Page 43 of Begin Again, Part 1

"What?" Cassandra shrugged, reading the horrified look in her eyes for what it was. "It's 8:00 PM somewhere."

"Of course." Eden laughed at her logic. It wasn't surprising that she and Lydia got along so well. They were two peas in a pod.

She glanced at the form and completed as much as she could while Cassandra dashed to the front desk, returning with an armful of magazines and newfound conviction. "If you're going to get a makeover, you have to go all in. You can't be half-assed about it."

They spent a few minutes looking at the different hairstyles and catching up. It was hard to keep up with everything going on in their lives when the four of them were together. So it was nice to catch up one on one sometimes, as they were now.

"How are things with Skye?" Eden asked as she flipped through a Vogue magazine.

Skye was Cassandra's Norse god of a boyfriend with abs and muscles for days and the greyest eyes Eden had ever seen. He was sweet to a fault too.

"He's good."

"But?"

"His time's almost up," Cassandra replied. Of the four of them, she was the pickiest when it came to dating. The smallest thing pissed her off. It wouldn't surprise Eden if Skye was on notice because he forgot to put down the toilet seat.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked after a brief pause.

Cassandra shook her head. But she didn't mind talking about Chef's Kiss, admitting she hadn't made any profit in months. Business was so bad, she was even considering approaching a few banks for a loan. Eden could only nod and sympathise.

"Shouldn't we skip this whole thing, then?" she suggested, waving at the room teeming with makeover hopefuls. A new hairstyle when their finances were shit should be low on their priority list.

"Don't be silly!" Cassandra gently whacked her on the head with a rolled-up magazine. "This is from my piggy bank, so don't worry, okay?"

"Okay, Dad!" Eden relented and picked up an Elle magazine this time.

Franco waltzed over, oozing sass and panache in his all-black ensemble. His photos didn't do him justice. He was even more stunning in person. Eden knew his smooth bronze skin and thick eyebrows were the envy of many women because she was one of them. There was something deeply hypnotic about his almond-shaped cognac eyes. He was a work of art, made even more perfect by his impeccable makeup.

"Cassandra!" He air-kissed her friend.

"Franco!" Cassandra returned the over the top gesture, and they spent a few minutes prattling in French.

Eden had read somewhere that the man had spent a few years in France learning all the ins and outs of hairdressing. He'd even bagged a few gigs at some of the world's iconic fashion shows. There was even a rumour that he'd be taking his Midas touch to Rock Union's Fashion Week in a few months.

"So, this is your friend." Franco turned his attention to her. The eyes she was tempted to drown in seconds before were now narrowed in her direction. She squirmed and fidgeted under his piercing gaze. He barely noticed her discomfort as he snatched the clipboard from her.

Pushing his mohawk dreads to one side, he nodded while he scanned through her responses. "Not bad!"

Eden gasped out a shuddering breath at the first sign of approval.

"Come,ma chérie." He clasped her hand and dragged her to his styling chair. Before Eden could even process what was happening, Naomi was already at her side, wrapping a black cape over her chest and a matching towel around her neck. Scissors, several combs, and hair clips appeared from nowhere as Franco began to work his magic.

Eden turned to her friend one last time, pleading with her to rescue her. She wasn't ready to make such a drastic change.

Cassandra gave her a thumbs-up, cheering her on. "You need this. You'll look and feel amazing!"

"Are you ready, darling?" Franco waved the scissors at her, his liquid eyes shimmering with excitement.

Eden wasn't ready and would have preferred to have the scissors on the counter, away from her hair. But she nodded at Franco's gaze in the mirror.

For the next two hours, she placed all her trust in him, praying she wasn't making a huge mistake. After what felt like a lifetime of pulling, cutting, washing, and curling, Franco flipped the chair around and allowed her to look in the mirror.

"There you go, as pretty as a picture!" He gushed, a gloating smile flickering on his lips. "You're welcome!"

Eden could only gawk at her reflection, a silent scream frozen in her vocal cords. A scissors-happy Franco had gone on a cutting spree and chopped off more than they'd agreed on. In all fairness, they never agreed on anything. She foolishly trusted him because he was a renowned hairstylist who'd lived in France and spent years perfecting his art.

Her face glowing with expectation, Cassandra rushed to her side. "What do you think?"

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