by Cate Beauman
“We can do a color test…” Abby trailed off as a pretty brown haired woman walked into the room carrying a large coffee. “Or we can ask the expert herself.” Abby beamed. “Sophie, this is Jackie, Lily Brand’s own hair and makeup genius.” She hugged the woman. “Hey, Jacks.”
“Hi, Abby.” Jackie kissed Abby’s cheek.
“Sophie and I were thinking about raiding the tables, but she’s not sure what she should choose. Do you have any pointers?”
“You know I do.” Jackie stepped closer to Sophie, sliding a finger along Sophie’s cheek. “You have beautiful skin.”
“Thank you.” She gave Jackie a small smile. She wasn’t used to people being so touchy feely. “Um, I don’t wear a lot of makeup. None, actually. Usually just lip gloss.” She hadn’t even been able to wear that after she moved in with Eric.
Jackie tsked. “Well that’s a shame, because your eyes are fascinating. You need to play them up. Violet. I’ve never seen it.”
“All this stuff…” Sophie swept a hand toward the table. “It’s pretty foreign to me.” In high school, she’d been more interested in three-pointers and layups than mascara wands and blush. Mom tried to show her a couple of times, but she hadn’t paid attention. Now that she was surrounded by so many beautiful people, she wished she had.
“It’s time for an education. I can’t let you leave without showing off those eyes. It would be a crime to my profession.” Jackie took Sophie’s hand. “Come on over to my chair and I’ll show you how.”
A tall man with a funky, slicked-back cap of black hair walked in.
“Marco.” Abby hugged him. “Marco, god’s gift to hair. I want you to meet my friend Sophie.”
Sophie held out her hand. “Hi.”
“Hey, nice to meet you.” He slid his fingers through her hair. “Soft. Healthy. But too long.”
She swallowed, unsure of what to say to Marco’s critique.
“This doesn’t do anything for that spectacular face of yours. Jackie gets to play with you. Can I play too?”
“Uh…” Never in her life had she met people like this before.
“I can see it now.” He stepped behind the salon chair, talking to her as they looked at each other in the mirror. “We’ll lose several inches, then I’m thinking a couple of light streaks right through here.” He touched various strands of hair along the crown of her head.
She stared at the yards of pretty blonde she’d been growing for years. Marco wanted to cut it—lots of it. She digested the quick rush of fear. If Eric knew she was even contemplating the thought… He’d slapped her the day she’d come back from getting a trim, shouting that women were meant to have long hair. But Eric wasn’t here anymore, and this was her hair. The idea of defying him was as liberating as it was frightening. “Okay. Yes. You can cut it. Do whatever you want,” she said in a rush before she changed her mind.
Marco rubbed his hands together, grinning. “Let me go make up my color.”
“Let’s get a mani/pedi going while Marco takes care of your hair, then we’ll get to the makeup,” Jackie said as she rolled over a small cart.
“Oh, well, sure.” Sophie glanced from Jackie to Abby. “Is this okay?”
“Absolutely. Marco and Jackie play with my hair and makeup all the time. I’m going to head down the hall for a few minutes.”
“Okay.”
“Have fun.”
She was going to try, even if she was unsure. This is what women did with their girlfriends. They got their hair done and had manicures and pedicures. “I will.”
Forty-five minutes later, Sophie’s heart pounded while Marco dried her hair and Jackie brushed the wand over her lashes. She was trying her best to listen to Jackie’s pointers on wiggling and sweeping from the base of the lash, but every time Marco slid the hairbrush through her hair, she couldn’t help but notice his downward strokes stopped just below her shoulders. What had she done, and why had they insisted on turning her away from the mirror? They’d assured her more than once that she was going to love “the new her,” but now that it was too late to change her mind she wasn’t so certain.
Abby stepped back into the room, pushing a large cart with several dozen clothing items swaying on hangers. She stopped short, her eyes going wide.
Oh god. It was horrible. Sophie’s heartbeat kicked up another notch as she gripped the armrest beneath her smock, struggling to keep herself from rushing from the chair. What if Marco had forgotten the original plan and she ended up with blue or pink streaks? She wasn’t ultra trendy. She couldn’t blend in with everyone else with pink hair.
Marco shut off the dryer, fluffed her ends, and stood in front of her, studying with his hand on his chin.
Jackie pushed the wand back in the tube of mascara, joining Abby and Marco as they all stared at her.
It was worse than she had imagined. They were trying to find a way to tell her. She swallowed, looking from Jackie to Abby to Marco. Why weren’t they saying anything? She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Abby chuckled. “Let’s put her out of her misery. Spin her around, guys.”
“Yes, please. Please spin me around.” She wiped her damp palms on her jeans and slammed her eyes shut as Jackie turned her toward the mirror. She opened one eye, then blinked in shock, staring at the stunning woman looking back at her. Marco hadn’t turned her hair blue; he’d added barely noticeable streaks of bright blond, accentuating her natural color. She touched her fingertips to the blunt-cut, shoulder-length style. “I can’t believe… Is that really me?”
Abby laughed.
Sophie stood, moving closer to the mirror, shocked that a slide of eyeliner and a few sweeps of mascara could make her eyes appear so huge.
“You look like you belong in a magazine, all sleek and polished.” Abby stepped up next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
She did. “I can’t possibly even...”
Jackie shoved a bag in her hand. “This is all the makeup we’ve talked about. And there’s shampoo, conditioner, and other product Marco selected for you.” Jackie hugged her. “You come back and visit us.”
“I will.” She embraced Marco next. “Thank you. Thank you both so much.”
“Call me in six weeks for a trim. No one else touches your hair.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Okay.”
Marco and Jackie’s cell phones beeped at the same time. Jackie looked at her screen. “The boss lady’s looking for us. We’ll be back.”
“See you soon.” Abby clasped her hands below her chin, grinning as Marco and Jackie walked out. “Now it’s my turn.” She pulled the cart of clothes closer and grabbed a pair of jeans and a simple blue and white striped top from the pole. “Go ahead and try these on. I already know it’s going to be perfect. I want to see that amazing figure of yours in the right clothes.”
“Abby, I couldn’t possibly. The hair and makeup…”
“Yes you can.” Abby pushed her into the dressing room. “Don’t ruin my fun.” She closed the curtain with a playful smile.
She chuckled, hardly able to believe this was truly happening. Abby was her fairy godmother.
“How does it look?”
“Um, I don’t know. I haven’t tried it on yet.”
“You’re killing me with suspense.”
“Okay. Hold on.” She took off the clothes she’d arrived in and pulled on the snug jeans that accentuated her butt perfectly and made her waist appear tiny. She put on the light cotton top next, in awe that she was actually looking back at herself. In an hour’s time she’d been transformed from dowdy to polished. She pulled the curtain aside, and Abby grinned.
“I knew it. Here.” Abby handed her a brown leather belt. “Put this on.” She got down on one knee and rolled Sophie’s pant legs twice. “Go ahead and step into these too.” She set brown leather sandals in front of her.
Sophie slid on the pretty, summery shoes that looked even better with her French manicured t
oenails.
Abby stood, looking Sophie up and down. “Yup. This is definitely right. Casual, classy, and fun.”
She’d officially been transformed. For the first time ever, she felt beautiful. Somehow three strangers had known what she’d always wanted. She’d planned to remake her image after college to go along with her degree, but her vanity had taken a backseat to Mom’s needs. “This is so great. Truly great.”
“I’m glad—” Abby’s phone rang. “Oh, just a second.” She answered. “Hello.” She smiled. “Yes. Not too long. You got it, big guy. I love you too.” She hung up. “The hubs checking in to make sure I’m okay. He still gets a little nervous.”
Sophie nodded, remembering that Abby had gone through an ordeal of her own.
Abby clasped her hands again. “So you like the outfit?”
“I love it.” She glanced at her watch. Time had flown by. “But I should probably get home.”
“We need to bag up the rest of this stuff for you.” She gestured to the cart full of clothing.
“But this is too much. I can’t possibly take all of this. There must be a dozen outfits.”
“Probably closer to two or three. And you can mix and match all of them, so really there’s endless options.”
“Abby, I can’t—”
“Yes you can. I want you to. We give stuff away all the time. Our models grab stuff; you saw that for yourself.”
She glanced at adorable skirts, tops, slacks, jeans, and numerous shoe options, loving everything Abby had picked. There were even a few lacey bra and panty sets. “I know I’ve said this a million times. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now you can meet me at Yoshoris for lunch.”
She smiled. “Yes I can.” And she couldn’t wait. “I’m going to catch the bus so you can get home to Jerrod.”
“You’re not taking the bus. You have too much stuff. I’m driving you.”
Sophie shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense for you to drive all the way to the Palisades only to drive back down here.”
“So we’ll compromise and call a taxi.”
She almost said no, but she knew Abby would insist on taking her. “Okay. A taxi it is.”
Forty minutes later, Sophie sat in the back of the cab staring out the window, rehashing her awesome day—a party that had turned out to be fun, dozens of orders to make, and a new wardrobe, accessories, and beauty supplies. She’d been putting a few dollars away here and there to buy herself some new clothes, but now she didn’t need to.
The cab rolled up to a stop at a set of lights next to one of her favorite department stores. She nibbled her lip, remembering the coffee maker she’d seen in the flyers last night. The thing was expensive, but it was a beauty and would be perfect for Stone. She wanted to get it for him, but the money… She crunched numbers in her head, figuring she could use the cash she hadn’t spent on clothes plus the few extra dollars she hadn’t spent at the grocery store yesterday. “Excuse me. Could you please pull in here and wait for me. I’ll be quick.”
“It’s your dime, lady.” The cabbie took the right, and she hustled into the store, making a beeline for the kitchen area. She searched the shelves, huffing out a breath when she noticed the shelf empty.
“Crap,” she murmured and bent at the knees, noting the model she was looking for tucked back among one of the other brands. “Yes.” Grinning, she grabbed the last coffee maker in stock, wincing when she glanced at the price. This was good quality and state of the art and the least she could do for the man who was giving her a place to stay. Plus, it was twenty percent off, which made it worth it. She moved to the selection of coffees suggested for the machine she’d chosen, taking a variety package of pods, paid, and went back outside. “Thank you.”
“Like I said. Your dime.”
She bobbed her leg up and down, filled with excitement as the cab traveled down Highway One. She’d always loved doing this—surprising people with little gifts…or big gifts in this instance. At least, she used to love doing that.
Hopefully Stone would like it. They were about to find out.
She grinned, looking at the lights on in the house and Stone’s car parked in its spot as the taxi pulled into the drive. She paid the driver and wrestled her huge bags inside, moving as quietly as she could, setting everything on the card table while Stone hammered away at something in one of the other rooms.
“Stone,” she said quietly as she peeked down the hall, thrilled when he didn’t respond. She pulled the present from the box, wanting to set up everything before he realized she was home.
~~~~
Stone double-checked his measurements and sent his knife through the panel of drywall. He tapped his pencil against the sheetrock in time with AC/DC’s drummer, studying the two-by-fours he planned to cover with the piece he’d just cut. He sniffed the air, frowning when he caught a whiff of coffee. He sniffed again, figuring he was jonesing for a good cup, though he typically only craved his caffeine jolts when he first woke up.
Shaking his head, he picked up the slab of drywall and set it down just as quickly when he breathed deep again, certain the scent of fresh brew wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He pulled the buds from his ears and started down the hall, listening as the refrigerator opened and closed. “Soph?”
“In here. I’m in the kitchen.”
“What are you doing?” He glanced at his watch, wondering why the hell she was making coffee at almost seven thirty. She didn’t drink the stuff, and he only guzzled two cups in the morning. He stepped into the room. “Why are you making—”
“Surprise!” She whirled, grinning, cradling one of his ugly mugs in her hands.
He stared at the stunningly hot woman smiling at him. What did Abby do to her? Her hair was different—much shorter. And her eyes were so pretty and huge. She looked incredible.
“Do you like it?”
How could he not? Her clothes fit perfectly, showcasing her sirens body. Every inch of Sophie looked sensational. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Her smile widened as she stepped closer to him, stopping almost toe-to-toe. “I was hoping you would. I saw it in the flyers last night. I wanted you to have it.”
He frowned, unsure of what she meant, then realized she was talking about the coffee maker on the counter and steaming cup in her hands.
“It’s top of the line. It’s supposed to make some of the best brew on the market. Here.” She handed him the mug. “I know it’s getting late and you’ll never sleep, but maybe you could just try a little.”
He took the cup, holding her gaze, unable to look away from the hypnotic violet.
“Go ahead,” she encouraged.
He sipped, groaning at the intensely robust flavor of excellent beans. “Damn, that’s good.”
She snagged her glossy bottom lip between her teeth. “Really?”
He sampled again. “Really. Taste for yourself.” He held the cup to her lips.
She dutifully sampled and wrinkled her nose. “Strong.” She shuddered. “Ugh, too strong.”
He grinned. “Just the way I like it.”
“I imagine someone has to.”
He grabbed her chin, needing to touch her soft skin. “You and Abby were busy.”
She gripped his wrist as they stared in each other’s eyes. “Yes. She and a couple of her friends at Lily Brand gave me a makeover.”
“I guess they did. You look good, Soph.”
“Thanks.”
He let her go, but he didn’t want to. “Thanks for the coffee maker.”
“You’re welcome.” She took a step away, sliding her hair behind her ear with a jerky swipe. “Do—do you want dinner? It’s late but I could make something quick.”
He’d made a sandwich an hour ago, but Sophie was bound to come up with something a hell of a lot better. And he wouldn’t mind sitting next to her hearing about her makeover deal, especially if he could make her smile at him the way she had when he walked into the room. “I could eat.”
“I was thinking of beef and broccoli.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
She nodded. “Let me put away my stuff and I’ll get to it.”
He looked at the piles of clothes, cosmetics, and shoes on the table. “Jesus. Did you buy out the stores?”
She smiled. “It certainly looks that way, but no.”
“I guess I better get some closets built.” He grabbed dozens of hangers poking through garment bags. “Let’s find a place to hang this stuff in the meantime.”
She snagged a bagful of hair and makeup supplies and another bulging with shoes. “You don’t have to help.”
He glanced over his shoulder as they made their way down to her bedroom. “I do if I want beef and broccoli sometime in the next century.”
She flashed him another smile. “You do have a point.”
They stepped into her room, and he hung everything on the now sagging rope he’d strung across a couple of the posts in the makeshift space. “God, I’ll never understand why women have to have so much stuff.”
She crouched down, taking the pairs of shoes out one by one—sandals, high heels, and boots—and set them by his feet in neat rows. “Because it makes us look nice.”
He trailed his gaze over her pretty backside. “I guess I can’t argue with you there.” He grabbed some contraption from the makeup bag. The packaging said it was an eyelash curler. He set it down with a shake of his head. “I imagine that’s where the whole ‘beauty is pain’ thing comes in, right?”
She laughed as she looked up at him. “Yes, I imagine so.”
He offered his hand, realizing that was the first time he’d heard that light sound.
She took it, standing. “How about dinner?”
“Sounds good. I’ll help.”
“You don’t have to.”
He didn’t, but he wanted to, which was new. Cooking wasn’t his thing. He lifted her hand, studying her fancy nails. “I’ll chop stuff. We don’t want you ruining these.”
She chuckled. “My hero.”
“Come on. I’ll save the day.” He pulled her from the room, not bothering to let go of her hand along the way.