Page 21 of Edge of Secrets

But things changed. The battle had come to me. My choices were fight or run.

I was not running. Not this time.

I went into the salon, sniffing nervously at the unfamiliar scents of perfume, shampoo, chemicals. A slight, balding Latino guy with a gray pearl earring gave me a big, toothy smile. “What can I do for you today?”

“Do you take walk-ins?” I asked.

“When I feel like it.” His dark eyes narrowed as he assessed me from head to toe. “I happen to have room on my schedule this morning. Looks like it was meant for you. What do you have in mind?”

“Ah, well. I’m not really sure,” I said apologetically. I gestured at my head. “Just not, you know. This.”

“Hmmm. Yes, I can see why you feel that way. This is going to be fun. Get into the chair, and let’s have a look. I’m Riccardo, by the way.”

I was soon in a swiveling chair, swathed in a plastic cape, and Riccardo’s expert fingers were plucking out hairpins, unraveling my hair, and fluffing it up with coos of appreciation. “Good material here,” he commented, plucking off my glasses. “You ever consider contacts?”

I snorted. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Can you do something that’s easy to style? I work as a waitress, so I need to be able to easily pin it up in the back.”

“Oh, yes. I’m just going to shape this bit, thin it out here, lighten it up there. See?”

Of course I couldn’t see a thing, but Riccardo inspired confidence, so I went with it. The shampooing part was relaxing. The snipping part unnerved me. Without my glasses, my reflection was just a hopeful blur in the mirror.

Later, when I finally retrieved them, I stared at the result, mouth agape. Riccardo had layered and shaped my frizzy, waist-length mop into a glossy halo of black ringlets that framed and flattered my face while still reaching halfway down my back in an artful taper. I kept putting my unbelieving hands up to feel the softer, springier texture of the curls. They felt so different, with all the goops and salves and waxes he’d massaged into them. Actual curls instead of frizz.

The price was staggering, but I passed over my credit card without protest. The only problem now were the glasses. With my new hair, they looked even goofier than before.

One step at a time, though.

My hair caused a sensation when I walked into the Sunset Grill. Monica wolf-whistled, and Norma spun me around, looking at me from every angle. “You look as gorgeous as I knew you would!” she exclaimed, her eyes wet. “I just wish Lucia could see how pretty you look. She’d be so happy to see you all primped up at last.”

That made my eyes overflow. I hugged Norma tightly.

“Enough of this gooey sentimental stuff,” Monica said briskly. “Let’s get down to business. C’mere, Nell. I wanna put some makeup on you.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be prepping for lunch?” I asked plaintively as Monica dragged me to a chair.

“That’s all right, hon. I’ll pick up the slack,” Norma said indulgently. “How did that job interview go?”

“Oh. The job interview,” I hedged, as Monica tilted my face up and outlined my eyes with pencil. “Well, now. It was extremely interesting.”

“How so?” Norma asked, picking the chairs off the tables.

“You will never, in a million years, guess who it was who interviewed me,” I said.

Norma froze. Monica’s pencil stopped moving.

“No way, chica,” breathed Monica.

“You don’t mean to say ... nah. You’re putting me on, Nelly. I simply don’t believe it,” Norma said.

“Believe it,” I said.

There was an incredulous silence. I turned around to find Norma and Monica grinning at each other like fools.

“Did he ask you out?” Monica tilted my head back and brandished my eyeshadow sponge. “Did he come on to you? Did you kiss?”

The steamy sequence in the stairwell played through my mind in a timeless instant, and my face went beet red. “As if I would,” I lied. “I’ve barely met the man.”

“Well?” Norma said. “So try, try again! Take the bull by the horns, honey!”

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