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“You’ll need to eat up,” I said. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”
“More studying your culture?” Vicky said.
“Some. But as you’re an alien from another world, you don’t need to worry about that—too much. Although, you will learn some things to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”
Or me.
“What will I be doing? Not eating all day, I hope. I’ll get fat.”
“I’ve arranged for teachers to come and educate you.”
The fork paused halfway to her mouth.
“Educate me?” she said.
“Make you more like the kind of woman my mom would appreciate,” I said.
She put the fork down.
“Like what?” she said.
“You’ll see when they arrive,” I said.
The doorbell rang.
“Here’s the first one now!” I said. “I’ll let them in.”
I met the stylist at the front door. He was famous and worked on all the big names. His hair was perfectly primped and his makeup was brash and loud.
For a moment, I doubted Zyod’s choice in stylist—I definitely didn’t want Vicky to look anything like this guy. He wore a turquoise suit with purple highlights.
If this was high fashion, I dreaded to think what low fashion looked like.
“You’re the stylist?” I said uncertainly.
“The one and only,” the stylist said. “Me’ell. Pleasure to meet you.”
He ran an eye over me.
“I can see I have my work cut out with you,” he said. “The first thing I want to do is tear all these clothes off and start from scratch.”
“Actually, you’re not here for me,” I said.
Me’ell looked me over.
“Are you sure?” he said.
Trust Zyod not to share the details with him.
“Your victim is in the kitchen,” I said.
“Then let me at them!” Me’ell said, taking off and leaving his cases with me.
Did he expect me to carry his things?
For the amount I was paying him, he should carry his own bags!
I sighed and picked them up. I struggled beneath the weight. Me’ell must be stronger than he looked. I bent my knees and carried it with both hands into the apartment. I met Me’ell at the entrance to the kitchen.
