Finding Mr. Write (Business of Love #5) - Ali Parker Page 0,1
my red hair.
I’d just dyed it this morning, and every time I spotted myself in a reflective surface, I was surprised to see the deep red, vibrant color. It reminded me of mermaid hair. It was rich and dark and long, reaching right to the underwire of my bra, and I was so glad I’d made the decision to finally dye my dirty-blonde locks.
I’d never dyed my hair before.
But today was the day for changes and new beginnings. That was what this evening was all about, after all. I had news to share with my girls. I wasn’t sure how they were going to take it, hence my ass-kissing charcuterie spread and the twenty-three-dollar bottle of wine. Usually, I opted for a bottle that was under ten dollars, and that was with tax included.
But I needed to properly butter them up before I broke my news to them.
I heard the front door unlock right on cue and turned from the kitchen counter just as my two best friends came inside, giggling to each other.
Madison and Riley were nicely dressed as always. Their jobs required them to wear clothing only from Strut, which meant about thirty percent of their pay or more went to purchasing new clothes for their work “uniform.” Clothing items from Strut averaged around a hundred and twenty dollars per item, and even though my besties had worked there for three consecutive years, I’d yet to purchase anything from the store.
I had received articles of clothing from the girls for Christmas and my birthday though. One was a skin-tight body suit I’d worn one time on New Year’s Eve. The other was a black coat with a large hood and a sash around the waist. I felt it was far too formal to wear in a town like this, but I knew it would be good in the near future.
The very near future.
“Mercutio!” Riley gushed as the cat bounded across the laminate floors to greet her with his usual routine. He sat right in the middle of the doormat, an old bristly thing Madison had brought home ages ago that used to have a picture of a pumpkin on it, but now it was just an orange blob, blinked slowly up at his master. The cat mewed until Riley dropped to a crouch and gave him what he wanted, a good scratch under the chin and an obscene amount of high-pitched baby-talk.
Madison and I locked eyes as she shrugged out of her leather jacket and hung it on our three-legged coat hanger.
“Hey, babe,” Riley said. “Your hair! Holy shit!” Her gaze slid to the living room and the ottoman. “What’s all this?”
“I wanted to have an impromptu girls’ night,” I said.
Riley looked up briefly from the love of her life. “I love the red.”
“Thanks.” I beamed. “Me too.”
Madison stepped around Kraken and Riley, giving them a wide berth in case he swatted at her for interrupting his evening affection ritual, and came to join me in the kitchen. I handed her a glass of wine.
“Your hair looks fantastic,” Madison said, picking up a strand of my hair and running her fingers through it. “And it’s not dry. How did you do that?”
“Bleach bath first, coconut oil, and a lot of conditioner?”
Madison nodded approvingly. “Looks like you went and had it professionally done.”
“That’s what I was going for.”
Riley finished greeting Kraken and shrugged out of her jacket as well. She came to join Madison and me in the kitchen, picked up her own wine, and took a sip. “Oh yes, I needed that. Today was a day, let me tell you.”
I waited expectantly. “And?”
“And what?” Riley asked.
“Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“Oh.” Riley snorted. She wasn’t the brightest bulb on the strand of Christmas lights. That was for sure. “You know how it is, babe. Retail customers are actually the worst.”
“The worst.” Madison nodded for good measure, just in case I wasn’t grasping the massive concept.
Riley sighed and leaned one hip against the counter. “We had this one woman come in, wanting to make a return, and she’d very clearly worn the garment out and about, and probably several times over, mind you. It had deodorant stains and makeup stains and—ugh.” Riley threw her wineglass-free hand in the air. “Entitled people, you know?”
“Sure,” I said, pausing to sip my wine.
Riley glanced down and spotted my blood stain on the cutting board. Her eyes narrowed. “How did you get hair dye on the cutting board?”