Hollywood Flirt - Alexa Aston Page 0,16
wind blowing her hair as she laughed with pure joy. That’s why I’ve always kept it in mint condition—because it reminds me of her and all the good times we had together.”
Sydney embraced him, holding on tightly, her own memories of riding in the car with her mother whirling like a kaleidoscope in her mind.
“Getting to drive her convertible is a gift,” she told him. “It gives me a piece of her again. I promise I’ll treat it with care.” She stood and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for understanding that I need a little space, Dad.”
“I’m just glad to have you back in my life, baby. Leave the dishes,” he told her. “I’ll take care of them. Go see if Ramon can work his magic. Tell him hi for me.”
“Will do.”
Sydney decided to put her suitcase and briefcase in the car now. If she couldn’t get into the salon, she’d make an appointment for the first opening and head straight for the beach. No one would see her out there anyway so if she didn’t get her hair colored, it wouldn’t matter. She really wanted it done by next week, though. If she would be sitting in on casting, she wanted to look her best.
Especially the day Dash DeLauria auditioned.
She huffed. Why should she worry what she looked like because of that guy? She barely knew him. It wasn’t as if they were going to be friends. Possibly business associates if he did land the role, so why would she care about her appearance on his audition day?
Sydney told herself she wanted to look and act professionally. She didn’t want to disappoint herself or her dad. This was the brink of a new career. If she did a good job, it might lead to other ones, apart from her dad’s films.
She would forget the erotic dreams she’d had about Dash last night. Tell herself she didn’t care if he got the part or not. And definitely pretend that she had no interest in kissing him. None. At. All.
Sydney put her luggage into the small trunk and slid behind the wheel of the steel gray BMW. Her hand stroked the leather seat. This had been her mom’s favorite car. Sydney had loved riding around town in it, their hair blowing in the wind. She closed her eyes and pictured her mom the way she liked to remember her, not the skinny, hollow-eyed woman that had fought cancer so desperately and bravely.
She started the engine and pulled out of the garage. Her dad must see that the car was driven and serviced regularly because of how smoothly it started. Sydney pushed a button to let the roof fold back when she stopped at a light. Immediately, warm California sunshine beat down on her.
LA was home. It always had been, no matter how far she’d run. The Midwest had been a huge awakening weather-wise during her college years. She hadn’t thought she’d survive that first snowy winter. New Haven and the east coast had been more in her wheelhouse. Her job kept her too busy to enjoy either New York or Boston when she’d lived in both of those cities.
The City of Angels felt right. Cruising down the street, she realized this town was in her blood and she had no intentions of leaving it again.
CHAPTER 5
Sydney approached the door to the salon. Memories of all the trips she’d made here with her mom rushed at her. Though Ramon had always been willing to come to their house on the night of big red carpet events, her mother liked to get out in public whenever possible. This salon had been a safe haven. Sydney would sit in the chair and watch as Ramon snipped away until he was satisfied. Then he would blow dry the long, auburn locks. She was fascinated by how the hairdresser rotated the round brush and finger-combed each strand to perfection. Her mom said Ramon was the best stylist in the business—and that’s definitely what Sydney needed. The home dye job kit she’d used for years left much to be desired.
As she entered, she didn’t recognize the place. The salon looked nothing like the last time she’d been here. Not only had the décor changed but the colors were wildly different. Smoky grays and sage greens blended in a soothing pattern. Two women waited in plush chairs, a redhead scrolling through her phone who looked vaguely familiar and an ash blond reading a magazine.
A receptionist with slicked-back, dark hair