Fiona was sick of being poor - well what she considered poor. Earning £16,000 just didn't keep her in designer clothes, that's for sure. Catching her relection in her brand new lap top screen, she noticed her long blonde hair catching the sun-light. Her hair so silky and soft she enjoyed running her hands through it as the light bounced off each strand. She knew she was beautiful. Slim, tall a lot of people had told her she should be a model.
She leaned over, smiling to herself as she picked up the business cards she had just had printed. She knew she could pull this off. 'Madame Bovia - fortune teller' - Steve had them designed for her. Twisting back her lusious locks she pulled her hair into a stylish knot and clipped it in place. She would wear a hat today, it was just a prctice. On the day though, the actual day, she was going auburn. More the part. She pictured herself short auburn hair, long beads draped over her neck, plenty of black eyeliner. Today was a practice however, she repeated to herself. She would do a reading for Steve, her boyfriend and two of his business partners. If this was successfull, which it would be. She would be given a spot at the casino where big money lay.
She'd gone over the basics but was now slightly nervous, hands sweating as she ran them down her black silk blouse. She rearranged her clothes, un-doing a button so they would be able to see more clevege. Spraying her favourite perfume between her breasts she smiled to herself. Let this begin.
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