makeup for the stars of ‘The Young and the Restless,”’ Kylie informed him, studying the day planner on her lap.
“But I needed a break.” Amy selected five outfits and tossed them onto the sofa. “So now I’m doing freelance work. Mostly working on models for fashion shows and photo shoots. But my favorite jobs are makeovers. Enhancing the beauty of soap stars and models is easy. But transforming a loser into a knockout takes real skill.”
“Not that you’re a loser, Dexter,” Kylie hastily assured him.
“Thanks,” he said dryly as the timer on the kitchen stove dinged.
“Time to rinse,” Amy announced. She led Dexter over to the sink, then began removing the foil wraps.
“Exactly what color will my hair be?” he asked as Amy pushed his head under the faucet.
Amy carefully rinsed his hair. “The same color, but we’re hoping to add some fabulous golden highlights.”
“What do you mean, hoping?” Dexter asked.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Kylie called from the living room.
“Well, there was that time we ended up with lime green on Carlo.” Amy laughed. “Remember that, Kylie?”
“Green?” Dexter repeated, starting to feel a little panicky. He’d only done this to make Kylie happy, to see her smile again. Now the absurdity of it hit him full in the gut.
“It was a temporary color,” Kylie assured him. “It only took a month to wash out.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
Amy shut off the tap, then towel-dried Dexter’s hair. By the time he returned to the living room, his hair was standing straight up in golden brown spikes.
“That’s already an improvement,” Amy said, admiring her handiwork. “Now for the clothes.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Nothing if you’re starring in a black-and-white fifties flick. The three-piece suits have got to go.” Amy stepped back and surveyed him from head to toe. “Fuschia isn’t really your color.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Amy tapped her chin. “And I’ve got to admit, it looks like you’ve got a great body under all those clothes. Of course, you’re a gigolo, so I suppose it’s one of the job requirements.”
“I think he prefers the term male escort,” Kylie said, scribbling something in her planner.
“I prefer to wear my own clothes,” he said, as Amy pulled another outfit off the rack.
“You’ve got to trust me,” Amy informed him, holding a pair of skimpy black leather pants up to his waist. “Once we get rid of your old hairstyle, your old clothes and those horrendous glasses, you’re going to be every woman’s fantasy.”
“The glasses?” Kylie looked up. “Don’t you think we should keep them? I think they’re sexy.” Her cheeks grew rosy. “I mean, in a subtle, intellectual sort of way.”
Dexter’s heart warmed at her words, along with another part of his body. He liked the way her hair hung in a profusion of wild, thick curls around her shoulders. His fingers itched to touch it, to feel the slide of that silk against his skin.
“Look, Ky,” Amy replied, as she pushed Dexter into an inflatable chair, then ran a comb through his wet hair. “I know what I’m doing. Women don’t like subtle. They like raw sex appeal.”
Dexter cleared his throat. “I take it my ability to see doesn’t matter when it comes to fashion.”
Amy snorted. “Haven’t you ever heard of contact lenses?” Then she stepped back and looked into his eyes. “Ooh, we could go with colored lenses. Wouldn’t violet be awesome with his coloring?”
“No.” Kylie’s voice was firm. “Dexter’s eyes are perfect just the way they are.”
The telephone rang before Amy could argue with her. Kylie picked up the cordless receiver, then placed her hand over the mouthpiece. “I’m going to take this call in the bedroom. Yell if you need me.”
Amy nodded, then reached for the blow-dryer. “Relax, Dexter,” she said, flipping on the switch. “This won’t hurt a bit.”
He closed his eyes, his tension easing as she finger-styled his hair. Despite his initial reaction when Kylie suggested a makeover, he really didn’t mind all the changes. They were only temporary, after all. Anyway, the fewer people who recognized him as Dexter Kane, the better. In exactly one month, he’d take over the helm of the Kane Corporation and leave this farce behind him. Fulfilling his dream was all that really mattered. Although the thought of spending the next four weeks with Kylie made him drift into a very different sort of dream….
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Amy said, gently shaking his shoulder.
Dexter started in his chair, opening his eyes to see her wrapping the cord around the blow-dryer. His body still throbbed with the erotic images that had danced in his head and he was thankful he still wore the plastic drape to keep the hair dye from staining his clothes. “Are you finished already?”
“With your hair,” Amy replied. “We still need to work on the wardrobe.”
“Can I see it?” he asked, as she spritzed him with hairspray.
“Not until we’re all done. I want you to experience the full effect.”
He looked around the living room. “Where’s Kylie?”
“Still on the phone.” Amy walked over to the clothes rack, once again perusing the choices. “That girl never stops working.”
He leaned back in his chair, forcing himself to relax. “I’m surprised she told you about the Harry Hanover masquerade. I thought it was supposed to be a big secret.”
“It is, but Kylie was a little nervous about pulling it off and needed someone to talk to about it. She knows she can trust me.”
Dexter wondered if there was anyone in his life he’d trust that much. He loved his brother, but Sam always seemed too laid back to take life’s problems seriously. There was always his grandfather, whom he trusted implicitly. But Dexter had always been so determined to prove he could handle any situation that he’d never allowed his grandfather see any of his fears or insecurities. Besides, the key to being an effective business owner was maintaining complete control at all times.
“How do you feel about silk?” Amy asked, pulling out an orange shirt with long puffy sleeves and draping it over the dressmaker’s dummy standing in the corner.
“I’ll sleep on silk, but I won’t wear it.”
She frowned. “You know, you could be a little more cooperative. Kylie is paying for all of this and she could use a few breaks.”
“She seems fine to me.”
“Of
