Desire and a Bottle of Merlot: (Like Sisters Series Book 5) Chick Lit: A Romantic Comedy

by Bria Marche

  “I’ll have a bowl of the chicken dumpling soup and the half sandwich. Make it a roasted turkey on wheat, please.”

  “Sure thing, more coffee, ma’am?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Tina arrived in Rochester at the City Center Suites at eleven forty-five. She checked in, found her room, and cracked open a mini-bottle of Merlot. She plunked down on the bed with a sigh after pulling back the bedspread. I know I heard somewhere to never sit on hotel bedspreads—too many disgusting things could be lurking on them. She poured the tiny bottle of wine into a plastic bathroom cup and situated herself comfortably on the bed, her back supported by two pillows against the headboard. She pulled out her manila folder and looked over the schedule for the next few days. She was thankful that the first event the next day was only a meet-and-greet breakfast at nine in the morning. Her first presentation wasn’t until one o’clock and would take place downstairs in the grand ballroom. All of the expo events would take place right in the City Center complex, making the next few days much easier on her.

  The expo moved along quickly. Each day Tina hosted or watched new product demonstrations and browsed what seemed to be miles of booths. The latest in clothes, hairstyles, haircuts, and body art was on display. Tina was amazed by the tattoos and piercings some of the stylists had. High-fashion models strutted all day on make shift catwalks, showing off the latest fashions from New York and Paris. Crazy cult looks, ranging from Goth to full-body art and body modifications, were down the very next aisle. A good portion of the expo was tame, and that was where Tina and Vic’s Hair Brained salon fit in nicely. Being at the expo in the flesh, seeing and experiencing what other salons brought to the table, made Tina feel ordinary and slightly dull. Even her own look was far from the edgy look most of these stylists wore. Reality check… ugh! Who would have thought we were that boring? Tina promised Sasha she would bring home the latest hair products for her to try. Maybe we can add some of those new edgy products to our line if Ms. Destiny, former glamour model, approves of them.

  Tina lay in bed Sunday night, sipping on a glass of wine, as she described the expo over the phone to Vic. She read the descriptions of five sample products out loud. They agreed to sell Scrunch Sauce for the best bed-head look, and Manic Mousse for thicker, fuller, shinier hair. They planned to use the new shampoo and conditioner samples on their clients to get some feedback before they decided whether to stock the products.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to call you again until I’m home,” Tina said.

  “Why the hell not? Did you already make new BFFs in one day?”

  “No, but they’re definitely a wild bunch. Too bad you didn’t come with me. Anyway, like an idiot, I forgot my phone charger. The stupid thing was sitting on Jennifer’s desk with the folder of papers. Obviously, I grabbed the damn folder but not the charger. I really have to go easy on the calls. Let everyone know I didn’t forget them—I just need to save whatever juice I have left for the drive home.”

  “Okay. I better let you go, then. Talk to you when I talk to you. Out.”

  The crowd of new faces at the event was a welcome relief for Tina. Dinner Monday night was at an upscale downtown restaurant with a group of crazy hairdressers and salon owners. The night ended with a few drinks at Eddy’s Tap. Raised eyebrows and whispers among the locals were enough to send the blazing-ombré, black-and-yellow-bumblebee-streaked, colorful-cornrowed, and bald beauticians into fits of laughter as they downed shots of Jack Daniels.

  Tina took note of the group, realizing how plain her style was compared to these wild women. I couldn’t pull that look off in Tarrytown—I’d scare the old ladies away. She smiled, thinking about the flaming-skull tattoo on her calf. That was the wildest thing Tina had ever done in her life. But what good is it when I haven’t shown it to anyone? She closely studied each of the six women she sat with. If they didn’t have crazy, colorful hair, they had sleeve tats or multiple piercings. These are big-city girls. They’re expected to look that way. Some of it looks like fun, though, I’ll admit. “Do any of you have presentations lined up for tomorrow?” Tina asked. “I’d be happy to volunteer for a cut or color.”

  Maria Gomez seemed to be the ringleader of the group. She looked young, maybe in her mid-twenties, but had vast amounts of knowledge of the hair and fashion industry. She wore a long black-and-pink braid and sported a killer body, looking as though she spent hours at the gym every day. “I do. I have a reverse golden sombré to teach the newbies at eleven o’clock. Actually, the stylist that was going to volunteer is trying to back out anyway. She has her own presentation to do, and there isn’t much time between sessions for her to set up her booth. I could let her off the hook if you really want to do it.”

  “Sure. I don’t have anything lined up until five. I mean, I could use an edgier look, couldn’t I?”

  The six women nodded in agreement and grinned with anticipation. Maria poured another round of Jack. They clinked shot glasses together and toasted Tina’s upcoming new style, which would begin at eleven o’clock the next day.

  ***

  Breakfast had been moved to a smaller conference room since the grand ballroom was filling up with displays, exhibits, and presentations. People dressed to the nines, or barely dressed at all, lurked around every corner. They searched for easy prey, trying to draw people to their booths like barkers in a carnival sideshow. Customers waited in line for hours to have their skin permanently inked by the best tattoo artists. Body parts were being pierced behind privacy curtains in the next booth, five feet away. Blondes were now brunettes, and redheads were transformed to raven heads to show off their darker, mysterious side. The typical helicopter mom left her child with the babysitter for the day to come here and shop for black-studded Spandex pants. And Tina? She was going sombré at eleven.

  Do I dare do more? Tina giggled to herself at the thought of something so bold as she walked the aisles. I could get a tiny stud in my nose, or even a henna tattoo on my hand. That isn’t permanent. I can’t get a sleeve tat because Sasha and Mia would kill me—I’d look like a freak at the wedding—but they’re so damn cool. I could get one on each wrist, making them look like bracelets, though. That’s kind of wild. I’ll ask Maria what she thinks.

  ***

  Maria bustled about, setting up her booth with all the necessities to do a reverse golden sombré on Tina. She checked the time—10:47 a.m. Through squinted eyes, she scanned the floor for Tina. The fluorescent lighting was killer, causing harsh reflections to bounce off the exhibits in the enormous ballroom. Oceans of people milled about. They caused jams and bottlenecks in the aisles as they weaved in and out, stopping to watch demonstrations.

  Maria saw Tina approaching, trying to get through the congested traffic of bodies. Finally reaching Maria’s booth, Tina plopped down in the styling chair with a sigh.

  “Holy crap, I can’t believe how many people are here. It’s insane.”

  “Yeah, but great for business. Do you only want the color or the whole enchilada?”

  “I don’t know. What’s the whole enchilada?” Tina was giggling with excitement already.

  “I could give you a crazy cut, too, something to really show off the reverse sombré color. You know, choppy golden-blond on top, turning into long, darker sides and back. I’d give you bangs too, so the color contrast really pops.”

  “Sure, why not? I’m game. I really love your sleeve tats, Maria. They must have taken forever to do.”

  “Yeah, they were really a process. You have to go back a number of times and keep adding to them until the arms are completely filled in.”

  “What do you think of just cuffs, one on each wrist?”

  “That sounds pretty rad. I like it, and you can always add to it later if you wanted to. Is that something you might do?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I’d like to do it while I’m here, to be honest with you. It would be fun to surprise my friends back home with the hair color and tats.”

  “Well,
if you’re serious about it, you better get an appointment set up. Actually, Bobby Mack is here. He did my sleeves. He’s one of the best. I bet he’d squeeze you in if you told him I sent you. Better yet, let me call his cell before I get started on your hair. I’ll set up the appointment for you. I hope you’re tolerant of pain because tattoos hurt. So, will any time after your presentation work?”

  “Yes, tonight is perfect, and I already have a tattoo.” Tina pulled up her right pant leg while Maria was on the phone, setting up a six thirty appointment for her with Bobby.

  “Why do you have something that cool covered up? You should be showing that badass thing off, girl.”

  “I only brought pants along,” Tina replied, shrugging.

  “That’s so boring,” Maria whispered. She began preparing the hair color as she explained to the audience what a reverse sombré was. “You know, there’s dozens of fashion houses here. If I were you, I’d spend the afternoon shopping for something a little more expressive, especially once you see the finished results of my magic. What you’re wearing is not going to compliment the hip hairstyle and color you’ll be showing off two hours from now.”

  ***

  Tina sat back and relaxed, feeling special—catered to, in a way—as Maria colored and cut her hair. Giddiness crept up her throat until an accidental squeak of anticipation popped out of her mouth. After all, a crowd of people had gathered, and all eyes were on her and the transformation coming her way. Maria reminded her of Vic, flamboyant and confident in her hair-magic abilities. A "before" picture of Tina was displayed on the large computer screen at Maria’s booth. At one o’clock, the transformation was complete. Another picture was taken and uploaded. The before-and-after photos were shown side by side on the split screen. The reverse golden sombré color and cut had turned tolerable Tina into a vivacious vixen. The audience pointed at the computer screen and nodded with approval. Hands clapped, and Tina blushed with delight.

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about, young lady.” Maria smacked Tina on the back and released the Velcro tab that had been holding the cape tightly around her neck. A quick spin of the pink swivel chair turned Tina around to face the oversized mirror. A gasp sounded as she leaned forward, studying her new appearance closely. Her medium-brown hair was gone. The top of Tina’s head had light-blond hair, which faded into golden-blonde then became darker at the ends. She had bangs, or as Maria would say, “fringe.” Her hair was shorter in the back, the top was choppy, and the ends were straight. Her head looked like a mixed-up mess of awesomeness. She wasn’t sure if she could ever replicate the look, but in this moment, she was definitely a hottie, and that was what counted.

  “I can’t believe this is me! I’m thirty-three friggin’ years old, and I’ve wasted my life looking ordinary when I could have looked like this. I’m as hot as hell, and I had no idea it was even possible. I’ve got to go—it’s time to shop.” Tina gave Maria a kiss on the cheek. “I owe you, sister. Stop by Bobby’s tattoo booth later. I’ll buy dinner afterward.” Tina gave a little curtsy and giggled. The group of bystanders, still applauding, complimented her as she disappeared into the crowd. I need to find a short skirt or dress to buy. I’m going to wear it later during my presentation. That way, I can show off my flaming-skull tattoo. My hair looks hip, and now it’s time for the rest of me to catch up. Tina walked through the crowd with her head held high. She felt a little bolder and more confident than before. The large sign hanging from the rafters on the other end of the ballroom showed her where to go. She headed, with a laser focus, to the aisles where the latest fashions were displayed.

  Later, with two hours of shopping for the latest affordable styles in clothing and a pair of ankle boots under her belt, Tina raced back to her room to try everything on. Two short dresses, cinched at the waist with daring décolletage necklines, made Tina feel as though she actually had breasts to show off. Tiny, tight skirts and short midriff tops that barely reached her navel—matched up with short boots sporting six-inch heels—made her swoon. She hoped she wouldn’t fall off of them and snap her ankle. Sexy, flirty, and hip were the adjectives she thought of as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She turned in every direction to check how she looked from the front, side, and back. The flaming skull on her calf seemed to grin with approval. I can’t believe this is me. I can get any man I want now—that is, if I want one at all. Maybe it would be better to just have guys lust after me. I wouldn’t have to commit to anyone, so I’d never get hurt.

  With her teeth brushed and more makeup applied, Tina zipped up one of the short dresses and slid on the boots. She had just enough time left to grab a snack and be on her way.

  The presentation she was hosting that afternoon was to demonstrate which hairstyles best flattered round, square, oblong, and heart-shaped faces. After the presentation, she sat at Bobby Mack’s booth to have cuff tattoos inked on her wrists.

  “Nice tat,” Bobby said as he admired the flaming skull. “That looks like Bubba’s work.”

  “You guys know each other? That’s amazing. I love his place although I’ll admit it does have a scary, sketchy feel to it.”

  Bobby’s eyes narrowed before he let out a loud laugh. “Bubba happens to be my brother. So, you’re saying the skull is your first tattoo. Otherwise, you’d know that most parlors are kind of sketchy looking.”

  “Well… yeah, but now I’m hooked. The problem is I don’t want to scare off my loyal customers who happen to be over seventy years old.”

  “Yeah, I get that. Tattoos have come a long way in the last ten years though. People don’t necessarily associate them with scary biker trash like they used to, unless it’s a fine young lady, such as yourself, just getting her first tattoo.” Bobby laughed again, this time a full-belly guffaw that echoed down five aisles.

  Tina’s face flushed as she looked around. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad by it. Anyway, can you make the cuffs just a mix of flowers? That might ease some of the fear from my geriatric clientele. I better shy away from devils and grim reapers if I want to hang onto my older customers.”

  “No problem. How wide do you want the cuffs?”

  “Let’s go crazy. How about three inches each?” Tina’s eyes bulged at her own audacity.

  Bobby grinned. “We’ve got a live one here, folks. Stick around—she’s going to look pretty radical when this is done.”

  By nine o’clock, most of the booths were shutting down. Vendors packed up their wares and secured the booths with tarps. A few stragglers milled about while most people headed toward the exits. Bobby had one flower left to fill in on Tina’s right wrist before the cuff was complete. He dabbed at the tiny beads of blood with a gauze pad while the tattoo needle hummed up and down. A purple accent tint in the iris center completed the second cuff.

  “All done, Tina,” he said as he washed her forearms with anti-bacterial soap. He dabbed A&D ointment on her new tattoos and bandaged her wrists. “I hate to say it, but it looks like you tried to do yourself in. If you’re going out, I’d suggest you wear something long sleeved over the bandages. Make sure you take them off first thing in the morning though. Those tattoos have to breathe and dry out. Only cover them when you think it’s necessary.”

  “Thanks, Bobby. They’re so beautiful. I’m really happy I went ahead with the cuffs. Everybody back home is going to be shocked, but it’s time to quit being so ordinary and get a little wild.”

  “Are you ready, Tina?” Maria stood waiting next to Bobby’s booth. Tina pulled two neatly folded hundred-dollar bills from the inside pocket of her wallet and handed them to Bobby, thanking him again. Dinner downtown and a few drinks at Eddy’s Tap were next on the list.

  ***

  Tina proudly, but carefully, removed the bandages just to show the people at Eddy’s. Her new group of friends nodded in approval of her edgy appearance. They toasted her changes with several shots of Jack Daniels.

  Wednesday morning, Tina woke from a fitful night’s sleep. To
o many dreams filled her head. Her personal desires in life had conflicted with each other, and a battle had ensued in her dreams. She sat of the bed’s edge with pounding temples. Those dreams must have held some meaning, didn’t they? What is it I really desire in life? Do I want a man, or the freedom to be myself and do whatever I want without criticism? Can’t I have both? Tina looked down, remembering her bandaged wrists. My tattoos! She gingerly removed the bandages and inspected the flowered cuffs permanently inked on each wrist. She broke into a full-blown happy smile. She raced into the bathroom to check her hair after a night of sleeping on it. I still look pretty good even with bed hair. I think I can manage this style, after all, without too much trouble. I’m going home today as a new and improved version of myself, at least in my opinion.

  Tina said her good-byes after breakfast with the gang, promising to come back the next year with Vic in tow. One more lap around the entire ballroom, mixed with shopping and sample collecting, and she was ready for the long journey home. Tina took the elevator to the sixth floor, the doors opening and releasing her to wide, floral-carpeted hallways with wallpaper borders along the ceiling. Three doors down the hall to the left was her room. A pot of coffee brewed in the small coffeemaker while she packed her bag. It’s going to be a long drive. I’ve got to be wide-awake and fully alert. Tina knew that with the lack of restful sleep she’d had last night, it would be wise to drink the entire pot before she checked out. Facing the Genesee River, she stared out the window as she drank her coffee from the thick paper cup. She wondered what kind of reaction she would get from everyone when she got home. Will they scoff at me, thinking I’ve gone off the deep end, or will they think I’m going through an early midlife crisis? With any luck, they’ll like my look as much as I do. I wonder what Dan will say. My new style might be way too edgy for him. She glanced to her left. The clock radio read 10:46 a.m. Checkout is at eleven. I’ve got to call for a bellman to bring up a cart.