Everyone is walking around The Center deliriously happy because today is commission check day. Which is good, because Brie needs the ten G's coming her way so she can pay off that credit card her dad co-signed. Four more checks like these and she'll be debt free in a year, which is critical for the lone wolf. It's time to get responsible, put some money in the bank, and think about how she'll take care of herself once the petals have all dropped. An Anti-Aging Ambassador is only as successful as her own wrinkle prevention. Once this peach goes to rot, so will the commissions.
Speaking of commissions, this next client here is like silly putty left in a warm car. "Beebs!" Brie says as she walks into the Evaluation Room, still high on the thrill of her conquest. "Oh my God, your hair. It's platinum! Holy bombshell, it looks good."
Brie swivels Beebie in her chair to face the mirror and dims the light to a feel-good tone. "Look how gorgeous this shade makes your skin look."
Beebie wriggles and jiggles. "I know, I'm totally loving it."
Beebie is a beautiful girl, but she's fifty pounds overweight, which means she has low self-esteem and also that her body fat is doing the work that Juvaderm and Restylane should be doing. Fat don't crack.
"So what are we talking about today?" Brie asks, turning the lights up to interrogation levels. Suddenly Beebie looks human again, her eyebrows unruly, her upper lip in shadow. "We should wax and zap you. How's your underarm hair?"
Beebie lifts her elbow. "Back with a vengeance."
"Damn." Brie whistles. "Like Liam Neeson. Let's turn up the dial up on those bastards." Brie marks down eyebrow waxing and laser hair removal. "Okay, so let's get serious. How did you do with the juice flush?"
Beebie breaks eye contact. "I mean, I drank it..."
"Uh huh, but did you use it as a meal replacement or as a tasty beverage?"
Beebie shrugs. "Sorry, the juice thing just isn't for me. I'm not even slightly satisfied after drinking one. So yeah, I ate."
Brie blubbers her lips. "I know it's hard. It's hard for me, too. Okay, you know what? Screw the juice flush. You need more protein. I think we should scrap the whole thing. If it's not working, then it's a waste of money. I want you to do two soft-boiled eggs in the morning with some wilted greens. If that's not enough add two extra egg whites, but don't eat the yolks, that's too much fat. You can eat all the berries you want, but absolutely no toast. No bagels, no croissants, none of that shit. Carbohydrates are the enemy of weight loss and you know it."
Beebie strokes her hair despondently. "I don't know, Brie. I think I'm just a fat girl. I should just marry a fat guy and get it over with."
"No!" Brie shouts. "I've seen you do it. You looked amazing last year. We're not going for skinny, we're going for healthy and happy. You don't feel good when you're this heavy."
Beebie reaches out her hand to Brie. "Fat guys think I'm pretty. Thin guys think I'm fat."
Brie takes a seat on the stool next to her client. "Listen. You are pretty, but you're also fat. If you give up on this and get into a relationship with someone who overeats like you do, you'll become co-dependent couch Jabbas who spend all your time eating gnocchi and icebox cakes. You'll gain a ton more weight, be miserable, realize it, break up with him, and be further away from your goal. You need someone who motivates you away from your habits. Or actually, you need nobody right now."
Beebie makes a sad face. "But I don't want nobody."
Brie squeezes Beebie's soft shoulder. "Listen, I'm on the bleeding edge of a revolutionary discovery and I'm going to share it with you."
YOU ARE READING
Brie Baggio thinks she's ready... for marriage, kids, the whole shebang. She's pushing forty, and even though she's the Senior Anti-Aging Ambassador at Los Angeles's hottest med spa, Botox can't paralyze that nagging feeling that it's now or never...