The Making of Mia by Ilana Fox Read Free Book Online

queen later, you’ll be in trouble.’

Chapter Four
    Jo and Amelia were sitting in the Beetle outside Gigolo – Charlie’s recently opened bar in the heart of Winchester – and Jo
     was on the verge of a panic attack.
    ‘I’m not sure I can do this,’ she whispered, as Amelia applied a final stroke of blusher to Jo’s cheeks. Jo moved her face
     away from Amelia’s hands and stared at the impossibly glamorous people queuing outside the bar. She felt irrational fear running
     through her veins. ‘Ames, do I really have to wear all this make-up?’ she asked her friend. ‘I feel a bit odd with all this
     stuff on my face … A bit … obvious.’
    Jo pulled a mirror from her bag and gazed at herself with slight horror. Amelia had spent what seemed like hours on her, blow-drying
     her hair until it shone, shading blue Dior cream eyeshadow over her lids, and accenting the curve of her eyes with heavy black
     liner. Maybelline Great Lash mascara provided a
femme fatale
look, and a final sweep of Pout Flush Blush gave the impression of cheekbones. Jo wasn’t sure if she looked sensational or
     if she resembled a clown, but she was sure she wasn’t fashionable – last month’s issue of
Cosmo
said the natural look was in.
    Amelia smiled kindly, but before she said anything Jo buried her head in her hands.
    ‘It’s going to be like school all over again, isn’t it?Everyone is going to take the piss out of me and my make-up and you’re going to end up babysitting me.’
    Amelia rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ she said gently. ‘You look amazing – like a completely different person … Now,
     let’s go.’ Amelia jumped out of the car, hoping that as soon as they were in the bar Jo would stop worrying, but Jo followed
     her slowly, wobbling on the kitten heels Amelia had made her buy and feeling overdressed and foolish.
    The new jeans she’d been so proud of earlier that day suddenly felt too tight, and Jo was sure that her love handles could
     be seen through her top. She watched the gorgeous girls in the queue pout and stick out their hipbones as they waited to get
     in, and then felt her heart drop as she realised just how enormous she was in comparison to them. The only way to get through
     the evening, Jo decided, was to pretend to be an undercover reporter doing a piece on body fascism in England. She wasn’t
     really fat, she told herself, just wearing padding for a magazine assignment.
    Amelia confidently led Jo past the staring girls in the queue and, after shooting the burly bouncers a flirtatious grin, led
     Jo into the dark bar. A barman spotted Amelia and wolf-whistled, but his expression froze slightly when he spotted Jo lumbering
     behind her. Suddenly everyone stopped talking, and Jo felt herself tense up – she knew they were staring at her, and not in
     a good way. Amelia took control of the situation and steered Jo to a free table in a roped-off VIP section.
    ‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ she said, spotting a space at the bar. ‘I’m just going to get us some drinks.’
    When Jo didn’t say anything, Amelia studied her face carefully, and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Don’t worry about what
     everyone thinks,’ she said, grabbing one of Jo’s hands and giving it a squeeze.
    But Jo did. As soon as Amelia walked away Jo noticed apair of skinny girls looking at her curiously. Immediately Jo felt like a rare animal in a cage with no way to escape, and
     she wished she could run to the ladies’ and hide. Instead, she tried to hold in her stomach, and when that failed she crossed
     her arms over her chest protectively. Amelia swung herself into a seat, and splashed some drinks on to the black leather coasters
     on top of the table. Her cheeks were glowing.
    ‘So what do you think?’
    ‘I think everyone’s staring at me and laughing,’ Jo said flatly.
    Amelia grinned. ‘What? No, what do you think of Gigolo? It’s incredible, isn’t it? Bet it beats the bars in