Heidi couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “Your life is like an ancient folk story. How wonderful. And you were happy?”
“Yes. Until he breathed his last breath, we loved only each other.” Fatima sighed. “That is what I want for you, Heidi. That is what I hoped you would find with Jamal.”
Heidi wasn’t so sure about the love part, but she would gladly accept a truce and maybe some pleasant conversation. “So you think I should do the same thing? Become a mysterious woman and win him?”
“It’s perfect,” Dora said, clapping her hands together. “If you’re pretending to be someone else, you can pretend to have confidence and be sexy and all the things you feel you lack as yourself. What’s the expression? Fake it until you make it.”
“It’s a great theory,” Heidi hedged. “But I’m not sure about the reality of it all working.” But as Dora had said earlier, what did she have to lose?
“There are details to be worked out,” Fatima admitted. “Things were simpler in my time.” She paused while she thought.
“Uh-oh, I recognize that look,” Dora said. She stood up and moved to a desk in the foyer. There she rummaged through drawers until she found a large pad of paper and a pen. “All right. I’ll be in charge of the lists. Where do we start?”
Fatima pursed her lips, then motioned to Heidi. “Stand up, child, and walk to the French doors.”
Feeling incredibly self-conscious, she did as Fatima requested. The harem was at the rear of the palace and the wide glass doors faced a walled garden. She tried to gather comfort from the familiar view, but it didn’t help. She was already blushing when she turned and walked back to the cluster of sofas.
Fatima shook her head. “Those clothes have to go. The bland colors are unflattering, and the shapeless style does nothing for you.”
Heidi fingered the thick cotton of her dress. “They’re easy.”
“Beauty is not,” Fatima said flatly. “It takes time and commitment.” She tilted her head. “Do you even have a figure under there?”
“Um, sure.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I guess I’m about a size eight or ten. I’m a little bigger on top than on the bottom.”
Dora groaned. “We should all be so lucky.”
“Then why do you dress like a frump?” Fatima asked. “Why don’t you at least flatter your figure?”
“I don’t know.” Heidi shifted uncomfortably. “At school I wore a uniform until college. When I spent summers with Grandfather, I was more interested in comfort and ease of packing than anything else. At college, the crowd I was involved with didn’t care about clothes.” She unfolded her arms, then crossed them again. “I never know what to do. I look in the magazines and see pretty things, but when I get to the store I don’t know what’s going to look good on me.”
“Clothes,” Dora murmured as she wrote on the pad.
“Lots of them,” Fatima added. “We’ll worry about her regular wardrobe later. For now, it’s mistress fashions only.”
Heidi didn’t ask what mistress fashions were. She had a feeling she didn’t want to know. She tried to relax, again dropping her arms to her sides. “Clothes will help,” she said, “but how are we going to keep Jamal from knowing it’s me.” She pushed up her glasses. “I don’t think he’s going to be easily fooled.”
“Contacts for starters,” Dora said. “Have you ever tried them?”
Contacts? “You want me to put little pieces of plastic in my eyes? Are you insane?”
Dora looked at Fatima. “That would be a no.”
“Absolutely. Make a note of it. I know a good optician here in the city. She does wonderful work.” Fatima tilted her head. “Her eyes are hazel now, but green would be very lovely with her complexion.”
“Nixola on the contact lenses,” Heidi insisted. “I can’t wear them.”
“Have you tried?” Dora asked.
“No, but—”
“What about her hair?” Fatima asked, cutting her off. “Unpin it, dear, so we can see what it looks like down. When you were dressing for the wedding, I remember thinking it was quite lovely.”
Heidi stared at them. “You two are taking over my life.”
“Someone has to,” the queen informed her. “After all, you came to us for help.”
Heidi pressed her lips together. So this was her own fault. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
She reached up and tugged at the pins securing her hair and shook her head. The long strands tumbled down around her shoulders, nearly to her waist.
“Fabulous,” Dora breathed. “But we’re going to have to change it somehow.”
Fatima rose to her feet and walked around Heidi. She picked up a long strand and fingered it. “Yes, very lovely. But what to do?”
Dora stood up and joined Fatima. “What about layering her hair?” she asked. “As Heidi she could still wear it up so Jamal wouldn’t know the difference. As the mystery woman she could curl it and wear it loose.”
Fatima glanced at Heidi. “What do you think?”
“That seems fine. My hair holds curl pretty well.”
“Maybe one of those washout colors,” Dora was saying. “Something to make it look different.”
She looked at Fatima who raised her eyebrows.