the lobby, glancing around, wondering if I’d run into the Scottish mystery man I’d met only a few days ago. I couldn’t seem to get him out of my mind. His arrogance, his assurance, his audacious virility all called to me.
When I arrived at the salon and spa entrance, I was greeted by the desk agent. After giving her my name—my new name—she handed me a salon gown and told me to follow her.
The salon was as glamorous as The Rex’s lobby but more soothing, with cream-colored walls, potted plants, and rows of chairs that were lined in a communal setting so friends could gab while getting their hair styled. It was as thoughtful a room as anything else I’d seen concerning The Rex. They had done nothing half-measured, which I appreciated.
I could see why Tiffany was loath to ever walk away from a career at The Rex.
When I was seated in a salon chair, the check-in girl asked me if I wanted anything to drink.
“Hot tea would be great,” I said with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Black? Green? Herbal?”
“Black, please. Earl Grey if you have it.”
“Excellent. I’ll have that for you soon. Jase will be along shortly. She’s still talking to Genevieve about what to do with your hair.”
I swallowed nervously and hoped they left my hair intact. I loved the length and style, but I was a canvas for them to paint, a lump of clay to mold. They would make sure I was attractive enough to draw the attention of men who I’d be spending time with, and they knew what those men wanted.
My hands were clasped in my lap as I waited for the desk attendant to come back with my tea. She returned with an elegant silver tray and a delicate white cup with a silver rim and a steaming pot of water with loose-leaf tea steeping. Milk, sugar, and honey adorned the tray in small containers with spoons. I strained my tea into the cup, added some honey, and stirred it. I lifted it to my nose, inhaling the soothing aroma. It was still too hot to drink, but it was enjoyable to have something to hold.
After a few minutes of sitting in a chair in the empty salon, a woman finally strolled toward me. Her brown hair was cut into a severe bob that highlighted her cheekbones and warm brown eyes.
“Hi. Eden? I’m Jase.”
“Nice to meet you,” I murmured, taking a sip of my tea, trying to remember to answer to my new name.
“Sorry for the wait. Gen was talking to me about your hair.”
“You’re not going to do something really dramatic, are you?” I blurted out. “I’m sort of fond of my hair.”
She removed my ponytail holder so that my dark locks spilled down my back. Jase ran her fingers through my mane in an almost seductive manner as she examined me, but otherwise didn’t answer.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror and waited.
Finally, Jase nodded. “I’m going to give you a gloss to bring out the richness of your hair. I’ll take it up about four inches from your last cut—right now you’re overwhelmed with length and it’s too much for the shape of your face. I’ll add in some light layers and give you some frames.”
I let out a breath and nodded. “Okay. Yes. That sounds—well, I was worried you were going to chop it all off and I was scared.”
She let out a laugh. “Very few of the girls get their hair chopped. Need to have something to grab onto.” She winked and I felt my face flame.
I really needed to get over blushing every time someone at The Rex alluded to anything to do with The Fifteenth Floor.
“Holy crap,” I murmured after Jase turned the salon chair around to show me the final result.
She laughed. “Well? Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”
“You did,” I said, swiveling my newly styled head from side to side. My maple syrup colored hair now fell a few inches past my shoulder blades; the face frames highlighted the wings of my eyebrows and somehow drew everything all together.
I ran my fingers through the rich glossy locks and marveled at the change. It wasn’t super dramatic, and yet, the effect was stunning. I wondered how I’d look with a full face of evening makeup and a dress for the occasion. If anything, I could believe I’d look like a woman headed to a night at a gala and not really what I was