Change was exciting, and change was definitely in the air.
Chapter Three
Allison’s feet were cemented to the sidewalk outside the department store window a mere seven hours later. She could see the makeup counter with the well-dressed and perfectly made-up salesclerks smiling from behind the glass countertop, and all her backbone evaporated. They intimidated her. At this rate she’d never open the door and go inside. She shouldn’t have worked late. For some reason, during those extra hours, she’d lost her nerve. The hype from her earlier pep talk forgotten.
She’d come off looking like a complete fool if she went in there. All her questions would probably drive them crazy, even though they’d smile and act polite. She didn’t even know where to start, what she needed, how to use half—no, make that 99 percent—of all the items adorning the counters and shelves. Bottles and tubs and jars and vials full of mystery. At least a mystery to her. How did women know this stuff? Did the makeup gene skip her?
But the salespeople will help.
She pressed her hand to her throat, and her pulse pounded against her fingertips. No way. She couldn’t do it. At least not right this moment. She needed more time.
Damn confidence. Or lack of confidence, to be exact. I’m a grown woman. A successful grown woman with a college education, an amazing job, and, according to Jared, a sense of humor. Quit being so shy.
She pulled her sweater more firmly around her front and hiked up the strap of her purse as a light wind blew around her. Maybe she should call it day. Try again tomorrow after she slept on it, formed a better plan.
Chicken. The voice inside her head echoed.
Damn straight, she answered back.
Her phone jiggled in her pocket at the same time she tossed a chocolate into her mouth. She pulled it out of her purse and read the screen. Colleen. Should she let it go to voicemail, or confide her fears and ask for help? After all, if she couldn’t count on Jared and didn’t dare go into the department store, maybe at the very least Colleen could offer moral support, even if she couldn’t give advice. Over the years they’d shared so much.
Except this little quirk into her own insecurities. Her friend probably had no idea how deep this issue ran.
“Hey, where are you?” Allison answered the phone as she sucked on the Kiss.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Jerry’s been gone all week, and I’m going half out of my mind. Conversations with the cats are getting old.” Colleen’s singsong voice filled her ears. A definite comfort in a moment of sheer panic.
“That’s what you get for having a dream job that allows you the luxury of working from home.”
“I know. I shouldn’t complain. Anyway, are you home yet? Up for some company? I have wine. And I’m already halfway out the door.”
Allison could picture Colleen’s larger-than-life smile, her short curly hair bouncing around her face as she hurried around her apartment turning off lights, tracking down her purse, and grabbing a jacket in preparation for her departure.
Allison took a big breath. She needed to confide in someone. “I’ll be there shortly. Have to make a pit stop first. What would you think about helping me with a project?”
“What type of project?” Excitement bubbled across the receiver as the sounds of Colleen locking up her apartment door echoed across the phone.
“A makeover.”
“Are you redecorating?” The drop of excitement in Colleen’s voice made Allison smile. Her friend wasn’t into Suzie Homemaker tasks like decorating, vacuuming, or any type of cooking that didn’t involve a prepackaged meal and a microwave. How they’d remained friends for so long was a mystery. Maybe opposites did attract, because Allison loved all that homey stuff. She had more in common with Jerry—Mr. Homemaker—than her own bestie.
“In a manner of speaking.” She moved away from the department store, her mind made up to take baby steps and shop for makeup at the drugstore down the block from her apartment. The people who worked there were more approachable. More like her. If things went well, and her confidence grew, she’d attempt the department store the next time. Maybe when she worked on her wardrobe.
“I’m not interested in painting, if that’s what you have in mind.” Colleen’s grimace came through loud and clear.
“This makeover involves me, and the painting we’d be doing will be on my face.”
“As in makeup?” Colleen laughed, all of her earlier distaste gone as the tingly sound in her voice returned. “Wouldn’t that be like the blind leading the blind?”
Allison grinned. Colleen’s aversion to makeup rivaled her lack of enthusiasm for most things domestic—actually to anything that she didn’t want to do. Ever since they’d been kids, Colleen had played by her own rules, and she wasn’t shy about it. “I know you’re not a fan, but I could use the moral support.”
“Then say no more. Where should I meet you?”
“The drugstore by my apartment. You can help me make some color choices.”
“See you there.”
For the first time since she left work, the tension skating between her shoulder blades eased. The night wouldn’t be a total bust after all.
Allison whipped out the barrette binding the hair at her nape. She shook her head until all her hair fell across her face and then brushed it away from her eyes with her fingers. For some reason all the confidence she’d felt Friday night when Colleen stood at her side vanished with the Monday morning light.
She couldn’t do this. Her vulnerabilities came crashing down around her as she stared at her reflection. Fear gripped her as if she stood naked in a crowd. Alone. Uncertain.
If all those feelings sliced through her in the safety of her own apartment, how would she handle herself once she set foot outside?
She sat on the edge of the tub, twirling her glasses between her fingers and staring at her shoes. Cute little red flats that Colleen had dug out of the back of her closet, along with a matching red button-down blouse. Allison didn’t even remember buying them.
I want to make changes. I need to make them. Damn it. Sit up straight and do it. Go for it.
She gathered her breath, along with her courage, and stood in front of the mirror. Tossing her glasses onto the counter she put in her contacts, pulled back her hair, combing through it with her fingers, and then refastening the red clip at her neck. All her movements precise. She smoothed her palm along the side of her head to make sure every hair lay in the proper place, then spritzed on a little hair spray and pasted a smile to her lips.
Friday night—a little over forty-eight hours ago—Colleen had recommended she wear her hair back in order to show off the new look. Although at first Allison felt overexposed, and she automatically sought out her widow’s peak—Gawd, who came up with that term?—her reflection had held her spellbound. She couldn’t believe the woman staring back at her was her.
The effect this morning hadn’t changed. She liked how she looked. The eyeshadow, lipstick, even the mascara that felt heavy on her lashes helped her square her shoulders with determination to meet the world with a smile. She really did feel good. She couldn’t worry about what others thought, as long as her thoughts were happy.
Right?
She shook out her arms, wiggling her fingers as she met her reflection, rubbing her lips together. For some reason her eyes looked bigger, her red lips—bold red that matched her hair clip, blouse, and shoes—accentuated her face. Even her cheekbones looked more pronounced. Of course she’d shadowed them with a darker blush. A tip from one of the magazines.
Although she could see the difference in her appearance, would anyone else? And if they did, what would they say?
Who cares? This is for your confidence and has nothing to do with anyone else.
Maybe all of this was too much, too fast. She should start out slow. Little bits at a time. Foundation one week, switch up her hair the next, then the following add lipstick, mascara…
She reached for a facecloth an
d ran it under the faucet.
No. I will not become my own worst enemy and talk myself out of this. I can do this.
Gawd, she didn’t know how to handle this part of her life. She had a great job, some good friends, and an amazing family, yet she couldn’t throw on a little makeup and greet the day. She felt beyond beautiful, but her stomach spun, and she leaned over the counter, staring into the sink as she clutched her fist around the damp washcloth. She breathed in so deeply she coughed, then straightened, tossing the cloth into the hamper as she met her stern expression in the mirror.
“You are so doing this.”
She jumped when her phone rang, and the “Space Odyssey” music that was Colleen’s unique ringtone sliced through the silence in her apartment.
“Hey, isn’t this a little early for a phone call from you?” Allison asked as she pressed the phone tightly to her ear. She loosened her death grip. Relax. This is Colleen.
“I set my alarm so that I’d wake with the roosters so I could check on you. You okay? Ready?”
Allison nodded as she answered, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Don’t overthink it. Just keep your head held high. You look fab, girl.”
“I hope so.” Allison concentrated on taking normal breaths. “And, Coll, thanks again.”
“Love you.”
They said their good-byes, and less than fifteen minutes later Allison stepped onto the E train. A tinge of self-consciousness strangled her chest. Maybe she should’ve worn her hair down. And the red blouse, maybe it was too much. She didn’t wear a lot of color. Did she really want to attract so much attention right away? But I have my black sweater. My shield.
She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let doubt keep creeping in. Enough was enough. The determination that gripped her in Jared’s office the other day returned full force. Change could be hard, but she’d never been one to give up.
She forced back her shoulders and made herself meet the other commuters eye to eye. She got a few blank stares and some smiles. A couple of businessmen came aboard, and she gripped the pole as the train lurched forward. One of them gave her a lopsided smile, nudged his buddy, and they both gave her the once-over. The second guy said something to the other one and then chuckled, delivering her a wink.
Her confidence soared. Could a little makeup really make such a big difference? She’d been riding the El for years. Nobody had ever held eye contact, let alone winked. Of course, she’d usually spent her commute with her nose in a book and her hair falling over her face.
The train glided to a stop, and several more people stepped aboard. She earned more smiles, and one guy and girl stared at her for several minutes—until the train stopped at Allison’s destination and she stepped off. She thought she heard them laugh, but she had to tell herself that it didn’t mean they were laughing at her.
That little bit of interaction from a handful of people lifted her spirits. She practically floated along the sidewalk toward her office building, her heart light, and her footsteps lighter still. Maybe her coworkers would be as receptive as the strangers on the train. Wouldn’t it be awesome if maybe one person invited her for a coffee, or a drink after work on Friday? Wouldn’t it be better still if she dared to ask one of them?
She straightened her shoulders, biting back her smile. Heck, maybe she would.
She rode the elevator up to Firstline’s floor, a bundle of energy as she tapped her foot. The doors slid open, and she stepped off, thankful to be greeted by an empty reception area. She wanted to work her way into seeing everyone. Her back stiffened, and she lifted her chin as she strolled down the corridor. The swing to her hips just happened and she grinned, biting her lip in hopes she could calm down enough to make her expression neutral. She didn’t want to come off looking like a loon.
On the way to her shared office, she stopped at the break room to grab a cup of coffee. The moment she spotted Glenda and Andrea her feet stopped working, and she tripped across the threshold. They weren’t the pair she wanted to see first. As a matter of fact, she preferred to not see them at all. In an instant her palms grew sweaty, and as she was about to turn on her heel and make a quick escape, Glenda—not the good witch as several other coworkers referred to her under their breath—turned and spotted her, nudging her cohort.
Allison had no choice but to continue to the coffee station. She looked straight ahead, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Andrea turn toward her and Glenda jabbing her in the ribs.
Andrea cleared her throat, and Allison glanced in their direction. The two other women smiled, and she lifted her chin, flashing a smile of her own, even though her stomach flipped.
“Morning, Allison.” Andrea’s gaze slid over her from head to toe, and her grin spread across her face.
Something in the way both women looked at her, wrapped around her confidence and squeezed, making her stomach somersault again. This time so hard she pressed her hand to her center.
“Have a good day,” Glenda said as she breezed by, pulling Andrea behind her.
Allison sank against the counter, lifting a Styrofoam cup from the pile beside the coffee machine. With shaky hands she filled her cup, and her stomach rose in rebellion when she heard whispers on the other side of the break room entrance and then laughter.
She’d know the sounds of Glenda and Andrea’s cackling anywhere.
“What the hell happened to her?”
“Looks like she put her makeup on in the dark.”
More cackles, and then, as their voices lowered, Allison only picked up a few choice words. Overdone. No clue. Awful. Feel sorry for her.
Her legs wobbled as she swallowed air, depositing her coffee into the sink and tossing the cup.
Even though she didn’t want to listen, she couldn’t stop. Every fiber in her body grew taut, her stomach pinched and spun. She looked skyward, waving a hand in front of her eyes in hopes of stopping the waterworks already blurring her vision.
And their laughter. That was the killer.
Her entire life she’d been the nerdy girl, but she’d never been picked on. Laughed at. Maybe staying in the shadows wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It certainly didn’t hurt as much as people talking and laughing about her.
Her chin quivered, and she touched her face, her lips, and then dropped her hand down to her side. Defeat seeped through her, and she hated it. She’d never been one to let what others said get her down, but when it came to something she’d worked so hard on, something she wanted so much…
She hugged her middle as she heard another laugh—definitely Andrea—and then Allison went still when that same gritty sound stopped mid-cackle, and Jared’s voice sifted through the room and wrapped a blanket of protection around her.
It had that same commanding boom from the other day. The one that she’d never heard him use.
“That’s enough, ladies. You both have better things to do than waste your morning on idle chitchat. Am I right?” His dismissive tone made even Allison fumble with her collar, straightening her shoulders in preparation to get to her desk.
Although she couldn’t hear what the other two said, the quick tap of their heels on the tile told her all she needed to know. Her shoulders sagged as she released a long breath, and she swiped at the moisture beneath her eyes.
A glimmer of sunshine soared through her. She normally didn’t need a protector, but that didn’t stop her from looking overhead and sending a silent thank-you that Jared had come to her rescue. There’d have been no way she could’ve walked past Andrea and Glenda again, and now she didn’t have to worry about it. At least not until she could regroup.
She ran her tongue across her upper lip as Jared entered the room, holding her gaze.
“They were laughing at me, weren’t they?” She didn’t even know why she asked. She knew deep in her gut they were, and the look on his face—tight lip and controlled anger in every line of his forehead—confirmed it.
“Does it matter?” His voice—restrained, deep, an
d authoritative—sent a chill down her spine.
He was right. It didn’t matter. Nothing would change with a confirmation. She wouldn’t stalk after them and have a confrontation. Her style was more live and learn. But she wouldn’t alter her plan of change. She’d have to woman up and harden her heart. Some people liked to hurt others—be it from jealousy or their own insecurities—and that’s what she’d attribute Glenda’s and Andrea’s reactions to.
Nobody said this would be easy.
He took the last few steps toward her and stopped, lifting her chin with his fingers. “What have you done?”
“W-what?” She bit the corner of her lower lip. For the second time in less than a minute, she didn’t need an answer. All the stress from the last few days collided with her good sense. She dropped her face into her hands so hard she poked her eye with her knuckle. Now she really did have a reason to cry, and silent sobs shook her shoulders. The moment Jared put his hands on her arms—so soft and reassuring—she froze.
She hated being weak. She hated it even more that someone—Jared, to be exact—saw her at this low point.
It didn’t matter that he’d come to her aid only minutes ago, she wanted to be alone in her misery. To compose herself, if that’d ever be possible. She gave him her back. “Leave me alone.” She choked on her last word. “Please.”
“No.” His warm palms settled across her shoulders and squeezed, and for a moment a little of his strength seeped into her. But the warmth didn’t last long as the last thirty minutes hit her like a ton of bricks. Everything played before her eyes as she blinked, unable to stop the tears from escaping.
The awkward smiles from the people she passed on her way to the E train. The woman who approached her as she waited on the platform, but then averted her gaze and moved past her. The people on the train. The men. Nudges. Smiles. Winks. Laughter after she got off.
Had everyone been making fun of her? Had the grand finale been the moment Glenda and Andrea spotted her? They hadn’t even been able to get back to their desks before they’d started their rapid-fire round of insults.
A Friendly Flirtation (Friends First #3) Page 4
