“I like your sandals.”
Pris looked up in surprise to find Billie watching her. “Thanks, sweetheart,” she beamed.
“Your toes look pretty. Guess that’s why Carole-Ann wanted to match your shade yesterday.” She still wasn’t meeting her gaze, but Pris was touched that the teenager was trying to reach out to her. “I like your nails too, did you do them yourself?”
Billie nodded, glancing down at her own short nails. They were neatly painted a dark iridescent blue and she had small crystal stones dotted at the base of her nails. “They don’t do funky shades in here.”
Bettina snorted. “Blue nails make you look like a drowned corpse in my book!”
“Do you want to be a manicurist Billie?” asked Pris with interest.
“Don’t know,” she replied, so quietly that Pris could scarcely hear her.
“Billie, don’t forget you need to wash down the sinks,” said Bettina loudly. “You’re not paid to skulk around talking.”
Billie’s lips compressed into a thin line and she retreated with a scowl as the bell rang above the door and the first customer wandered in. It was Mrs Peterson for a cut and blow-dry with Lois. She was closely followed by a Louella Parsons who came in for a pedicure with Bettina. They both exclaimed over getting a complimentary latte courtesy of Pris and then settled down for their appointments with their eyes firmly trained in her direction.
“No sir, never would have seen that Hunt boy settling down anytime soon,” said Mrs Peterson in a loud voice as Lois tied her hairdressing gown over her outfit. “You ask me, those long-distance relationships are just a lot of nonsense.”
Both women turned to Pris expectantly. She cleared her throat. “Well, Jared and I have been seeing each other for three years long distance,” she said lightly. “It seemed time to move to the next step.”
“You mean commitment?” asked Louella curiously. “It’s all so different nowadays. Everyone seems to do things back to front!”
“Now, now,” said Lois. “She got a ring on her finger now, don’t she? ‘Sides, if you ask me, a bitter old divorcee, rushing into something ain’t always the right way to go.” She winked at Pris over Mrs Peterson’s head as she ran the comb through the older woman’s hair.
“There’s truth in that,” conceded Louella. “Though it ain’t the shifter way.” She took a tentative sip of her coffee. “What kind of coffee you say this was?”
“It’s a latte, Ms Parsons.”
“Hmm, well it’s not half bad. Not bad at all. You gonna get one of those fancy machines, Bettina?” she asked hopefully.
“No, I am not! You can put that idea out of your head right now,” exclaimed Bettina who was lowering her foot into a basin of water. “I got enough darn overheads running this place as it is, without adding in fancy-schmancy drinks machines!”
“My daughter-in-law, Janice,” put in Mrs Peterson. “She goes to one of those fancy salons in Fernice where it’s all part of the service.”
“I’m sure she does,” sniffed Bettina straightening up. “She’s the one who drives around in that white convertible, isn’t she?”
“That’s her,” agreed Mrs Peterson. “Len says she’s ‘high maintenance’. That’s what they call stuck up nowadays,” she said nodding her head.
“I don’t think your Brody minds none,” said Louella sotto-voiced. “He’s proud as punch of her.”
Mrs Peterson rolled her eyes. “He mated her on their second date!” she said scathingly. “And been mad-crazy for her ever since! Nothing’s too good for her!” She tsked and shook out her magazine.
“You want to see crazy-mad you should have seen Jared Hunt when he followed Pris in here this mornin’” said Lois with a smirk. “He could hardly tear his eyes from her. I wondered for a minute if he’d even bring himself to walk on out the door and leave her to our tender mercies!”
Five pairs of eyes swiveled to look at Pris as she blushed.
“Well if you had a rouge that color, I’d buy a pot in a heartbeat,” said Louella dryly.
“Guess you’ve had him wrapped round your finger for the past three years,” said Bettina. “With him panting after you like that. It’s a wonder you don’t have the mating mark. You refuse him, girl?” She looked curious.
Mrs Peterson laughed. “You see anyone refusing a mating mark from Jared Hunt?” she asked incredulously.
“Maybe she wasn’t ready,” blurted Billie taking everyone by surprise. “If he really likes her, he’d wait, wouldn’t he?” Her cheeks turned pink and she turned back to scrubbing the sink.
“Not in my experience,” snorted Mrs Peterson. “But as Louella said. Things are different nowadays, I guess.”
Pris finished tidying away the beauty products with her lips pursed. She wanted to fit in, but she wasn’t going to answer one hundred and one questions about her love life. And she was new to this shifter stuff, or at least she couldn’t remember much. She had no idea about mating marks, or if Jared even wanted her to have one. To mask her uncertainty she drifted over to the low table where a bunch of well-thumbed women’s magazines lay. They weren’t as poor as Amos Tucker’s selection, but were still pretty uninspiring. She leafed through a few looking for advice on colorings and thinking of Carole-Ann’s fair washed out complexion with its scattering of freckles. According to this article her skin came under the 'fair with yellow undertones’ category and needed help to bring out the peaches and cream. She finished her coffee and then glancing at the clock found it was ten minutes to ten already. She decided that Carole-Ann would definitely have a doughnut so she opened the pack and then offered them to everyone. Lois and Billie both said they would eat theirs on their break. Bettina and Louella said they were watching their figures, but Mrs Peterson accepted one with glee and then slyly asked Bettina if they would be providing ‘elevenses’ in the future, earning another eye-roll from the owner.
At four minutes to ten Carole-Ann breezed through the door in jeans and boots and a stretched-out grey sweatshirt.
“Ready to turn this face into a knock-out?” she asked wryly, before flinging herself in Pris’s chair.
“Am I ever,” answered Pris. “Can I get you anything before we get started? I’ve got a doughnut for you, but that’s for after your transformation. I’d offer you a latte, but there’s only one lukewarm one left…”
“I’ll take it,” said Carole-Ann. “I’m not fussy.” She eyed the other patrons while Pris fetched her drink. “Mrs Peterson, Louella,” she said with a nod. “What’s up? How’s it hangin’, Lois?”
“Oh, I’m just peachy, darlin’,” answered Lois with a lopsided grin. “How ‘bout yourself?”
“Could be better,” admitted Carole-Ann and took a sip of the coffee before settling back in her seat. “Where’s Billie? At college?”
“She’s out the back emptying the bins,” said Bettina. “How’s that nail polish holding up?”
Carole-Ann spread her fingers as Pris sampled the foundations on the back of her hand to match the skin-tone. “Still looking good.” She glanced down at Pris’ toes. “It’s not a bad match.”
“I told you, this brand’s good,” said Bettina with satisfaction. “Good quality.”
“I think this one’s you. Dusky peach,” Pris turned Carole-Ann’s hand toward her. “What do you think?”
“Near as damn it,” she conceded.
“Do you have anything on your skin?”
“Just washed my face and slapped my moisturizer on,” she gave a thumbs up. “We’re good to go.”
“Okay, so what I’m going to do is apply primer first to act as a barrier between your face cream and your make up,” Pris showed Carole-Anne the tube. “It basically preps your skin and make it a good surface to apply your foundation to.”
“Kinda like when you paint a wall?” asked Carole-Ann.
“That’s right,” agreed Pris after a moment’s hesitation as Bettina and Louella burst out laughing. “It makes sure the texture’s even and makes
it last longer so I’d say the principle is the same.”
“You ever used a face primer, Bettina?” asked Louella as the older woman applied the base coat on her nails.
“Nope,” responded the other woman shortly.
Pris smoothed the product over Carole-Ann’s face. “This Matinee primer actually has a really nice feel,” she said in some surprise and returned to the tube for some more. “It’s hypo-allergenic too so it should be good with sensitive skin.”
Carole-Ann grunted. “That’s good. Us redheads can be a little on the sensitive side.”
Pris eyed Carole-Ann’s hair which was once again bundled in a scrunchie on the back of her head. “It’s a beautiful shade of red,” she said. “Like a titian. You wear it loose much?”
“Hardly at all,” admitted the other woman. “I just put it up out of the way. I ain’t much of a one for styling my hair. Never learned how.”
“It’s never too late,” suggested Pris, darting a look over at Lois. “It looks quite thick. You ever think of having it layered to make it more manageable and frame your face more?”
“Uh-uh.”
“You really should find a way to make it work for you and set your face off, honey.” Said Lois, around her mouthful of clips. “After all, isn’t a woman’s hair meant to be her crowning glory?”
“Corinthians,” put in Bettina looking up briefly from her nail painting.
“Never seem to really have the time,” shrugged Carole-Ann.
Pris, turned back to find the foundation she had selected. “Would you like me to use a brush or fingers to apply?” she asked.
“What do you usually use?”
“Fingers actually,” admitted Pris. “I find it blends better, plus it’s more economical as you don’t use as much. Then I use a brush to blend.”
“Do that.”
“Okay,” She started to apply the dusky peach to Carole-Ann’s face, adding dabs to both cheeks, her nose, chin and forehead.
“Keep talkin’ me through,” said Carole-Ann. “I sure could use the tips.”
Pris smiled. “Sure. This is how I always do it,” she smoothed the foundation out from the T-zone until she had even coverage and then took one of the brushes from the stand and started to carefully blend around her face. “Okay, so what I’m doing is making sure there are no noticeable lines where your foundation starts or ends so I’m going to pay special attention to your jaw and hairline.” After a few minutes with the brush she swiveled the chair so Carole-Anne could see the effect. “This is your base.”
“Base?” asked Carole-Ann wryly. “I’m usually a one-stop shop.”
“Not today,” Pris warned her. “Now we’re going to contour.”
Carole-Ann’s eyebrows shot up into her hair. “We are?”
“Yes indeed.”
“How do we do that?”
“First, we pick two more foundations in a nice dense stick form,” she gestured to the display stand. “Like these.”
“Two more?” echoed Louella. “Girl, you’ll give her cake-face!”
“No ma’am,” disagreed Pris. “Want to know why? Because we are not applying these to her whole face. We are simply putting in light and shadow.” She returned to select the two additional foundation sticks. “We need one two shades darker and one two shades lighter than Dusky Peach. Here we go,” she turned them over. “The darker one is Honey Child and the lighter one is China Doll. First I’m going to apply the darker shade.” She ran the make-up stick along Carole-Ann’s temples. “You have a broad forehead so I’m taking this right into your hairline. Now, we need to bring out those gorgeous cheekbones. We find the hollows underneath and then trace the stick just above this point. Like that. With the nose, we can use the shade to either shorten, lengthen or make wider. You have a nice, straight, practically perfect nose so I’m only going to add a little to narrow the tip. Like so.” Reaching around to unwrap and wet a beauty blending sponge, she found she had a rapt audience in the rest of the salon. Glancing back at Carole-Ann’s stripy face she guessed they were all waiting for her to fall flat on her face! Well, too bad as she had already decided that Carole-Ann was going to look a million dollars! Carole-Ann had broad high cheekbones, a generous mouth and really quite striking, wide set sherry eyes. With mounting excitement Pris realized she really could pull this off.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” asked Carole-Ann with interest.
“It’s a blending sponge. I’m going to use the wider end to blend it into your base foundation now.” She got to work, moving the sponge in wide circles as she worked the shade in at the brows, cheekbones and nose. “See how it adds definition?” Then she replaced the darker stick and took up China Doll. “Now we’re going to light you up with some highlighter,” she said. “To work in contrast with your shade. We add this to the center of your forehead, the under-eye areas, the bridge of your nose, and your chin. And then, we blend this in. Also with the blending sponge.” She took her time over the contouring and Carole-Ann was now completely relaxed in the chair. “And now I’m going to apply a little concealer just where you need it…”
“You gonna put the concealer on over the top of her foundation?” asked Bettina incredulously, plunking one hand on her hip.
“That’s right,” answered Pris firmly. That was the way the artistes had done it on YouTube so she knew it was right! “Now you see you have a couple of dark spots,” she said pointing them out in the mirror to her client. “We are going to add some concealer to those too. Any blemishes that need a touch up get a little concealer. Then I blend that right in too.” Carole-Ann’s eyes followed her progress carefully in the mirror. “If we need to, we can add a little more foundation now to make sure we don’t have any color disparity.” She applied a little more liquid foundation to illustrate her point and then worked that in. “There we go.” She took a step back and surveyed the result. “Now we just need to fix it by applying the setting powder.” She turned back to her product display and selected a matte powder. “This is translucent and just stops your foundation from sliding right off as the day goes on.” She broke the seal on the powder box and selected another brush to dust over her face.
Carole-Ann blinked at her reflection as Pris stepped back to survey her face. “Looks kinda like you photo-shopped me,” she said slowly.
Pris laughed. “I guess it should have an airbrushed effect,” she admitted.
“Let’s see,” asked Mrs Peterson who was now sat under an old-fashioned hood dryer.
Pris swiveled the seat so Carole-Ann faced out toward the others.
There was an audible gasp.
“She never had those cheek bones before,” gasped Louella.
“Oh yes she did,” answered Pris. “They just needed a little emphasis."
“Do you sell all this stuff?” asked Carole-Ann suddenly, as if waking from a trance.
“Yes honey, we do.
“Brushes too?”
“We stock all these Matinee products,” said Pris darting a glance at her employer and getting an emphatic nod of agreement.
“I’ll get you a price list,” said Bettina. “Just as soon as I’ve finished applying this top-coat.”
“Yeah, I think you should do that,” said Carole-Ann.
“This is actually a really nice quality line,” said Pris truthfully. “But if you can’t afford to buy it all at once, I can recommend which items you can substitute with drugstore equivalents till you can.”
“Will you come with me to buy them?” asked Carole-Ann bluntly.
“Sure,” agreed Pris. “I’d be glad to.”
Carole-Ann surveyed her thoughtfully. “Now, you I like,” she said. “I don’t care what anyone else says.”
“Ah…Thanks,” answered Pris, a little startled.
“I speak as I find,” answered the other woman with an emphatic nod.
“Bettina, is there any eye-primer in this range?” asked Pris, getting back to work. She’d scoured the unit, but couldn’t
see any.
“Any what now?” grouched the older woman. “What in the world you need separate primer for the eyes for?”
“To keep the eyeshadow in place and from sliding off in the heat or if the eyelid creases,” explained Pris patiently. “I want to really load up the brush and go to town with the shimmer and color on Carole-Ann's eyes.”
“That always happens to me,” piped up Mrs Ames. “My daughter-in-law bought me some of that cream eyeshadow - expensive stuff. And all it does is end up in the crease!” She clicked her tongue.
“Is that so?” asked Bettina with grudging interest. “That's a new one on me.”
“Now, do you have any preference about how you want your eyes, honey?” she asked Carole-Ann. “Or do you want to just put yourself in my hands?”
“I’m leaving it up to you,” said Carole-Ann promptly.
“In that case,” mused Pris tapping her bottom lip. “I think I’ll go with the classic smoky eye.” She hesitated. “Carole-Ann, how attached would you say you are you to your eyebrows?”
Carole-Ann blinked. “Well, they’re fixed to my forehead, but I don’t have any particular strong feeling about ‘em.”
“Okay, so what I would like to do is neaten and shape them and then show you how to fill them in as they’re so pale and I think they would suit you darker.”
“Go ahead,” said Carole-Ann flinging out an arm. “If you think it’ll make any difference.”
“Honey trust me, It’ll make a whole lot of difference,” Pris assured her as she selected an eyebrow pencil and started gauging and marking where the brow should start, where its natural arch was and where the tail should angle toward. Then she repeated with the other brow and stood back to make sure they matched perfectly and then adjusted her eyebrow pencil marks until she was happy. “Now, we’re going to need to fill these in with a pencil two shades darker than your natural color,” she explained. “But first I’m going to tweeze away the stray hairs until we have the shape defined,” she bit the side of her lip. “How sensitive are you?”
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