Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
But then the squealing sound of rubber on asphalt screeches in our ears, and Missy and I turn to look. A car does a hard left into our parking lot before sliding in perfectly next to my beater vehicle. Except this isn’t just any car. This is a yellow Lamborghini, low-slung and sexy. As we watch with our mouths open, the door opens and a delicate foot in a designer boot steps out. This is followed by a tall, dark-haired woman in a fur coat. When she stands, it’s clear that she’s model thin and at least six feet tall. Six foot four, if you count the added inches from her boots.
Missy and I stare at each other in confusion, but to our surprise, the woman checks out the signage in our small strip mall, and then begins walking toward SexyFlow.
“Pen,” Missy says slowly. “I think that’s your new customer.”
I stare, my mouth hanging open, but then I manage to snap it shut just as she pushes the glass door open. Tinkling bells announce her arrival, and a gust of perfume hits my nostrils.
“Is this SexyFlow?” she demands.
“Yes,” I say courteously. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Marina Alpern,” she says in an imperious voice. “I have a ten o’clock appointment for a blowout.”
“Of course,” I nod, my voice polite. “Welcome. My name is Penny, and I’ll be your hairstylist today. Did you need a wash as well before we do the blowdry?”
The woman scrunches her nose a bit, like she’s just smelled something terrible.
“No, because I only use a special shampoo formulated for me by my personal stylist. He’s getting married this weekend, so he couldn’t see me for my usual treatment. That’s why I’m here,” she sniffs. “Otherwise, I usually see real professionals.”
“Of course,” I say courteously, ignoring the slight. “How fun. A wedding is definitely a big event.”
I bite my lip as Missy stares at the newcomer with barely disguised surprise. How can this woman be so rude? She just showed up two minutes ago, and yet she’s already shown herself ready to denigrate both our service and our salon. But I try to keep my cool. I ease the fur coat from the woman’s shoulders and say, “Missy, can you please take Ms. Alpern’s coat? Can you please hang it up in the back closet?”
Missy rushes forward but Marina raises a hand.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep my coat within sight. I don’t want it disappearing, if you know what I mean. You never know what happens in small towns like this, where people are unaccustomed to experiencing true luxury.”
Missy and I share a look. Okay, so this woman has not only managed to denigrate our skills and workplace, but also the town of Gainesville as well. It’s incredibly insulting, but I manage to stay pleasantly neutral. The customer is always right, after all.
“How about we drape it on this seat here?” I ask. “We don’t have a closet in the front of the store, so is this okay?”
“I suppose,” the woman sniffs while looking around the salon with barely disguised disdain. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I nod politely.
“Certainly,” is my quiet reply. “Now what kind of blow out did you want?”
The woman sits down and stares with satisfaction at her reflection in the mirror. Marina Alpern is beautiful, in an evil kind of way. She has blood red lips, white skin, and black hair, which is the coloring of Snow White. Yet somehow, she seems more like an evil stepmother than a sweet princess. It could be the fact that she has a nasty look about her at all times, or the way her lips twist sourly, like she’s just tasted a lemon. Or it could be the fact that she brandishes her wealth like a weapon in order to injure the people around her. Whatever it is, I silently give praise that the noise of the hairdryer will prevent any conversation.
But to my horror, as I’m wetting her hair in preparation for the blow dry, Marina begins to gab.
“Did I mention I’m getting married?” she asks slyly. “That’s why I’m in town, because my fiancé lives here. Here, check it out. Isn’t this a beautiful ring?” she chortles, raising her left hand. “My fiancé knows my tastes so well.”
Indeed, there’s a rock affixed to her knuckle which is the size of Mount Everest. Missy and I fawn over it accordingly.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, while smiling.
“Stunning,” adds Missy, unsure of what else to say.
“Yeah,” Marina adds with a smug smile. “It must have cost him at least six figures, but he can afford it. These rocks don’t come cheap you know, and it’s definitely not lab created. I wouldn’t go for lab created anything because artificial is disgusting. Only natural is worth owning.”
I spritz her hair again while trying to smile.