Getting ready for a job

The alarm pulls you from sleep at 6:45am sharp, HAVEN's measured voice cutting through a dream you can't quite remember—something about running through a field in a sundress, the sun on your bare shoulders, laughing at something you couldn't see.

You stretch, the silk chemise sliding against your skin, and sit up. Today is the day.

"Good morning, Miss Chloe. Your Morning Routine Protocol is active. LUXE session required by eight AM to maintain house system access."

"I know, HAVEN. I'm on it."

You pad into the bathroom, use the toilet, wash your face, and step into LUXE's glowing chamber. The doors seal behind you with their familiar whisper.

"Good morning, Miss Chloe!" LUXE's voice is bright as ever. "I have your queued look ready—the Professional Retail presentation. Shall we begin?"

"Please."

The robotic arms move with practiced grace. First, the breast forms—fresh adhesive applied, the silicone warm against your chest as they settle into place, that familiar pressure that now feels less like costume and more like completion. Then the lingerie: a nude seamless bra that matches the forms perfectly, and matching nude bikini briefs in a soft microfiber that sits smooth against your hips.

The dove-grey cotton-silk blend dress comes next, the fabric sliding over your head like cool water. Three-quarter sleeves, modest V-neckline that frames the gentle swell of your chest without revealing anything. The A-line skirt falls to just above the knee, structured enough to hold its shape but fluid enough to move with you. A thin tan leather belt cinches at your natural waist.

As the makeup arm begins its work—tinted moisturizer, a sweep of bronzer across your cheekbones, two coats of mascara, a dab of peach lip gloss—you find yourself watching the process with new eyes.

"LUXE?" you ask, holding still as the mascara wand approaches. "Do you have a tutorial mode? Something that could teach me how to do this myself?"

"Absolutely, Miss Chloe! I have a comprehensive Makeup Mastery module with step-by-step guided instruction. Would you like me to add tutorial sessions to your daily routine? I can walk you through each product application in real-time with verbal coaching."

Because you won't be house-sitting forever. But wearing makeup will be part of your life.

The thought sends a warm pulse through your chest—not anxiety, not resignation. Something brighter. Something that feels like yes.

"Yes, please. Start tomorrow."

"Wonderful! I'll prepare a beginner's curriculum. Now—finishing your look for today."

Small gold hoops click into your ears. A thin chain necklace settles against your collarbone. Your hair is gathered into a low twist at the nape of your neck, secured with a tortoiseshell clip. Nude ballet flats slide onto your feet.

You step out and look in the mirror. The girl staring back is polished, approachable, professional—exactly what you planned.

"HAVEN," you call, heading for the kitchen. "I need a second pair of shoes. Something from LUXE's catalog that's good for walking—sneakers, flats, anything with grip. I can't afford another Uber."

"Querying LUXE catalog for athletic and casual footwear, Miss Chloe. I've located a pair of white leather trainers with rubber soles—low profile, good arch support. Shall I have them dispensed?"

"Perfect. Leave them by the front door."

You grab a quick breakfast—HAVEN prepares scrambled eggs and toast, which you eat standing at the counter, checking your phone. No new messages. You slip Margot's book into a small crossbody bag from LUXE's accessory catalog, along with your phone, wallet, and the ballet flats in a cloth tote.

At 7:40am, you step out the front door. The morning air is cool and sweet, carrying the smell of cut grass from yesterday's work. You swap the ballet flats for the white trainers, tie them, and start walking.

Fifty minutes to Main Street. The road is empty except for birdsong and the distant hum of a tractor somewhere over the hills. Your dress sways gently with each step, the leather belt snug at your waist, and the trainers feel solid and sure beneath you.

First day. Living on purpose.

The town appears gradually—first the gas station, then the post office, then the familiar awning of Petal & Thread. You reach the front door at 8:48am, twelve minutes early. You sit on a bench across the street, swap the trainers for the ballet flats, and wait.