Page 45 of The Kitchen Contract

“C’mon, be a good sport.” He grins. “After all, not every girl has a viral video with twenty thousand views in the first twenty-four hours. Besides, I thought you were starting to get excited about your new look.”

“I am excited,” I tell him truthfully. Once I had time to wrap my head around it, the idea held a lot of appeal, and of course I’m thrilled with the views, which have continued to climb over the last few days. “I’m just not sure I should have let you video the process.”

What I don’t say is “in case it doesn’t turn out well” because the stylist is standing right here and I don’t want to tick her off while she’s still working on me.

“We don’t have to use any of it if you don’t want to,” he tells me, stopping the video and dropping his hands to his lap. “I just thought we should document this in case we do want to include a bonus clip. I think people would like it, but we won’t post anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Thank you.”

The stylist folds the last foil and pats my shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, hon.”

When I texted Alex yesterday to tell him we hit our target only a single day after upload, he immediately volunteered to accompany me to the salon. I hadn’t seen him since that day in my apartment when he’d unpacked all his past relationship baggage over breakfast, and I was more eager to be around him than you would expect after only three days of separation.

My leg bounces anxiously as I wait, hoping for good results.

Please let this turn out well. Please don’t let me look like a Muppet.

I wonder how long would be an acceptable amount of time to wait before dying it back to the blonde color it was before if it looks awful. We should have made a contract for this, too, so that we are both on the same page about expectations here.

Alex leans forward, sensing my nerves. “Would help if I let you dump that ice water on me even though you lost the bet?”

“You mean the bet you made for me without my prior knowledge or consent? Now that you mention it, yes, I think that would help tremendously.” If nothing else it might reinforce the lesson about not springing things on me.

“Done. After this we’ll go to my house, I’ll sit on the edge of the pool, and you can film me getting an ice bath. We’ll include it as a bonus for our overachieving viewers since they did such a good job getting us to our goal.”

I grin mischievously. “Throw in a scoop of mint chocolate chip and that sounds like a party to me.”

Alex laughs. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll cook you dinner before I feed you ice cream.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “Sounds delightful.”

I can’t wait to see what he makes. It’s amazing how quickly he’s picked up cooking and baking with just a little instruction. He’s a natural in the kitchen, a diamond in the rough who was just waiting for someone to polish him a bit. One thing I’ve learned about Alex is that he responds really well to compliments and praise. I get the impression that he doesn’t receive much of that from anyone else, not that he’s complained about it. I’m not sure he even realizes how much he craves those words of affirmation.

The good news is that I’m happy to supply them for him. Watching him light up when I say something nice about him is a reward all on its own, so I make it a point to watch for things to applaud.

“I think the moment of truth is at hand.” Alex nods toward the stylist weaving her way in our direction through the forest of salon chairs.

“Alright, hon, let’s get you finished up.” I follow the woman to a wash station where she removes the foils and rinses my hair. She puts me in another chair, making a point to keep me turned away from any mirrors as she blows my hair dry. That part takes a while because of the length and thickness, and I wonder if I should have told her to take a few inches off while she was working on me.

Finally, she tells me to close my eyes and spins me around to face the mirror. When I open them, I gasp softly. My light blonde tresses are now intertwined with delicate lilac highlights, all of it shiny and soft looking as it falls in waves around my shoulders. My eyes cut up to see Alex’s reaction, and my body fills with warmth at the expression on his face. He looks mesmerized, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes roaming over me. Slowly his mouth tips up in a soft smile.

“Do you like it?” I ask.

His reply is husky. “I love it, Rose.”

Another glance in the mirror confirms that my cheeks are growing pink, and I press my hands to my face to cover it.

“What do you think?” Alex asks. “That’s the most important question.”

“I think I’ve never looked more…me. Is that weird? That probably doesn’t even make sense.” I run my fingers through the waves, turning my head to look at the color from different angles.

“It’s not weird. That color suits you. That’s probably why it’s your favorite.”

My eyes meet his again. “How did you know that’s my favorite color?”

He smirks. “I pay attention.”

“Well, now I feel bad. I have no idea what your favorite color is.”

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