Homicidal By Design [Hector Escaton]

Chapter 2

"Oh miss, you look so beautiful!" the ladies maid at the Mariposa hotel exclaimed, giving Izzy a hand mirror from the cluttered vanity so she could see the back of her hair. 

Izzy was amazed by what the little host had accomplished in such a short time. What had started off as "just something to keep it out of my face" had turned into a sweeping bun with twirls and braids interwoven; the many colors of her blonde hair all mingled to create a unique look. To finish it off, two wisps of hair were curled to frame her face. The ladies maid, Annie, assured her it was all the rage in France right now.

"You did a phenomenal job, Annie, thank you!" she complimented, smiling at the young freckled host who beamed proudly. No matter what Len said, she was giving this girl a tip!

"Now we just have to get you some rouge. I'll be right back!"

The host scurried off, leaving Izzy to stare at her reflection in the vanity mirror alone. Taking a walking tour of Sweetwater had been wonderful. Knowing that none of the stores or houses were facades, that you could walk into any place and buy goods, greet people, even see a doctor; it was overwhelming. It really was like being transported in time. The nickering of horses and hoofbeats, the dull roar of idle chatter and the occasional gun shot, they were all perfectly harmonized with the mountains and plateaus in the distance. The stripes of colored rock glittered with sandstone in the afternoon sun, and Izzy wanted to see everything Sweetwater had to offer. Poor Len had to walk with her as she thoroughly examined every building and walkway!

At least he hadn't had to be there when she took a good five minutes just to appreciate how cute her cozy room was. The vanity and wardrobe were so large, that only a bed fit in the remaining space, but the furniture was beautifully carved dark wood worthy of nobility. Westworld only shied from historical accuracy to give her a small adjoining bathroom with running water in the tub. Thank goodness for small favors.

While they were out on their tour, it had also taken Izzy no time at all to drop an extra $1000 on a royal blue riding habit she had found while window shopping. The dressmaker was happy to take her measurements and have the bodice and skirt alterations done while Izzy continued her thorough examination of the town. And it was that dress she was sitting in now. Inspecting her reflection, Izzy agreed with the host maid when she said it made her eyes look very blue.

There had to be some perk to having lackluster grey eyes, and it was that depending on the color she wore, they could seem bluish or greenish; they reflected the color. That was not to say that Izzy didn't think she was pretty, on the contrary, she knew she was quite beautiful—even if she was lacking in the cleavage department. Unfortunately she wasn't a girl-next-door approachable sort of pretty. She had, she was told, quite the resting bitch face. Not to mention, she was tall and, thanks to kickboxing, a little more muscular than most women. But hey, a girl's got to blow off steam somehow. Especially in her line of work. If men were intimidated by her, well that was their problem.

And she looked damn good in this period clothing.

It only took a few minutes, once the maid returned, for her to be ready to go, and Len was waiting for her downstairs in the saloon.

"Izzy you look beautiful!" he exclaimed, doing the shot waiting for him and then pushing off the dark wood bar. She couldn't help but grin unabashedly at him, maybe this place really was seductive, like her mom had told her.

"The horses should be saddled," Len commented, taking her by the hand in a gallant fashion. It was odd to see him so thoroughly entrenched in the character, but Izzy supposed that Westworld had the same effect on him that it did her. And from his black cowboy hat to the rather serious looking gun in his holster, Len looked like he belonged in the park.