some pretty remote parts of the globe, where regularly scheduled haircuts hadn’t been available. More often than not, schools hadn’t been available and as a result, her uncle and his crew had tutored her until she’d entered college. She’d only worn her hair one length because the style had been easy to pull back into a presentable ponytail. A comfortable style and since Julienne was officially done with comfortable…
“What kind of product do you have at home?” Ramón asked.
“I buy whatever you tell me to buy.” Eager-to-please Julienne. But no more. Opening her eyes, she resisted the urge to turn her head and peek in the mirrors.
“Shampoo, finishing rinse and an ends’ conditioner. That’s not enough. You need gel, mousse and spray now that you have shape, sweetheart. Celeste,” he called out and the tolerant receptionist hurried through the salon to join them. “Put a care package together for Jules. Basic styling products. Oh, and throw in some of the hair glitter, too. Pearlescent.”
“Pearlescent hair glitter?” Julienne asked.
“New-new, remember?” Shooing Celeste off, he poured a glob of what she presumed to be styling gel into his palm. “If you’re inhabiting places like the Risqué, you’ll need hair glitter, trust me. Now tell me what you’re wearing tonight.”
“I figured I’d decide after I saw the new me.”
“Tell me about the choices.”
As Ramón styled, Julienne told him about her formal-length black sheath and green velvet taffeta.
“I don’t like those,” he yelled over the roar of the blow dryer, motioning her to lean forward and put her head between her legs while he flipped the—gratefully—still considerable mass of hair over her head. “What else do you have?”
“A caviar-beaded skirt set.”
“What color?”
“Black.”
He snorted. “I thought you said you’d attended performances at the Risqué before. Sounds like all you do is go to funerals.”
Julienne might have scowled if she’d stood a chance of being seen, but as she was buried beneath damp hair with the blood rushing to her head, she could only correct him. “Black is a classic color for formal functions, not the only color I own. I have a pale-pink sequined ball gown I wore to a New Year’s party, but I think it would be too much for tonight.”
The blow dryer abruptly cut off and suddenly the curtain of hair parted to reveal Ramón peering at her upside down.
“Can you make time to visit Leona’s Boutique next door? She’ll have something that won’t make you look like Cinderella on her way to the ball.”
Julienne nodded. Cinderella in a ball gown was not a look to start her off with a bang. The time had apparently come to expand her wardrobe.
Naughty girls dress the part.
She’d read that in The Naughty Handbook, too, and tried to imagine what types of styles would be suitable for the new her, but as she hadn’t actually seen the new her yet…
“I’m a bloody genius.”
Ramón spun her chair around to face the mirrors with a triumphant laugh, and for a split second, Julienne didn’t recognize the woman staring back.
A cloud of hair, incredible hair, floated around her face, tumbled down her shoulders and reached halfway down her back in a mane of tousled waves. The subtle color change gave her hair a sunlight glint, which cast her skin with a creamy glow that couldn’t possibly be natural. And her face. Suddenly her cheekbones seemed less austere, her features not quite so sharp. She looked somehow softer…and a whole lot sexier with all that hair waving around her face.
“You are a bloody genius,” was all she could say.
He actually bowed with a grand sweep of his arm. “Remember that when Celeste gives you my bill. But the best is…” he lifted some of the fringy pieces around her face to reveal her scalp. “The foil technique I used means your regrowth will be so natural you’ll barely notice.”
Julienne supposed she’d be suitably grateful a month or two from now, but at the moment she couldn’t think that far ahead. Not when her hair, her hair, looked so…wild.
“Did you curl it?”
Ramón shook his head. “Didn’t need to. Once I cut into the bulk your natural wave sprang up. Who knew?”
Julienne didn’t and wasn’t about to complain. Not when each glance in the mirror caused her to do a double take.
Looking good, girl.
She held that thought through Kathy’s makeup application and the short walk to Leona’s Boutique.
“None of Leona’s things are off the rack,” Katriona whispered when Ramón rushed through the boutique calling for the owner. “She only deals with New York designers. We’ll find something for you to wear tonight.”
Julienne refused to think about what the minimum payment on her credit card would be next month.
What are you working for anyway? Life’s short. Live.
And live she would. Even if it meant shrugging off a lifetime of reasonable budgeting. Her smile came easily as a svelte older woman appeared and Ramón performed the introductions.
Leona was a sharp-eyed woman who pegged her correct size with one glance. Leona’s Boutique was the type of upscale up-to-the-minute fashion establishment Julienne had simply never considered shopping in before.
With everything from elaborate formal wear to accompanying undergarments in colors like innocently white, perfectly nude and temptress black, Leona’s Boutique catered to women in the mood to indulge themselves.
Julienne allowed herself to be herded into yet another dressing room, and gave in to the excitement of silk shantung skirt sets with plunging scoop necks, sequined sheaths with bare-tie backs and tube dresses that reached the floor in a sweep of clingy satin.
And leather, lots and lots of leather in a rainbow of shades, which seemed to be what everyone thought she should wear to the Risqué tonight.
Julienne pirouetted in the full-length tri-mirror yet again, the red leather slip dress clinging to her body in a way that would have made her blush twenty-one days ago. Right now she only trembled with excitement and blessed Uncle Thad for sharing his low-cost solution to exercising in the field—running. An exercise that kept her toned.
“Yow. Do that again.” Ramón circled his hand in the air, motioning her around once more. “Look at that hair move, sweetheart. God, I’m good.”
“Yes, Ramón, you are. Thank you so much for renovating me with such brilliance and enthusiasm today.” Meeting his gaze reflected in the mirror, she smiled.
“The enthusiasm’s on the house, but I’m charging you for every drop of brilliance,” he said dryly, but when he stepped onto the raised platform to kiss her cheek, Julienne knew he’d been pleased by her praise.
“No
