She did her makeup very carefully, taking it a little softer with purples and deep gray. She wore her black jeans and a soft, off-the-shoulder blue sweater that made her look slightly more approachable than her other clothes. It was probably the most feminine thing she owned, and hopefully that would put Jenny and Eve at ease.
Stealing a look out the front window, she saw that Cole’s truck was still missing from the driveway, and wondered if it would be safe to sneak over to the saloon to ask Rayleen about a bakery.
But if Cole were at the saloon… The thought made her stomach lurch. She didn’t want to see him. The very idea of seeing him left her cold with dread.
That decided it. She wasn’t going to hide in her apartment all weekend, afraid of him. Afraid he’d try to explain. Afraid he’d reveal more and make it so much worse. She didn’t want to know. She just wanted to escape.
But if she was going to be here for another week or two, she’d have to face him.
Brave words, considering his truck wasn’t outside.
Grace grabbed her makeup kit and walked outside before the fear could take over again. “You taking your show on the road?” Rayleen shouted as soon as Grace walked in.
Grace shook her head as she walked to her aunt’s table in the corner. “Do you ever leave this place?”
“Not unless I have to.”
The chair in front of Grace slid an inch as if Rayleen had moved it with her foot.
“Am I allowed to sit down?” Grace asked. Rayleen shrugged as if she didn’t care, but the chair scooted out a little more, so Grace sat.
Rayleen nudged the kit Grace had put on the floor. “What’s in the toolbox?”
“It’s my makeup kit.”
“You working tonight?”
“No, I’m going over to Jenny’s. She wants a makeover.”
“Oh,” Rayleen muttered. “A girl’s night, huh? Poker would be better.”
“Maybe.”
“Are you good with that makeup stuff?”
“I’m pretty good,” Grace answered.
“Yeah? Well, I know your grandma’s proud of you.”
That surprised her. First, that her grandmother had said that. The only thing she’d ever said to Grace about it was that L.A. wasn’t a safe place for a young woman on her own. Second, she was surprised that Rayleen would repeat it. “Thank you for telling me.”
“The last time she visited, she brought two movies and made me watch the whole damn credit reel after each one, just because your name was there. Silliness, I say. You get paid for your work. I don’t see why you have to get a written thank-you, too.”
“She did that?”
“Sure. Damned obnoxious.”
Her grandmother wasn’t as hard as Aunt Rayleen, but she wasn’t exactly the kind of granny who baked cookies and offered them with an indulgent smile. She was supportive more than loving, and worried more than affectionate, but maybe that was how she showed love.
How did Rayleen show love? With insults? With muttered complaints? Was that even possible?
Rayleen seemed to be done talking, so Grace finished her drink and stood. “Okay, I’d better head over to Jenny’s. Can you recommend a good bakery that’s not too expensive? It’s Jenny’s birthday in a couple of days. And Eve’s, too.”
“The one at the small market is all right. Next to the park.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
She shrugged again.
“Have a good night, okay?”
Rayleen just grunted, and Grace headed out and down the block, grateful the bakery wasn’t very far.
Using the last of her spare cash, she picked out a girly-looking cake that already said Happy Birthday in purple frosting. Not Grace’s style, but it did match her hair.
She walked slowly toward Jenny’s place, hoping the walk would calm her nerves. And it did, despite the fact that every time she heard the engine sound of a big pickup she worried it was Cole’s truck. It never was. So Grace relaxed.
The sight of the pretty bakery bag in her hand made her happy. And the story Rayleen had told about Grandma Rose…that helped, too. She wasn’t as alone as she sometimes felt. And tonight she wouldn’t be alone at all. By the time she climbed the stairs to the condo and knocked, her nervousness had been left behind somewhere, lost on the streets of Jackson.
“Hey, girl!” Jenny shouted when she opened the door. She hugged Grace one-handed, the other hand occupied with holding a glass of red wine. “I’m half-drunk already. Eve drove, so she’s insisting I drink one of the bottles by myself. The other one’s for you.”
“I did not insist!” Eve called. “I said it was an option.”
Jenny snorted. “Option, shmoption. Time to get beautiful!”
Laughing, Grace let herself be pulled in. She held up the bag. “Happy birthday, ladies. I brought cake.”
“Oh, my God!” Jenny squealed. “Cake! I love you!”
Grace felt heat climbing up her cheeks and quickly changed the subject. “Okay, if we’re going to do hair color, we should do that first. Before makeup.”
“But not before lasagna,” Jenny insisted. “Or cake. Or wine!”
Eve groaned as she took a seat at the small kitchen table. “I should’ve taken the bus.”
“You can always spend the night. I only have a double bed, but after a bottle of wine, I bet you won’t mind cuddling.”
“No, I’m fine with my two-glass limit.”
“Oh, I’m just kidding. You can sleep on the couch.”
Eve laughed, her cheeks turning as pink as Grace’s had felt a moment before. “I’m honestly no good with alcohol. The last time I got drunk, I got sick on my stairs. If there’s anything worse than being hungover, it’s being hungover and having to clean up vomit.”
Grace gratefully accepted the very full glass Jenny offered. “I can’t imagine you drunk,” she said to Eve. “You’re so dignified.”
“I’m just quiet and boring. Dignified is a trick us boring people pull.”
Grace eyed her for a moment. “Are we coloring your hair?”
“Oh, God, no. I’d feel too conspicuous. People comment on that sort of thing. I hate it.”
“I’ll ask you again after the wine. I’d love to—”
“No,” she insisted. “Absolutely not.”
“You can do me any way you want,” Jenny said as she picked up a big plastic bag and began pulling out boxes of hair-coloring kits.
“Oh, my God.” Grace laughed. There was now an impressive row of boxes on the table. “How many do you have?”
“Nine. No, ten. Don’t laugh! Every once in a while I get brave and tell myself I’ll finally do something different, and then I get home and pull my hair back into a ponytail and go to work, and that’s it. I chicken out. Plus I bought two more today. What do think?”
“Well…”
Jenny set the lasagna on the table and passed out plates while Grace moved the boxes around.
“Definitely not the browns. You’ve got a great skin tone for your natural blond. But this one…” She pushed forward a gorgeous, warm blond permanent color. “Maybe with a few lowlights with this coppery one.” She moved another box toward Jenny. “That might be amazing.”
“Really?” she asked, bouncing up and down on her toes. “You think so?”
“Yes. Do you have good scissors?”
Jenny slapped a hand to her long hair. “Why?”
“I’ll just trim the ends. Then we can color it and straighten it. You’ll look amazing.”
An hour later, half the lasagna was gone, the cake had been massacred, Eve had given in and started her third glass of wine, and Jenny’s head was deep in the kitchen sink as Grace washed the dye from it.
“This is so exciting,” Eve said. She picked up a box of chestnut-brown and eyed it wistfully. “I can’t wait to see it dry.”
Grace wrapped Jenny’s hair in a towel. “That one’s a temporary color, you know. It only lasts six weeks. It would just add some shine a
nd a little depth to your natural color.”
Eve put the box down.
“Come on. You’re a photographer. You know how amazing a little color depth can be. Let’s do it. It’s six weeks. No big deal.”
“I don’t know.”
“Do it!” Jenny shouted. “Do it, do it, do it!”
Eve refilled her wineglass, even though only half was gone. “Okay. Fine. Yes. Let’s do it.”
Jenny screamed so loudly that Grace was worried her neighbors would complain. Then she decided maybe they were used to it.
“Come on,” she said to Eve. “Head in the sink, then.”
Grace was just putting the last of the color into Eve’s hair when someone knocked hard on the door. Maybe the neighbors had complained, because that sounded distinctly like the unforgiving knock of a policeman’s fist.
Apparently Jenny was a good enough person that she’d never heard that knock, because she breezed over with her wet hair and a smile and swung the door wide open. And revealed a sight more alarming than the police.
Standing in the doorway, scowl already in place, was Aunt Rayleen.
“Good Lord,” Rayleen barked, looking from Jenny to Eve. “I thought she was supposed to make you look better. You ladies look like a pair of drowned rats.”
“Sweet as ever,” Jenny announced.
“I am sweet. I brought you the sunglasses you left on the bar yesterday.”
“Oh, thank you.” Jenny took the glasses, but Rayleen didn’t give up her post.
“Why’s your hair wet?”
“Grace colored it.”
“Hmph. Some normal color, I hope.”
Grace had been too shocked by her aunt’s arrival to know what to think, but as Rayleen craned her neck to see in, Grace realized what was going on. Jenny seemed to see it at the same time. She tossed a helpless look toward Grace.
Did she want Grace to find a way to get rid of her boss? Or was she asking permission to let Grace’s great-aunt crash the party? Knowing that Rayleen had dug up an excuse and walked all the way over here in the hopes of being invited in… Grace might be tough, but she couldn’t be cruel. Not to this lonely old woman.
“Want a glass of wine, Rayleen?”
“Maybe,” she barked. “But you’re not getting your crazy hands on my hair.”
“Okay. I’ll leave your hair alone. Promise.”
Sorry, she mouthed to Jenny once Rayleen had settled in at the table.
“Hell, I’m drunk,” Jenny whispered. “The more, the merrier. I’m going to go dry my hair for the big reveal.”
Grace was just finishing up towel-drying Eve’s hair when Jenny started to scream. Grace’s heart dropped, and Eve actually looked as if she might start crying. But then Jenny leapt from the bathroom and screamed again. “Oh, my God, it’s beautiful! I love you, Grace Barrett! Look at it! Look at my hair!”
Grace laughed. Jenny’s hair did look beautiful, shiny and textured and warm. But it was a subtle change for such a strong reaction. Still, when Jenny threw herself into Grace’s arms, Grace hugged her back. Hard.
“I want to dry my hair,” Eve said calmly, but she gave up her solemn look when Jenny grabbed her hand and dragged her into the bathroom. They were both giggling madly.
This felt like…high school. But the best part of high school. The kind of girl parties you saw in movies. The kind Grace had scoffed at in disbelief, because her teen parties hadn’t been lighthearted at all. They’d been about forgetting. And treading the line between danger and despair.
“Good Lord Almighty,” Rayleen muttered. “That girl screams like a monkey on fire.”
“Yeah,” Grace agreed, but she couldn’t make it sound like a criticism. She could only wish she had that kind of joy. Maybe Rayleen felt the same, because she fell silent.
Grace joined her at the table and shuffled through the remaining boxes of hair dye. There was a deep walnut-brown that caught her eye. It was almost her natural color, just a little darker and richer. When was the last time her hair had been that shade? A year ago? No, two years ago. Before she’d met Scott.
Back when she’d been…happy? Was that possible? She’d had her own place, her own car. Merry had been in Texas already, but Grace had had a few friends. People to go out with. People to laugh with at work.
Then she’d been with Scott for a while, and that had been fine. But it had felt off, somehow. She’d felt confined, even as she’d sunk deeper into it. She’d made her hair darker, then added bleached layers. Then more black. Then pink and red and finally purple. Going wild again, as she had in the years before. A small rebellion against growing up. Against giving in. Or giving up.
“Ta-da!” Jenny called, sweeping back through the door.
Eve’s response was more subtle, but she was beaming. Jenny had dried her hair straight, and the length shone beneath the lights. “I love it,” she said simply. “Thank you. So much.”
“Let’s do makeup now,” Jenny said, clapping her hands. “I already feel like a new woman.”
“Okay,” Grace agreed, but then she looked back to the box in her hand. “But… Would you be willing to wait a little while? I think I’m going to change my hair up a little.”
“But your purple!” Jenny said.
“It’s starting to fade. These bright colors only last a few weeks.”
Rayleen snorted. “Good riddance!”
“Well.” Jenny sighed. “I suppose it’ll be fun to see you with nonpurple hair. But maybe you’ll dye it another wild color for me sometime.”
“For you?” Grace laughed.
“Yes! You take all the risks, and I’ll enjoy pretending I’m marginally involved.”
“Okay. Deal. Let me get the color on my hair, and then I’ll start your makeup. It’s going to take a while for this brown to set anyway.”
By the time she sat down at the table to do Eve’s makeup, Grace had lost even the memory of being nervous. And doing makeup relaxed her even more. All her unhappiness faded, receding until it was only the faintest background buzz in her mind. She couldn’t even credit it to the wine. She’d been too busy to do more than sip hers, unlike everyone else in the room. Even Aunt Rayleen had cracked a goofy smile or two.
Knowing Eve would be horrified by anything garish or even glamorous, Grace used a light hand with her makeup. Tinted moisturizer and translucent powder paired with a hint of warm pink on her cheeks and lips. She dusted her eyes with a neutral sand color, then smudged an espresso-brown shadow along her lash line. Finally, she used a light coat of mascara and darkened her brows with pencil.
With a smile, she turned Eve around to look at herself in the full-length mirror Jenny had brought from the bedroom.
“Oh,” she said softly, her eyes widening. “Oh, my God. How do you do that?”
Jenny clapped. “You look so pretty!”
“When I put on my own makeup, I look like a clown!”
Grace laughed. “Just use neutral colors. Your skin is amazing, so you want to brighten it up a little, not cover it.”
“My turn!” Jenny squealed. “Do mine like I’m going to a party. I want to look like a sexy beast! Or, you know, as close as I can get to that.”
“You’re plenty sexy.” Grace laughed, then shot Rayleen a glare when the woman snorted.
Fifteen minutes later, she turned Jenny around with a flourish. “Ta-da! Sexy beast, as requested.”
Even though she braced herself for Jenny’s squeal, she still wasn’t ready for it. Amazingly, the mirror didn’t shatter, though Grace’s eardrums trembled.
“Look at my eyes!” she screamed. “Oh, my God, will you show me what you did?”
Grace gave her a quick demo, showing her how to brush a medium color nearly all the way up to her brow to disguise the fact that her Scandinavian eyes didn’t have much of a crease. “Then a lighter color here, just beneath your eyebrow.”
“I look so hot! We have to go out, ladies. We have to. I’ll never look like this again.”
&nbs
p; “Yes, you will. You can do your makeup exactly the same way. I’m not a magician. It’s just powder and cream.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Finish your hair. We’re going to the saloon! I want to show off to all the people who normally see me covered in beer stains after an eight-hour shift.”
Grace quickly rinsed her hair and dried it, surprised when it turned out almost exactly as she’d planned. The black layers were still there, but the browns were deeper, and the purple was now a dark auburn-brown.
She carefully applied her own makeup, taking special care as she changed it to enhance the new hair color. Instead of blacks, she chose deep browns that made her eyes look softer, and a pretty pink lip gloss.
When she was done, she packed up her makeup kit and wiped down the counter. But she didn’t open the door. Instead she took a deep breath and looked at herself. She looked almost pretty now. Younger and softer. More like her natural self and less like an angry warning. She looked like a girl who might try to fit in if she found the right place.
It was scary. She felt stripped of her armor. Exposed. What if she saw Cole?
A terrible thrill coursed through her, and she glared at her reflection. She wanted him to see her like this. Wanted him to think she was pretty. How weak was that? How pitiful?
But it didn’t matter. Good for him if he thought she looked pretty. He’d just have to live with wondering whether he’d really known what kind of girl she was, after all.
Reaching for the doorknob, she hesitated for another long moment, then took a deep breath and opened the door.
This time, the girls didn’t scream. They just stared in openmouthed shock.
Rayleen recovered first. “Well, look at that. Maybe you’ll stop scaring off my customers now.”
Jenny pressed her hands to her mouth to try to suppress a squeal. It didn’t work. “You look so pretty!”
“Thanks. Are we ready to go?”
“Look at you!” Jenny continued, undeterred. “Oh, my God. Cole is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.”
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