Page 44 of Icing the Enemy

Marisol grins at her reflection in the mirror. “I can’t believe how different I look. I love it.”

Removing the black drape from her neck, I agree that I’ve transformed her from looking like every other twenty-something girl with long, straight hair into an edgy work of art.

She stands, twirling around to see the back as her friends gasp in unison.

“Thank you!”

“Is this what you want me to do for your audition?”

She responds, “Can I send you a picture of my outfit and see what you think?”

Sure, and for the first time, my phone can receive an image. Corbin. I’m starting to not hate him because of his thoughtful gift. We need to text. He can’t call during practice. I can’t call while doing someone’s hair.

“Yes, I think this will be perfect,” I say excitedly. “During the song at some point, you should put on a cowboy hat. Or start with it.”

“Okay, I’ll see you Saturday.” She hands me thirty dollars in cash, and I think I’ve made a lifelong client. Except I’m not going to be doing hair anymore.

I settle up with Jennie Rae and go home with two hundred fifty dollars so I can pay the air conditioning bill. On my way home, I remember that Corbin has prepaid my utilities, whichmeans I can buy a new bathing suit. I make a detour at the mall near me. It’s not upscale, but it has one major department store.

One new white bikini.

Then I go home, pack an overnight bag along with Dixie’s food and kennel.

On the way to Corbin’s, I think to myself, Corbin is going to have to pick his tongue up off the floor when he sees me in this bathing suit. And why do I care? Because I want him to know what he’s missing. We shared an amazing kiss at his friend’s wedding, and he’s letting the unfortunate decision I made to take his truck interfere with all of the good we had going on.

He meets me in the driveway, immediately letting Dixie out of the car who jumps up on him with her tail wagging. And it doesn’t stop. The thing is whipping back and forth like a flag in Chicago.

“Hey, girl. Did you miss me?” Dixie can’t get enough of his face. He lifts from his crouched position and says, “Let’s help your mama get everything inside.”

“Can you grab her kennel?” I ask.

He grabs the kennel with one hand, then removes the strap of my overnight bag from my shoulder, and carries them both inside. Corbin Shearer, hockey star, is a true gentleman, which probably means he’s vanilla in bed. I snicker, and he glances back, “What?”

“Nothing. I just can’t believe I’m going to be living here in a few weeks.”

Since he’s opening the door, I can’t see his face, but I hope he’s happy about having me here. We may not be in a romantic relationship, but it may be nice to have someone around to talk to other than Dixie, even though she gives the best advice.

“Do you want the kennel in the living room or bedroom?” he asks.

“Bedroom.” I’ve brought one of my towels to put in her cage, so she’ll smell me while we’re gone. Dixie follows him up the stairs, and I pad around the first floor, snooping.

Opening drawers.

Running my fingers over the pillows.

Picking up pictures from the tables.

When I hear the pitter-patter of four little feet and the pounding of two big ones, I hide the frame behind my back.

“You’re all set. Now, can I have my picture back?”

Red faced, I stumble over my words, “Sorry, I was just…”

“Stealing my frame,” he completes my sentence as amusement dances in his eyes.

“No,” I stutter, trying to come up with an excuse. “Just admiring your large family.” He takes the photo from my hand as he shifts his eyes between me and the frame.

“They would drive you crazy.”

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