She glanced up, then back at her hands, finally shaking her head slowly from side to side.
“Then why those silly red spikes and that...that—” he waved his hand near her head “—pile of hair?”
Even though she felt foolish under his close scrutiny, at least these questions she could answer truthfully. “I...I just wanted to fit in. I didn’t want to look too straight. You know—someone who might easily be offended at what went on here—or what I thought went on here.” She could imagine how different she must have looked then compared to now. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Michael shaking his head.
And then he laughed, loud and long. Once he got his composure, he asked, “What on earth would a helper do at a bordello?” He took a sip of wine, swallowed quickly and then laughed again.
Nicole couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. Her charade had to have seemed comical, but watching Michael break up like this was even funnier. She never could watch someone laugh without laughing herself. And the harder she laughed the louder Michael got.
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