Accidental Makeovers

by Carol Maloney Scott

  I grab the rest of my stuff for the night and head over to Brandon’s. A quick practice and then we’ll be at the show. It will suck not to have Bianca in the audience. I scroll through my phone and see I have a text from Amber.

  Shit, I already forgot about her. Last night I was feeling like I might be ready to move on, but after hearing the earful Diamond gave me later in the evening, I am more convinced than ever that I need to get Bianca back, and not give up so easily.

  But in the meantime it wouldn’t hurt to go on a few dates. I won’t use this poor girl, but who knows if she’ll even like me. She’s also on the rebound. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little companionship and make a new friend. Maybe she’d like to come see the band and meet more new people. She’s probably having a tough time, being newly separated with a little girl, and we’re a fun crowd.

  You really can rationalize anything if you try hard enough.

  I text Amber and tell her I plan on giving her a call to get together during the week, when we’re both kid-free.

  All of my plans feel rock solid, but I can’t think about women anymore right now, unless it’s the ones watching us perform tonight. Brandon said he has a big announcement for us, and I have a feeling it’s going to be life changing.

  I bang out a tune on my steering wheel as I turn into Brandon’s neighborhood. Yeah, things are looking up. Bianca will want to be a part of it, and the beauty of it is that I won’t have to tell her a thing, and she’ll know it all.

  I also plan to ask Claire if her sister can refer a realtor. That’s right, I am also about to acquire some property. I’ve saved up a bunch of money, and eventually my beautiful girl will realize that there was a method to my madness all along.

  I park behind Brandon’s minivan. A minivan. That’s where I draw the line. I mean, I want to provide and be a family man, but I don’t want a woman carrying my balls around in her purse.

  Speaking of that…

  “Hi, Claire.”

  “Hey, Max.” She says this slowly as she touches my arm. She looks like she’s going to cry. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. From the look of it outside, the gang’s all here, right?”

  I smile to show her I’m fine as I begin to weave my way to the kitchen…and the door to the basement studio. Of course I almost trip over the two silly wiener dogs on the way.

  “Duncan and Dixie. Stop it!”

  “They’re fine. You guys are just excited when people come over, right?” I bend down and pet their heads, feeling Claire’s eyes on me.

  She wrings her hands and frowns. “I didn’t want to say anything the other day, at the hospital, because Bianca was there. But I’ve been worried about you. Have you been eating and sleeping okay?”

  “Claire, I wasn’t diagnosed with a deadly disease. It’s just a breakup. There are other women out there. Really, I’m fine.”

  I open the basement door and she offers a weak smile. “Okay, well have a good practice.”

  As I descend the stairs I hear, “Where the hell is Max? I wanna hear this news.”

  As the group comes into view, I see Zoe bouncing around like a little girl.

  “I’m here. So what’s the deal?”

  “Hello to you too, Max.” Brandon’s mocking cheeriness can be nerve grating.

  Or maybe I’m on edge, and everyone’s behavior is irritating me.

  “Oh, don’t start one of your little douchebag wars, just tell us the news.” Zoe is still bouncing away. It’s a good thing she’s not big on top…she’d smack herself in the eye.

  “Wait, where’s Jon?” How can he make a big announcement without Jon being here?

  “He’s with Cassie. She came home from the hospital today. Both sets of grandparents are visiting. As much as I think he’d love to escape, he’s not going to make it.”

  He again becomes quiet and looks down at his shoes. I think it’s the writer in him that makes him this dramatic. “And actually because of my news, I think Jon will probably need to be replaced.”

  Everyone starts talking at once and now Brandon yells, “Okay, quiet. No, Cassie isn’t forcing him to quit the band. He doesn’t think he can commit to…well, the big news.”

  He takes a deep breath and I swear if he doesn’t spit it out…

  “We were offered a pretty big gig.”

  “How big?” Rob is finally paying attention now that the drama has subsided.

  “Well, you know a little band called Vengeance?”

  “Obviously. What, they want us to be their roadies?” Rob cracks up and slaps Zoe, almost knocking her off her stool. He pats her head in apology, and she sticks out her tongue.

  “No, my big, bald friend. We have been asked to be one of their opening acts at their upcoming show in Philadelphia.”

  “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Now Zoe is dancing and twirling like those two nutty dogs upstairs.

  “For real? You’re not shittin’ us?” I tend to agree with Rob here. How is this possible?

  “I swear. A guy I went to school with knows their promoter. We reconnected on Facebook not too long ago, and he’s been following Chain on our page. One of the bands on the tour dropped out for that weekend, and they need an opening act…we’ll be the fourth band in the line-up. But still it’s amazing because the other bands are Apocalyptic Curse and Poison Angel.”

  “Oh my God!!! Poison Angel? They are the most rocking girl band in the world! Jasmine Nightshade is my IDOL!”

  Rob finally grabs Zoe by the shoulders before she falls over from excitement. “Jesus, calm down, woman. This is so fucking cool. So when is the show?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. It’s in three weeks, and Jon is out.”

  “What are we going to do for a bass player?” I attempt to inject a little reality into this crew. We can’t find a new bass player and get him ready for a huge show in a few weeks.

  “That’s the problem. I can play bass and sing, but it’s not ideal. Do you guys know anybody?”

  “Ooh, I do!” Jumping up and down and raising her hand, Zoe shrieks, “Axl can do it.”

  Rob shakes his head and says, “What are you talking about? You don’t know Axl Rose.”

  “Bro, Axl Rose is not a bass player.” And Bianca thinks I’m clueless.

  “I know that, but who the fuck is Axl?”

  We all stare at Zoe and she suddenly gets quiet. “Well, he’s my boss, actually. His family owns the tattoo shop.” Now she’s twirling her hair. I can guess what’s coming next. “And he’s like, sort of my boyfriend now.”

  “Really? You’re dating Axl? Since when?” Brandon is always protective of the women in our circle, especially Zoe. She’s like our little sister.

  “Since a couple of months ago. I haven’t told anyone, not even any of the girls. I really wasn’t sure where it was going—”

  “But now that you think he can solve our problem, it’s going somewhere? And he’s perfect for Chain?” Brandon looks skeptical, and I’m inclined to agree. Just because she’s sleepin’ with a guy with a rock star’s name, it doesn’t mean he’s qualified to join our band.

  Zoe ignores the further probe into her love life and says, “He’s a great bass player. He used to be in a band, but he quit when his parents needed someone to run the tattoo shop. But we have lots of employees, so he has a flexible schedule.”

  “And what happens when you dump this guy? Because we all know you women are quick to dump—”

  Rob interrupts with, “Let’s leave your problems out of this. If you had done the stuff Diamond told you to do—”

  “Okay, time out! Too many arguments going at once. Zoe, if Axl is as good as you say he is, let’s get him in here. What’s he doing right now?”

  Zoe and Brandon start exchanging more information on Axl, and I amble over to the fridge to grab a beer.

  Rob lifts his bottle up in a toast. “To new beginnings, huh? This way you don’t have to worry about Bianca being mad about this, too. I wonder what Claire said whe
n he told her.”

  “Bianca would have been fine with it, but now she’ll be jealous that she’s stuck with a stupid day job, and business meetings with some smug schmuck in a suit.”

  Zoe stops hopping around and says, “Wow, try to say that ten times fast.”

  Bianca

  Well, here I am. I found a spot on a side street so I didn’t have to park in the deck and pay ten bucks, and end up having to mace a creep in the stairwell.

  I straighten my skirt, adjust my bra straps and double check to make sure I have my phone. Not that I’m expecting any calls. It’s a nervous habit, and for some reason I’m very nervous.

  I don’t know why. Eric and I had a nice lunch last week, and he explained the job and my responsibilities. I wish I didn’t feel like I need to keep trying to sell myself. I wonder if he was a woman, or less attractive, if I would be so jum…

  “Bianca, you look lovely. So glad you could make it on such short notice.”

  Eric appears out of nowhere while I’m playing with the contents of my purse. I borrowed one of my mother’s bags. I don’t have any expensive, designer purses, but I think this one is a knockoff anyway. At the very least, it’s old, but I doubt Eric is aware of the latest handbag trends.

  “Hi, Eric. Thanks for inviting me. I guess we should go inside now.” No, really? Let’s stand on the sidewalk and stare at each other like weirdos some more.

  “Of course.”

  Eric opens the door for me and I tentatively step into Woodman’s. I don’t know what I’m afraid of. They just serve food here. I know how to eat in a restaurant. I haven’t been stranded in the jungle since birth and recently integrated into society, like Tarzan.

  Eric walks right up to the host and announces our arrival. Quickly we are whisked away to our table. No one will move until I start walking. I absolutely hate walking with anyone behind me. I am self-conscious enough tonight. It’s funny how I never think of any of these things when I’m out with Max, but we’ve been together for a long time. I mean, we were.

  As the host seats us and hands me a menu, I stare at the ten trillion bottles of wine that fill the wall behind the bar. I could really use a drink tonight, but I am not much of a wine drinker. However, I can hardly swig a hard cider out of a bottle in this place. Hmm, I wonder if drinking is even appropriate, since this is a business meeting. I would think so. People drink at dinner meetings, don’t they?

  Eric thanks the host and reaches for the wine menu. “Do you like wine, Bianca?”

  I am momentarily distracted by the way he’s staring at me. Not in a creepy way. More like an admiring way.

  “The color of that dress is stunning on you. Did you get that locally? I know, one of the boutiques in Washington Hill. Wait, don’t tell me.” He snaps his fingers. “Moda Coqueta.”

  Okay, I guess he does know fashion. How does he know what clothes are for sale in women’s boutiques? Maybe he was shopping for a gift recently. I don’t want to pry. He’s not wearing a wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t involved with someone.

  “One of my exes used to love that shop. You know that means ‘flirty fashion’ in Spanish, right?”

  One of his exes? Does he mean ex-wives? Anyway, none of my business.

  “No, I didn’t know that, but I love the shop. The woman who runs it is great. I don’t buy much in there, though.” Yes, please tell him how poor and destitute you are, Bianca.

  “Well, I think that’s about to change. But we’ll get to business shortly. I thought we could enjoy our meal and get to know each other a bit more, and then we can talk shop. Sound good?”

  “Sure, sounds great.” I cross and uncross my legs under the table.

  “So, wine is good? I thought I would wait until you select an entrée before I choose, though?”

  Truthfully, I don’t drink much at all anymore. Not since I got pregnant. That’s more than two years ago now. Max and I used to drink a lot, especially after shows. The combination of drinking and poor birth control execution is the reason I got pregnant, but Max and I have become much more responsible. Hmm, did I just say Max was responsible? Strike that from the record.

  “Wine is fine, and I trust you to choose for us.”

  Eric keeps looking at me, and I realize I never answered his question. And that he has beautiful eyes. Last time we met we were outside, and the lighting in here is making him look even more handsome. Unusual eye color. Almost grey, and his hair is very dark, almost black. “Oh, I’ll have steak.”

  Eric smiles and says, “Okay, but they have a lot of different steaks here, so why don’t you look at the menu while I order some wine. Do you like Clams Casino for an appetizer?”

  “Yes, that sounds great.” I feel like a wind up doll, being so agreeable, but I also don’t want to be difficult, and all his suggestions do sound good.

  Eric orders the wine. I honestly don’t even know what kind or where it’s from. I do know that it will be red, since we’re ordering steak. I know that much. Claire drinks wine, and she’s not a stuck up snob. I probably should expand my horizons a bit, especially since the clientele at the salon is so affluent.

  The wine steward brings the bottle over for Eric’s inspection, and after he does the sniffing, swirling and tasting thing, I am finally able to get some alcohol into my system.

  “So Bianca, I notice that you’re not wearing the ring…you know, the one in your nose.” He points to his own nose to illustrate what’s missing from my face.

  I touch my own nose and say, “Oh yeah, my septum ring. I took it out. I don’t wear it all the time.” Yes, I do. Except on catering jobs.

  “I hope you didn’t do that on my account. Raven selected you for this job the way you are. There is no need to try to change to fit in. The women at the salon are going to love you. Both the clients and your co-workers.”

  Eric raises his glass. “To a prosperous partnership.”

  I clink my glass gently against his. These glasses probably cost a fortune.

  “Last time we talked business the whole time, and I apologize that I was pressed for time. Lunch meetings can feel so hurried. I work on a number of other business holdings for the Alexander family.”

  “I understand. You must be very busy. Have you lived in Richmond long?” I sip my wine and I have to admit, it’s pretty good. It’s most likely because it costs ten times more than any wine I’ve ever had before.

  “No, actually. I’ve only been here a few months. I was in New York for a few years. LA before that. And a small stint in Chicago right after college. I went to the University of Chicago. Finance major. Then I got my MBA…wow, I am so boring. You didn’t come here for my resume. Tell me about you, Bianca. You mentioned you had a little boy.”

  I brighten at the mention of Mick. “Yes, Mick. He’s sixteen months old. But I have no problems with child care.”

  Eric places his wine glass on the table and leans forward. “Bianca, this isn’t a job interview. I’m just making conversation. Are you really uncomfortable here? Because if you are, I’ll tell them to throw the steak in the dumpster out back, cork this wine and we can grab a hot dog from the stand on the corner.”

  I laugh and I think I may be blushing. What the fuck? He’s right. Why am I letting him and this stupid restaurant intimidate me?

  Just as my confidence is beginning to return and I sit up straighter, Eric says, “I know what might help.

  He starts taking off his tie. I really hope he’s not stripping in Woodman’s. He removes the silky fabric from around his neck and tosses it under the table. Then he wiggles out of his jacket, which he also tosses on the floor, and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt.

  “Okay, you should probably stop now. The people at the next table might think you’re one of those strippers that perform at bachelorette parties.”

  He laughs and bends over to pick up his jacket, placing it on the back of his chair. Next his head disappears beneath the table, and he’s under there a moment longer than nec
essary to retrieve his tie. Is he flirting or being funny to ease my tension?

  And I do have some tension, that’s for sure. Max and I weren’t exactly humping like bunnies, even before he left, and now it’s been a while.

  Eric emerges from under the table. “Nice shoes. So where were we? Oh, yes your little boy. So is your husband excited about your new job? You didn’t mention much about him when we met for lunch.”

  I see his eyes casually dart to my hands. I’m sure he already noticed that I’m not wearing a wedding ring. Now I can add unwed mother to the list of my insecurities, but I don’t think Eric will judge me. It’s 2016 and he can’t be more than ten years older than me. I glance at his chest and it’s smooth and muscular. He’s very fit, but not in that gargantuan style of Max and Rob. But he could definitely throw me over his…

  Flustered, I jump and reply, “I’m not married. Mick’s father is in the picture, though. I mean, we’re not together but he sees Mick. A lot.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. But good that he’s involved with his son. I’m sure he’s a great guy if he captured your attention, even if only for a short time.”

  “Well, actually we have…had been together for several years. On and off. Now we’re off.” They need to bring some food so I have something constructive to shove in my mouth to make it shut the fu…

  “Oh, so this was a recent breakup? I’m sorry to hear that. This is a lot of change for you all at once.” He notices my glass is empty, and motions to ask if I want more. I nod and he refills my wine.

  Finally, the waiter comes by with the Clams Casino. I realize that I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything since before the wedding reception this afternoon.

  “It is a lot of change. Long overdue change. I love my friends and family, but I need to expand my circle, especially beyond the band.” Oh, now he’ll want to know all about that.

  As we devour our appetizers and the wine keeps flowing, I tell Eric all about the band, and Max, and my mother, and growing up in Richmond. He’s such a good listener. He pauses every once in a while to ask a probing question, but not in a nosy, judgmental way.