Page 37 of Call it Reckless

“Maybe you should try something harder, like Metallica or Disturbed or some old classics like The Grateful Dead.” Reid ignored my elbow to his ribcage as he tried to smother his laughter.”

Beverly looked horrified. “The who?”

He nodded. “Yeah, they might work, too.”

Beverly and Earl had confused expressions on their faces.

“Never mind.” I tried to stifle my own amusement. “Good luck to you.” I grabbed Reid’s arm and pulled him away before he could suggest something else.

“You’re terrible,” I told him.

“Come on. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t want to hear a little heavy metal coming from Beverly Seymour’s house.”

“It would definitely be a day for the history books,” I said, making us both laugh.

CHAPTERTWELVE

Bristol

“Ican’t believe I let you rope me into this,” I muttered as I set out some snacks and bottles of water.

Paige had gotten wind that Miss Pettigrew’s locally famous cotillion was to be held in Vista, a sizeable town in the valley that had a large hotel with banquet halls. Paige put out the offer to help do the hair of the girls who would be attending, and the response had been enthusiastic. As a result, Miss Pettigrew herself, the epitome of manners, invited us to stay for the dinner afterward.

Wanting to do some shopping the next day, we chose to stay overnight and rented a suite that would allow us to have plenty of room to work with the girls as well as a place to sleep.

“Just remember,” Paige answered under her breath as we heard the first knock, “this is excellent marketing.” She smiled brightly as she swept open the door. “Good afternoon, ladies. I hope we haven’t kept you waiting very long.”

I smiled and refrained from commenting that they were fifteen minutes early. Paige was much better at schmoozing than me. All her experience with uptight stars and hectic schedules was paying off now.

We had a constant stream of girls throughout the afternoon. It surprised me there were still enough families interested in Miss Pettigrew’s school. But I guessed she was a kind of icon around here, and families from several counties sent their children—boys and girls-- in the hopes of learning skills that would carry them through to successful careers.

Apparently there was a need, because the school had also expanded to include classes for adults to assist businesses who wanted their employees to polish their interactions with others.

But today was all about the children, specifically the girls who wanted to have their hair done up to go along with their formal dresses. So here we were, or rather, here Paige was, to use her talent to help. I was here as her assistant. She put me in charge of organizing the schedule and wrangling the girls and their moms.

Paige appeared unaffected as she opened her wheeled cart full of brushes, curling accessories, and hair sprays.

Three hours later, I thought I would die from asphyxiation due to so much hair spray being in the room. My face was tired from all the smiling I did over gritted teeth as I greeted people and pointed out the snacks that I constantly refilled.

For the few who only wanted some big curls, I parted sections of hair, sprayed, and rolled them on the big curling iron just like Paige showed me, while she curled and twisted more elaborate updos. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but I enjoyed seeing the smiles on the girls’ faces as they turned their heads this way and that in the mirror.

The young ladies were kind and polite, successful products of the extra schooling. And most of the parents were, too. But a few moms could have benefited from some of those adult classes. At one point, I worried a catfight would break out when two of them discovered their daughters had chosen the same white dress.

“Are we in the right place?” asked a deep voice that stood out among the feminine giggles and conversations. I thought for sure my imagination was playing tricks on me because it sounded familiar.

All the moms acted as if they were of one mind. Their heads swung toward the door, where Reid and his daughter stood. Conversations lulled, smiles widened, backs straightened, and eyelashes batted.

I rolled my eyes. Sure, he was an extremely fit and good-looking man. Sexy. But they were married women with daughters in the same room.

Blue eyes glanced around the room before latching on to mine. His shoulders relaxed as if he were relieved to see me.

“Bristol. I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said as he approached.

“It’s surprising the places I pop up.” I winked at him and smiled at his daughter. “You’re Lexi, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. And you’re the lady who saved the dog, right? At the grocery store?”

“Something like that anyway.”

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