by Claire Cook
Sean Ryan raised a well-groomed eyebrow. “That’s your idea of positive?”
I was trying to stay downwind, but he took a step toward me. I put a hand up to cover my mouth. In a perfect world, my nostrils would be filled with the smell of his Paul Mitchell Extra-Body Sculpting Foam and not embalming fluid. My breath would be fresh, and I’d have Nars Eros on my lips, which would shimmer a raspberry rose in the setting sun.
“Boyohboy, could I use a toothbrush,” I said.
“I could follow you to your place and wait while you brush.”
I looked at him. He looked at me. “Positively,” I said.
31
I HAD TO STAND ON MY TIPTOES TO TAKE DOWN THE SUMMER BLOWOUT sign. I cleaned the big picture window at the front of the salon with Windex and a paper towel first, because Mario was watching. Then I unfurled the FALL FOIL SPECIAL sign I’d designed and taped it up in the same place.
I stepped back to see how it looked. I took a deep breath of crisp autumn air.
Mario came out to join me. “How’s it look?” I asked.
He barely glanced at it. “Nice,” he said. “But listen to this. I think you might have reeled in a big one.”
It had been a crazy week. Sean Ryan managed to get me on Beantown. Somebody at DailyCandy saw me on the show, and they’d sent a Today’s Candy e-mail about my kit not just to their Boston list, but also to every major city in the country. My Web site was hopping, and Mario was helping me stay on top of all the orders.
“That’s great,” I said. “Who?”
“One of Miley Cyrus’s people e-mailed. They want to talk to you about doing a custom foundation for her, and maybe even designing a new look.”
“I can do that,” I said. “But who the hell is Miley Cyrus? Wait, is she the kid on that Hannah Banana show?”
“Hannah Montana,” Mario said. “See, that’s why you need me. And you’re going to have to start thinking about cutting back your hours and giving some of your clients to the other stylists.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll talk to Sophia.”
I worked on my kit orders in the back room all during lunch and any time I got an extra minute between haircuts. The day flew by. I finished my next-to-last client, and Cannoli and I walked her over to the desk. I looked in the book to see who my last client was. PITA was written beside the name in big red letters.
PITA is something you never want to see next to your name in the appointment book at your hair salon. It has only one meaning: pain in the ass.
I turned to look at the waiting area. The Silly Siren bride waved at me.
My heart started beating a mile a minute. I looked down at Cannoli. Her blondish roots were starting to show. I’d grown careless.
Cannoli glanced over at the Silly Siren bride. I held my breath. Cannoli turned around and walked casually into the back room.
The Silly Siren bride still had baby fine hair and a fishlike mouth, but at least she wasn’t dry heaving today. I decided to just play it cool and hope it was all a big fat coincidence.
“Hi,” I said. “Cut and blow dry?”
She was carrying a great big leather bag, and she reached into it now. I thought she might pull out a weapon, maybe try to take Cannoli back at knifepoint. But she only took out a big white photo album.
She handed it to me. “I thought you might want to see the wedding pictures.”
I couldn’t think of another option, so I took the album from her. “Oh, right,” I said. “How are you?” I flipped through a few pages, though I couldn’t see a thing. “Wow, what a beautiful bride.”
“The best hair I’ve ever had. I’m so coming to you from now on.”
Cannoli must not have been able to believe her ears, either, because she poked her head out into the salon again. I caught her eyes in the mirror and tried to make her go back.
Cannnoli took a step forward.
I shook my head. My heart was pounding in my throat.
Cannoli took another step forward.
“She looks cute as a brunette,” the Silly Siren bride said.
“What?” I said.
“We were so not compatible. I have this great Peekapoo now.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m so happy for you both,” I said.
The minute I got rid of the Silly Siren bride, my cell phone rang. I held it up and looked at the caller display. It was Craig. “Hi,” I said.
“So,” he said. “I’m moving out.”
“Great,” I said.
“I’d like to see you. You know, just to talk.”
“No thanks,” I said.
“Is it that guy from the wedding?”
“Nope.”
“Then what?”
“It’s you. You blew it, Craig, you know? I don’t want to look back, go back. I’m over it. I want something more.”
He didn’t say anything. I picked up Cannoli and walked into the back room. I put her down and started putting kits together with one hand.
“Lizzie’s coming home for fall break in a few weeks,” he said. “I was thinking we could all get together.”
“I know she is,” I said. “She called me last night. She’s bringing some of her friends with her, and I’m going to do makeovers for them.”
“Maybe I—”
“Craig,” I said. “You’re not invited.”
“Paesano!” I heard my father roar out front.
Cannoli yelped and went tearing out of the back room. I hung up on my ex-husband and followed at a slightly more dignified pace.
I was working on turning Sean Ryan into just plain Sean in my mind. It was a challenge, but I knew I’d get there.
“Hey,” I said. I kissed him, even though the entire room was staring at us.
Sean handed my father a bottle of grappa and me a bunch of sunflowers.
“Hold the fort,” my father said. “I’m off to date your mother.” He held up the grappa. It sparkled in the late afternoon sun. “Holy cannoli, is this one a keeper, or is this one a keeper?”
I drank Sean in with my eyes. “Is the pope Catholic?” I said.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Lisa Bankoff is not only the world’s best literary agent, but on the phone one day she even confessed her own lipstick addiction, which was just tailor-made for this novel. I never did find a way to get Shu Uemura #265E in there, but heartfelt thanks all the same. And a huge thank-you to Tina Wexler, too, for always being there with kind words and keen insight.
Speaking of dynamic duos, Ellen Archer and Pamela Dorman are just the best! I’m so happy to see Voice take off, and thrilled to get to go along for the ride. I’m particularly grateful for a brainstorming luncheon at Café Nougatine with Ellen, Pam, and oh-so-wonderful associate editor Sarah Landis, where the advice might have been even better than the food, and where my brilliant editor Pam Dorman turned a beauty book into a beauty kit with a wave of her magic wand.
I keep threatening to apply for a real job at Voice because I’m just so crazy about everybody there. Jane Comins and Jessica Wiener have been honest and forthcoming, and I’ve learned so much from them. Alex Ramstrum is a truly amazing publicist, and I’m so lucky to have Beth Gebhard‘s Southern charm behind me, too. I could write a book about how wonderful each and every person at Voice has been, but they’d probably prefer I write a real book instead, so I’ll settle for sending a great big alphabetical thanks to Anna Campbell, Kathleen Carr, Christine Casaccio, Rachel Durfee, Maha Khalil, Laura Klynstra, Claire McKean, Lindsay Mergens, Karen Minster, Shelly Perron, Mike Rotondo, and Sarah Rucker.
A million thanks to Charlotte Phinney for being kind and generous enough to guide me through the mysterious world of hair and makeup for this novel, for letting me shadow her, for answering an endless barrage of questions, and for some great laughs.
Thanks, too, to Tanya, Stacey, Helena, Pam, Maria, and the whole gang at Pipeline Salon, to Phoebe and Elaine at Phoebe’s Faces, to Donna Harlow of Harlow’s Hair Design,
and to Donna Crowley of Charles David Salon for inspiration and support.
Just about every time I mentioned this novel at one of my Life’s a Beach book tour events, a hairstylist would take the time to come up afterward to express enthusiasm and maybe even offer a few tips. I’m sorry I didn’t think to write down everybody’s names, but your excitement really propelled me forward in the writing of this book, and I’m so grateful to all of you, including Shane from Ann Arbor, Elaine Shapiro from Rhode Island, and Kathleen Cosgrove from Peacock Style and Color in Norwell.
A gigantic thank-you to the booksellers, librarians, and members of the media who have talked up my books and cheered me on. I’m so grateful for your support.
Many thanks to the talented Diane Dillon, the first flight attendant/author photographer I’ve ever heard of, for keeping my flight scenes on course even as she snapped my photo. Genius.
A big thanks to Ken Harvey for reading and offering some great advice along the way.
Thanks to my daughter, Garet, and her fiancé, Geoff, for Atlanta input, and to Garet for showing up for a visit with her eight-pound dog, Coco, who not only backed our big, bad Daisy Mei into a corner, but proceeded to worm her way into our hearts and this novel. Many thanks to my son, Kaden, for always being there with his creativity, wisdom, and computer savvy. Thanks to my seven sisters and brothers and one stepmother, bunches of nieces and nephews, and extended family, plus old and new friends, for love and book buzz—just tell me which character you want to be this time around, and I’ll back you up!
A huge thanks, always, to my husband, Jake, for being first reader, wise counsel, and killer proofreader.
And finally, to my fabulous readers—thanks for giving me the best job ever!
About the Author
Claire Cook is the bestselling author of the novels Life’s a Beach, Must Love Dogs, Ready to Fall, and Multiple Choice. A teacher of physical fitness and creative writing, she has had previous stints as a copywriter, radio continuity director, garden designer, and dance and aerobics choreographer. She lives in Scituate, Massachusetts—often called the Irish Riviera—with her husband and two children.
Visit her website at: www.clairecook.com
OTHER BOOKS BY
CLAIRE COOK
Life’s a Beach
Multiple Choice
Must Love Dogs
Ready to Fall
Copyright
SUMMER BLOWOUT. Copyright © 2008 Claire Cook. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Hyperion e-books.
Microsoft Reader APRIL 2008 ISBN 9781401396435
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
