Mona Lisa Smile
By IridescentGentleman
Chapter 3 — Tuesday Morning
Lisa groaned and rolled over in her plush bed as her alarm blared in her ears. She looked over—it was 4:30 AM. Even for her, that was early. Why the hell had she set her alarm for such an ungodly hour.
“Sweethawt, ya new look is gonna take ya at least an houwa. Maybe more.”
The memory of the nasally, Jersey voice snapped Lisa awake. What had happened last night? She definitely remembered hearing those words. But she didn’t quite remember where. But as the sleep cleared from her mind, more and more of the evening came back to her. She hadn’t been at a bar, thank God. She hadn’t had sex with some stranger, either. But what had happened was even worse. She had gone to the mall like she planned, but nothing in the department store had grabbed her attention. Their makeup seemed bland and uninspired. She had been about to give up and put the whole makeup debacle behind her.
Then she saw it in the way out. Shorelines. She knew the chain well. It was a clubwear store full of all the gaudy things she had left the Jersey Shore to get away from. Tiny club dresses, trashy highlights, muscle shirts, cheap hair gel and perfume, and gaudy makeup. But that gaudy makeup she hated drew her in. She wandered to the makeup counter as though seeing it for the first time. She felt compelled by the electric blues, the neon yellows, the fiery oranges, and the hot pinks.
That was, until she was distracted by a mess of all four.
“Can I help ya suga?” A nasally voice called her attention to the short woman behind the counter. She was platinum blonde, a color that collided harshly with the fake-tan orange of her skin. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses and her face was round. She could have been described as thick—small with pronounced, natural curves practically bursting out of the shimmering minidress she wore under a pink jacket. Lisa looked down to see that her short stature was in spite of a pair of pink heels.
“Oh, no thank you,” Lisa said, masking her contempt for this Jersey exile. “I uh…I’m just looking.”
“Based awf ya face you’re doing more than lookin, dawling,” the woman said. She reached out and took Lisa by the chin. “Awwwwww…baby’s first makeup jawb. How sweet!”
Lisa had pulled back, angry. “Excuse you,” she said to the woman. “But I don’t need your shit. I need some decent makeup.” Lisa’s attitude went from annoyed to angry in a flash. “If you’re not going to help me you can just waddle back to the alley you came out of!” Lisa covered her mouth, gasping in shock. Before she could apologize, the woman cut her off with a high-pitched giggle.
“Oh I like you!” she said, much to Lisa’s surprise. “You gawt some fire in ya! Not like all these boring-ass Karens who usually come around. You can cawl me Big B—the B is fa Betty.” She held out a hand with long, fake nails. “And yaself?”
“Lisa,” Lisa said. “Lisa Ricci. And…I really could use help finding makeup.”
In the present, Lisa leaned back against the headboard of her bed as she recalled the evening. She stayed well past Shorelines’s closing with Big B learning about the fundamentals of makeup and cosmetics. Not the fundamentals Lisa learned to fit in at the office, but the way a woman like Betty did it. She had exited the store with hundreds of dollars in cosmetics, and hadn’t made it home until almost 11. She had just enough time and energy to set her new finds up in her bathroom before she went to bed.
Lisa got out of bed and trudged into her small bathroom. She looked in the mirror, and her shocked look became even moreso. She looked different today. And it wasn’t just the orange foundation she had smeared off onto her pillow. Her skin was darker—no, tanner. Her hair was, too. Her chestnut locks were now deep and dark, and she swore she had waves where there were none before. As she undressed, she looked over her thin body. It looked subtly more defined to her, like she had been working out. And a quick feel confirmed that her breasts were larger. She had never been a handful before, but now her hands comfortably fitted around her boobs.
She had to admit, though. The necklace looked great on her. And looking at it made her sure this was all normal.
Without taking the chain off Lisa stepped into the shower. She quickly cleaned herself off before emerging in front of the sink and her array of new cosmetics. She remembered Big B’s instructions clearly, and she got to work. The mask of dark brown foundation went on first, coating Lisa’s face. Even with her tanner body it created a clear line along her jaw. She followed it up with a burgundy blush to accentuate her cheeks. Eyeshadow was next. Lisa went for a yellow look, blending the fluorescent color in. And she rounded it all off with bright, pink lipstick. She made a few kissy faces into the mirror. She didn’t know how work would take it, but Lisa loved it. And it wasn’t like she was going to get in trouble. Plenty of the admin assistants dressed like this. And it wasn’t like it was a permanent thing. Couldn’t a gal feel pretty sometimes? She’d be back to normal for the presentation on Friday.
As Lisa rationalized to herself, she grabbed a straightener to press her darker hair perfectly. With her mane tamed, she pulled it into a high ponytail. Age flashed a smile into the mirror, and an idea occurred to her. She grabbed her phone from the counter and pointed it at the mirror. Once she was certain her bare boobs were out of the shot she took a picture. She shuddered with excitement. Lisa had always been ambitious. She supposed it was a small leap to loving the kind of attention this look would bring. The thought of being looked at. Noticed. Praised. Reviled. She shook her head at that. No…she wanted to be taken seriously. But there was no law saying she couldn’t look good at the same time. Lisa set the phone down and doused her hair in spray to keep it up through the day. Now she’d need to kill a few minutes while it set. And Lisa knew precisely how to do that.
Lisa opened up a pack of fake nails—Big B had been insistent that she try some talons. She had bought them to be polite. But with a few minutes to spare while her hair set, she figured it couldn’t hurt to try them out. One by one, her plain nails vanished under the neon pink falsies she had purchased. She drummed them on the counter, giggling at the clicking noise that they made with each strike. Once she was sure everything was set, she went to put on her normal work clothes. Today she wore a knee-length skirt instead of pants, rounding out a still utterly professional wardrobe. Lisa liked it—as far as she was concerned, she was proving that cute and professional could mix in the workplace.
Lisa’s drive to work was uneventful. She arrived at the same time she always did. If anything, her early start had invigorated her to make up for the time she lost yesterday. She was surprised to find her car wasn’t the only one parked under the company’s building, though. Who on Earth had come in before her? She didn’t have long to ponder the question as she walked up to the 7th floor and headed to the breakroom to make her coffee. She strode in and came face-to-face with Brad.
Brad had to work to hold his composure as Lisa walked in. Just one day with the necklace had changed her—a lot, too. Sure the makeup, the hairdo, and the nails were her own idea. But there was no way her tan, her more defined figure, or the slight heft in her bust were tricks of the eye. She had already gone from plain to pretty. Brad smiled widely and held up two cups of coffee from a store down the street. “Morning, Lisa,” he said. “Thought I’d save you a few minutes.”
Lisa’s reaction to Brad was one of surprise, as well. It wasn’t just that he was here earlier than she was. It was that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Lisa knew Brad was attractive, but it had never been enough to distract from what a jerk he was. From every time he had talked over her in a meeting or given her a wink when she tried to talk sense into some stupid idea he had. But this morning she found herself focused on his blue eyes. His strong jaw. His broad shoulders. She wondered if he had a six pack. Or if his butt was cute. Or…she shook her head and stopped herself before her thoughts could go any lower on his body. “What the fuck are you doing here Brad?” She asked. She cursed herself for swearing in the office, but she couldn’t let him know she was ogling him. She was overcompensating.
“Offering you a drink,” Brad said. “And some conversation, I guess. I know you come in early and you’re always busy, so I wanted to have some time to talk. About Friday.” Lisa took the cup and sipped at it, not thanking Brad as she walked along to the side of him—trying to subtly get a better look at his profile.
“What’s there to talk about?” Lisa asked. She was feeling even more blunt than yesterday and saw no reason to hold back before anyone else was in the office. “I’m smarter than you. I work harder than you. And I want the Junior Executive position more than you. I’m going to get it, and you’re not.”
Brad’s smile widened. That pawn shop owner had told him the necklace didn’t change who a woman was—only altered the lens she saw herself through. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected the enchanted jewelry to make Lisa less ambitious. But he didn’t anticipate her becoming more forceful. That wasn’t to say he was unhappy, though. He liked the extra fire in Lisa’s eyes. “You sound confident,” he said.
Lisa shrugged, taking another sip of the coffee. “You’re free to take a sick day on Friday if you want to spare yourself some embarrassment,” she offered, circling behind him and getting a quick peek of Brad’s butt in his slacks. Her smile widened just a bit. She stifled it a bit when he turned around.
“I suppose I am,” Brad said. “Or…we could come to some sort of agreement.” The businessman shrugged. “Find a way to work together. To avoid all this messy conflict. I don’t imagine you’ll agree, but I wanted to put it out there. Give it to you to think through.”
“Just admit you’re a fuckin’ pussy,” Lisa said. She covered her mouth. She had been fine confronting Brad, but not quite that much. Even Brad’s mouth hung open for a moment before he laughed and finished his drink.
“I guess I’ll leave you to work on your presentation with your friend—Clark, was it?” Brad said, making his way for the door. “Just remember. The offer is still on the table, Lisa.” He walked out of the breakroom, leaving Lisa to watch him leave with a slightly spacy look. He really did have a nice butt.
Lisa was snapped out of it as Clark passed by Brad into the room. The taller man nudged Clark harshly as he passed, leaving Lisa’s friend sour. But his expression changed instantly when he saw Lisa standing in the breakroom. “Lisa?” he asked. “Lisa I…” Clark adjusted the suit jacket he had put on that morning and tried to figure out what to say to her. Should he comment on Lisa’s high ponytail and the smell of hair spray coming off her? Her thick makeup? Her bright pink lipstick? Or how she kept looking over his shoulder—he didn’t know what else Lisa could be looking at except Brad walking away. But Lisa snapped to attention, cutting him off again before he could speak.
“Clark!” she said, walking up and hugging him. He grew stiff at her embrace, taking a moment to tepidly return it. Lisa had just never been a hugger. “So do you love it, or do you love it?” She made a few mock poses for her friend. “I figured I would try something new today. A look that would give me some confidence.” Lisa walked over to a table and sat down. Clark followed her, just nodding along. “Do you love it, or do you love it?” didn’t exactly leave him an opening to express that he was worried about her. And maybe it wasn’t his place. “So, presentation,” she said. “Let’s get started again.”
The next hour soothed some of Clark’s worries, much to his own surprise. Lisa was more focused like she had been the previous morning. The two went over her presentation plan and got an outline of her plan completed. By the time 9 AM worked around Clark had managed to get used to Lisa’s new makeup. If it was helping her get her head back in the game, who was he to judge? “I think we’re still a bit behind where we want to be,” Clark said as they finished. “But we can make it up at lunch and after work today. I think we’ll be back on track.”
“I’m confident,” Lisa said. She felt great compared to the day before. “Thank you so much for your help getting me back on my game, Clark. And for being so patient with me.”
“It’s really nothing, Lisa,” Clark replied. “Maybe there’s something to this new look thing.”
“It feels like it,” Lisa said. She stood up, and Clark did in tandem with her. Lisa leaned in for another hug, wrapping her friend tight in her arms. “I’ll see you at lunch, babe,” she said. Clark blushed at Lisa’s new pet name for him. She parted from him, giving him one more brilliant smile before turning to head to the office. Clark scratched the back of his head, watching her go. Was it him, or was Lisa’s butt looking bigger today?
Lisa made her way back to her office, passing several coworkers as she sauntered down the halls of the cubicle farm. She quickly noticed all the people staring at her and whispering behind her back. And she loved it. The attention she was getting invigorated her. She smiled and gave little waves as she passed, flicking her hips in a way she had always thought was unbecoming of a professional. And her gazes lingered just a bit longer on the men of the office. Lisa found herself judging them in her mind, making notes as to who was hot and who was very much not. But she didn’t treat them any differently—attention was attention, after all.
But attention required people to look at Lisa. To notice her. And the moment she closed her office door, that attention was gone. She was able to get started at work on the fumes of it, but soon she found that feeling of agitation returning. That grating sense of annoyance. She looked in the mirror, but she couldn’t see anything wrong with her makeup. This feeling was different—like a mixture of the irritation from yesterday and something deeper. A sense of loneliness, of feeling abandoned and lost. Lisa needed someone to see her. She needed attention. In a panic, she pulled her phone out—and was struck with an idea. She turned on her phone’s camera and inverted it, directing it at herself. She gave a sultry pout and put two fingers in the air before snapping a picture. She felt a jolt of good feelings. They didn’t end the morose aura lingering around her, but they gave her a moment of relief. She took another picture with a different pose. And then one more. And with her mind now racing with good vibes, she got a new idea. One that made her wide mouth curl into a smile.
Lisa closed the camera app and set the phone down, quickly setting her office messenger to “Do Not Disturb.” She grabbed her phone again and opened her Picstagram app. Lisa’s own social media presence was token. She put up and maintained just enough to look good if a prospective employer searched her name on the internet. But she logged out of her own Picstagram account. She only had ten followers. As much as she’d have liked to tweak them, she had bigger things in mind. She set up a new account, taking he default name that Picstagram gave it and searched for the biggest beauty, glamour, makeup, and fashion accounts she could find. She followed each and uploaded the pictures she’d been taking one after the other. Each one got a list of popular hashtags and was plastered in every comment section Lisa could manage. Then she watched her phone and waited.
Lisa was starting to become anxious when the first like came in. She didn’t bother to look at who it was—she didn’t care. Someone had noticed her. Someone liked her. Then came another. And more. Her first follow wasn’t far behind. And her first comment came soon after that. Hey bb, u fckn sexy. Lisa knew she should have been appalled by some strange man talking to her that way, but she just giggled. It was exactly what she wanted. Her work laid forgotten on her desk. Lisa was using her computer for other tasks. She was looking up techniques for gaining followers. She was searching or how to take better pictures. She was looking up the current gen smartphone with the best camera. Lisa’s changes may have distracted her from work, but they hadn’t made her less intelligent or tampered with her work ethic. Lisa dove into learning how to get likes and clicks and promote herself with the same determination she’d usually be doing her office work. The “Do not Disturb” setting kept her from seeing the growing queue of messages requesting help or asking where she was. Lisa was much more concerned with getting her face out there for more people to see.
Lisa was finally distracted from her new work by her phone buzzing with something other than a Picstagram status update. She flipped to it and saw a meeting reminder. After she had gotten distracted yesterday, she wanted to make sure she didn’t stand Clark up again. The reminder brought her to her senses a bit. Lisa blinked and shook her head, feeling the rush of her selfie-spree fade away. She looked around her, at her phone and at the desk. She felt a moment of disgust at herself and how she’d spent her morning. But it had felt so good. Lisa was conflicted, both in the moment and about the new thoughts and feelings she was experiencing. Lisa was increasingly convinced that something was deeply wrong with her but found it difficult to muster the panic and alarm she wanted to feel. Giving into her new urges was easier and felt far better.
Lisa’s phone buzzed again. It was time to meet Clark. But Lisa wasn’t sure that she wanted to meet her friend when she could be taking pictures or going out. She felt deeply conflicted. She didn’t want to hurt Clark’s feelings or to slack off on preparing for her presentation. But she needed people to see her. To appreciate her. To admire her. Even to hate her as long as they noticed her. Lisa put her head in her hands and massaged her temples. She knew the right thing to do, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to get up from her desk and head for the lunchroom. Lisa felt a headache coming on. She groaned, and finally shot off a text to Clark.
Hey Clark. I’m not feeling well and I’m clocking out early. Hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow.
With her decision made for better or for worse, Lisa sighed and began packing her things. She put in a leave request with her manager and quickly left the office. Despite her new impulses she fought to keep her head down. She didn’t want anyone to notice her, especially Clark. She made it to the elevator without anyone taking notice of her. Once she was safely inside, she checked her text messages. There was one from Clark, telling her that he would send his notes to her email—and of course to feel better. Clark’s sweet response almost made Lisa turn around and come clean with him. But she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Lisa’s pride wouldn’t let her go back and ask for help. She told herself this would be the last time she ditched her friend. The last time she skipped out on preparing for her own future. But she needed relief, and she had an idea of where to get it. Once the elevator reached the garage Lisa found her car and got in. She knew where she would be able to get what she needed, so she plugged directions to the mall into her phone.