Chapter Two: Playing Dress-up

“This Saturday? Of course, that sounds wonderful. She’ll be there,” May Ridley-Forrester said into the phone. “Yes, buh-bye,” Turning to her husband, she bestowed a lovely smile.

“That was Penelope. She wants to meet Kat this weekend,”

“Oh, is that so?” Don pulled off his reading glasses and put aside the tablet. “She’s not seriously thinking about…is she?”

“Maybe, I don’t know,” May shrugged delicately. “All of our daughters are happily married save for Kat. Would it be that bad if the same happened for her? After her, it’ll just be the two of us…can you imagine the peace and tranquility?” She signed in pleasure, snuggling in her husband’s arms.

“Yes, it would be amazing if she can be as happy as her sisters. But we are talking about our youngest here, May…I don’t imagine that she’ll react well to this possible matchmaking attempt.”

Don was right.  

“Who is this Penelope person?” Kat asked later that night. 

Like most females of her culture and unmarried status, she still lived with her parents. One could hardly complain about her lifestyle, however. The Ridley-Forresters’ mansion was located in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the city. The house actually took up an entire block in the sought-after district and was made up of thirty or so Victorian brownstones that had been converted into a single home. Although it still featured the old architecture, the house itself had been upgraded over the years to include a home theater, private gym and swimming pool. Aside from its breathtaking views of the city skyline and harbor, it was also within minutes of famous restaurants, museums and high-end shopping facilities. They also had a household staff of butlers, maids, chefs and chauffeurs.

“Have I met her before?” Kat asked.

“Yes, she’s attended our soirees before,” May said. She was sitting on Kat’s bed, watching her daughter.

“Why does she want to see me?” Kat went into the dressing room to change into cotton pajamas.

“To be completely honest, Kat, it’s a marriage interview,”

“What?!” 

“It wasn’t my idea,” May held her hands up to defend herself. “Your grandfather and she had this arranged a long time ago.”

“Can I refuse?”

“I’ll tell you the full story, Kat, and then you can decide for yourself. You see, your grandfather and Penelope had loved one another in the romantic sense but circumstances prevented them from marrying. Even though they themselves couldn’t, they would love to see their grandchildren get married.”

Kat turned to sit at her vanity, hiding her reaction from her mother. The explanation struck a chord in her. “Fine, I’ll go,” 

May smiled and went to stand behind her daughter. “Good, dear. Why does your hair look like this? I swear, I don’t even remember what color it is anymore,”

Kat pursed her lips, knowing that her mother was going to launch into yet another lecture. Her mother didn’t disappoint.

“Katerina Vivika Ridley-Forrester, you are twenty-four years old and a law Professor. Please dress as such. You resemble an elderly man in your suits. I know that you think you’re not as pretty as your older sisters but you should try a little harder, at least. If the media ever saw upi like this, they would have a field day,” May referred to her occupation as a leading fashion designer.  

“Who would take you seriously looking the way you do?  It’s no wonder you didn’t get the Dean’s position.” May lightly touched her daughter’s shoulder. “You didn’t study all those years only to be a lowly teacher, right? Maybe you should learn from this—dress more appropriately and you will be taken more seriously. If not, all the family connections and intellect will get you nowhere. Appearance is everything. Don’t forget about Saturday, goodnight,”

Kat watched silently as her mother left before turning to look at her reflection. The face staring back at her was frowning deeply. She quickly smoothed out her expression, surprised to find that her forehead was still wrinkle-free. She tugged her hair loose, shaking her head to allow the thick mass to fall past her shoulders. She proceeded to take out her brown contacts, revealing startling ice-blue eyes. In three generations, she had been the first to inherit her European great-grandfather’s eyes. She was Thai and, yet, she was cursed with blue eyes. As a child, she had been teased that she was unrelated to her sisters and cousins. Wanting to look like her family, she had decided to wear colored contacts.  

It hadn’t helped as she found that, no matter how hard she tried, she was still different. She was the youngest of the cousins but had been ahead of them academically. While everyone pursued careers to further the Ridley-Forrester Empire, she had chosen to teach instead. She hadn’t meshed with her classmates, either, as they had been several years older. It seemed that she would never belong anywhere, not with her beautiful family, at school or at work.

“Maybe I should try harder,” Kat whispered. "Or make an effort."

She had never been interested in hair and cosmetics like her sisters and mother. She had grown up with her head buried in books, soaking up all the information she could gather on every topic that fascinated her. While her sisters and cousins dated, found love and finally got married, she had been studying and researching for her doctorates. After becoming a faculty member, she had given up all hope on becoming one of the glamorous Ridley-Forrester women.

Without another thought, she googled for an at-home stylist. “Can you be here in the morning?” She asked the first live person that answered. 

The next morning, she doubted her quick decision. “Am I supposed to look like this?” She turned her head side to side as she surveyed the stylist’s work.

“Yes, this is the new fashion trend,” Monica answered, smiling widely. If her boss saw her now, she would surely promote her from shampoo girl to head stylist. It had been extremely sneaky of her to set up the appointment without her boss knowing.

“Well, I don’t have time to undo it, anyway. I’m already late as it is,” She paid the woman and quickly made her way out. She had to focus on holding her head up due to the heaviness of the hairdo. She didn’t see the looks of horror from the maids.  

“Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tonight,” Kat waved to her parents, rushing past them and into her car. It wasn’t until she reached campus when she became aware of the stares from others. Feeling confident, Kat walked briskly into her office.

Evan was typing diligently on his laptop, a cup of coffee within reach. He paused for a drink when Kat burst through the door. He abruptly sputtered the hot liquid onto the desk. Coughing uncontrollably, he stared in wonder at his colleague.  

Kat was dressed in the same type of suit as yesterday but it was her head that caught his attention. Her face was covered in a myriad of colors—pink cheeks, crimson lips and bright blue eyelids. Her hair had been teased to resemble a small beehive.

Once he recovered from his initial shock, Evan threw his head back and laughed uproariously. “You—you look like IT. No—no—Frankenstein’s monster caught in the middle of a paintball fight!” He managed to say between bouts of laughter.

Kat stood fuming, glaring at him. “Are you quite finished?” She asked curtly. “I will not stand here and be laughed at!” She ignored the noises coming from Joy outside their office.

Evan shook his head, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. “No one told me you would be such a riot…this is a joke, right? I mean—you can’t be serious. Who in their right mind would leave the house looking like that?”

Kat’s back straightened until it threatened to break. Her hands clenched angrily at her sides.  When she saw that he was going to continue laughing at her expense, she turned and disappeared into the small bathroom connected to their office.

“Hey!” Evan rose, immediately following her. “Kat, what are you doing?” He pounded on the door in alarm.

Kat ignored him as she vigorously splashed water onto her face to rid off the makeup. She was in the process of wetting her hair when the door shoved her against the wall. The water in her hand ended up on her shirt instead.

“What is the matter with you?” Kat screamed. “First you laugh at me and call me Frankenstein and now you’re invading my privacy! Can’t you just leave me in peace?”

Evan gulped, speechless. The hideous face paint was gone and her hair now lay damp over her shoulders. But it was her blouse that drew his eyes. The white shirt was plastered to her chest, revealing the feminine bra underneath.  

“Wow…” He breathed.

“Oh!” She gasped when she saw her nipples clearly outlined against the wet fabric. She spun around quickly, crossing her arms protectively over her exposed chest.

“I…I’m sorry…I got worried—I’m sorry,” Evan apologized. “Wow,” He repeated under his breath. He ran a shaky hand through his thick, dark hair. “The Beast isn’t so much of a beast, now is she?”

Kat heard the comment and immediately regained her composure. With one arm still over her breasts, she turned back to face him.  

“Is that so?” She bared her teeth at him before she pushed the door—along with him—closed. “And stay out!” She yelled through the door.  

“Sick, evil bastard…I should report you for sexual harassment!” She murmured to herself. 

She looked down at her blouse and groaned. Class was starting soon and she resembled a drowned rat. Her skin itched uncomfortably, but she knew that she could make it work—she was definitely mean enough that no one would dare to comment on her disheveled appearance.

She had just finished brushing her hair and tying it into her usual untidy bun when Joy knocked on the door. “What is it?”

“Dr. Alston had me go to the campus store and pick up these for you,” Joy replied. “I’ll leave it here,”

“Thanks,” Kat waited until she heard the office door close before she opened the bathroom door. A bag lay at her feet. Inside was a crimson buttoned shirt and white tank top, both with the university emblem. Grateful, she quickly changed out of her damp clothes. The shirt and camisole fit her perfectly and went well with her loose black trousers. Without another thought, she swiftly grabbed her things and made her way to the lecture hall.  

“Okay, class, yesterday we left off at the Wilson-Gorman Tariff Act, also known as the Revenue Act of 1894. Now…” Kat looked up and found eighty pairs of eyes gazing at her oddly. “Is something the matter?” She asked sharply.

“You look nice today,” A brave student yelled out. Her classmates nodded in agreement.

Kat was so shocked and flattered; all she could say was “Thanks,”