"Let me go talk to him," Ash told his stylist.
"You're just processing," she assured him. "But we'll need to rinse in about ten minutes."
"And you can rinse now," Faith's stylist told her.
As soon as she had her head in the sink and the water was running, I turned to my stylist. "What are they doing to him?"
The woman glanced at Faith then bent so she could lower her voice. "Bikini line and butt crack, basically. I think it was Mr. Walker who made the appointment, and he said this guy was a first-timer. Sounds like Mr. Walker is doing a full Brazilian."
"He always does," I assured her. "He still models when he can. Poor Luke. Please make sure someone does his eyebrows too?"
"That was on there," she promised. "Kinda makes sense, what with the kid. You know, I could do a light wax on her brows so she feels like she's a little more grown. No charge, but just a bit above the hairline, so she doesn't have to worry about regrowth."
"Thank you," I breathed. "She's been bullied in school, and we're trying to convince her that she already is beautiful. She's been a little fixated on it."
"I'll tell her stylist," she promised. Then she made a little noise, sounding almost embarrassed. "Is there any way I can get you to sign one of those ads? We have a whole stack of magazines, and you're in about half of them."
"Not a problem," I assured her. "Ash would probably sign one too. We recently moved to the area, and we're looking for a regular salon."
"Then we'll make sure you want to come back," she promised. "I may have to post that I did Violet Dawson's hair!"
"We'll take pictures when it's done so you can post it on the salon's social media," I assured her.
This meant I was going to have the best color of my life. Some of my stylists had been jaded by working on too many famous models and celebrities. I always got the best hair from places like this where the stylists still cared. Maybe they didn't have all the expensive gadgets, but they knew hair, and they enjoyed playing with it. Then there was the pride in this woman's eyes. She was absolutely beaming. The only thing that spoiled the moment was the cry from the back room.
"Jesus fucking shit!Fire!What the fuck? I hate you both. Goddammit!"
Evidently, Luke was now hair-free.
Chapter Forty-Two
Luke forgave us faster than I would've. Making him spend the afternoon with his daughter, unable to bitch about it, probably helped. By the time he took Faith home, he was even walking normal again. Violet ended up looking amazing, her color a little brighter than she usually wore, but I liked it better. It sounded like she agreed. And Faith? The child was on cloud nine.
Her hair looked like she'd spent a little extra time in the sun. Nothing excessive, and they didn't take it to the roots so she wouldn't need to worry about it growing out. The cut slimmed the lines of her face. The layers made it full and lush. When I saw her standing beside Luke, I realized that she looked just like him, and Violet had found exactly what was needed to bring that out.
The girl would grow up to be a knockout. I had a feeling that the first boy to break her heart might not survive it, and I decided I'd be right there beside Luke when he needed a talking-to. It would probably be the closest I'd ever get to having kids, so I was more than willing to stand in as her uncle or whatever he let me be.
Damn, but I liked that kid. Faith was sassy, she was brilliant, and she was so very sweet. I just didn't like the way she talked about things at home. Something about the way she acted about her stepfather bugged me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I planned to push at that today. She was on her way for her session, and I had an entire list of things we needed to cover.
Ash and I had the walls primed, but they weren't painted yet. The shelves had been cleaned. The carpet was better after it had been steam cleaned, but I still planned on pulling it out. I'd not only cleaned the chaise but had also conditioned the leather. Violet had brought in a little table to sit beside it so Faith could have a drink while we talked, and this time I had some candy on my desk and my recorder was once again running to make all of this official.
A tap at the door told me my patient was here. "Come!" I yelled at her.
Faith opened the door and leaned in. "Dad's going to work on the tractor. He said you've got me for as long as you wanted."
"And you don't sound like you mind," I said proudly. "Ok. Come in. Sit down. Tell me what you think."
"It's better," she said. "When you do the floor in wood, are you going to have a rug?"
"I think so." I pulled my chair around to sit on the other side of the little table. "Gonna need curtains too. Is your mom redecorating, or have you been living with Brody a while?"
"No, we moved in last weekend, but we've kinda been mostly living there since school got out. It's just that now we don't have our place and his, you know? But that's good, because the last place we had was a piece of crap. Dad didn't give Mom enough money for us to have a better place."
"Where does your mom work?" I asked.
Faith shrugged. "She helps with the church. She worked at the feed store for like a month, but she quit because Dad kept coming in and giving her a hard time."
"Uh huh." Somehow, I couldn't see that. "Does she talk about your dad like that a lot?"
