amazing accomplishment.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Leigh wrinkled her nose. “Now I’m going to help you. We’re going to do a makeover.”
“When?”
“Right now, silly.” Patting the desk chair, Leigh picked up Fiona’s admittedly small makeup bag and looked through it. “This won’t do at all,” Leigh muttered. “I’ll be right back.”
And she dashed off, leaving Fiona staring after her. A moment later, Leigh returned, carrying a much larger makeup case. “I want you to pay close attention to what I do,” Leigh instructed her. “So that you can replicate the look on your own. I’ll let you borrow some of my makeup even, since I have tons more.”
As Leigh began rummaging through her stuff, Fiona put her hand on the other woman’s arm to stop her. “What’s the point?” she asked, honestly bewildered. “Why are you having me change the way I look?”
Batting her long—surely false—eyelashes, Leigh sighed. “To help you attract Jake, Micheline’s son. No offense, but Micheline feels you might need just a little help in that department. And I agree with her.”
“Attract Micheline’s son?” Fiona felt as if they’d entered an alternate universe. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because he’s quite the catch, I hear.” Leigh leaned closer, meeting Fiona’s gaze directly. “And Micheline has given her blessing.”
Ewww. Creepy. Wisely, Fiona kept these thoughts to herself. Everything Micheline Anderson did had a reason. So what hidden motive might be behind her using Fiona as bait for her son?
