CHAPTER97
After lunch, Jake takes me and Leila ashore on the speedboat which is moored to the back of the yacht. He doesn’t say anything again about my hair, whether I should cut it or not, and I don’t bring it up. He has a car and driver waiting on land to take us anywhere we desire and leaves us with a goodbye at the dock with orders to call him when we’re returning.
He hands me a credit card, which I try to push back at him but meet his death glare. I know better than to argue with that look. I slide it in my bag remembering he made it clear before we came that this trip was all on him, and if I even mentioned paying for a single thing, he would tie me up and dump me in the ocean. Jake’s funny about very few things, but women paying when they’re with him is a strong dislike. He likes to be the traditional, chivalrous gentleman. Some may think it’s chauvinist, and maybe it is, but it’s a Jake characteristic. Brought up in an old-fashioned Italian family, paying for everything when a girl is with him is natural to him. There’s no arguing with it.
I’m excited and apprehensive about the shopping spree and spending time alone with this girl I just met. I don’t really hang out with women apart from Sarah, and even then it’s been so long since we did. I don’t do social outings and girly shopping days. I never did. Sarah was always more of a tomboy type, going to movies and baseball games.
Leila soon puts me at ease with her never-ending chatter. She captures my heart with talk of Sophie almost immediately, even though she only met her briefly, but I can tell that Leila will be a good, protective, older sister.
Her mother sounds amazing: a woman who has adopted five children from varying backgrounds, who loves and raises them all like her own, and who is the most maternal woman you will ever meet, according to Leila. It is obvious she adores her.
She drags me into a couple of boutiques, swanning over rails of high priced dresses. I don’t need any more clothes; Donna has made sure of that, and I already know most of the items she bought me are more expensive than anything here. Jake is rather indulgent on that front.
I wonder what he’d be like as a husband, should he ever find the inclination to marry. I can see him spoiling his wife, money no object, and the inability to say ‘no’ to whatever she wants. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I don’t like the idea of Jake marrying some woman and doting on her with gifts and clothes.
“Here we are,” Leila announces proudly as we stand in front of a classy looking building with tinted windows and potted bushes at either side of the door. It’s a bit Mediterranean-cutesy yet somehow chic.
“Where?” I ask, confused, looking around.
“Best salon in the Caribbean! Come and meet Andre.” She beams a charming smile, with a huge, bright flash of white, neat teeth, and drags me inside the cool, air-conditioned building.
Our sandals echo on the tiled floor, and there’s a strong chemical smell in the air. We’re greeted by a round man in a Hawaiian shirt and a bald, shaved head as he waves his arms around energetically at the sight of her, before they embrace excitedly amid air kisses. It’s obvious they have met before. Many times. The cooing and crooning which follow make it abundantly clear that Andre is very gay, and his personality is just infectious.
An hour or so later, I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror, unsure how to feel, as Leila and Andre gush over my new hair. It’s cut to shoulder length, but the natural wave of my hair has pulled it up a couple of inches, the weight which had kept it straighter now gone. It’s lying in natural beachy waves framing my face, and Andre has lightened my tawny color with some sheer highlights. I am transformed, younger, softer, blonder.
I shake my head and enjoy the feeling of my hair moving around my face freely. It’s different, so un-me. This is a huge step, cutting away my security, my hair hanging loose at all times, too short to tie up the way I always did. I wonder how often I’ll have Jake pulling my hands out of my hair now, when I fidget.
This was such a dumb idea.
I am all big eyes and pouty lips now, looking more like a vulnerable child.
“I love it! You look super sexy, yet adorable still!” Leila grins at me via my reflection, and Andre nods in agreement. Inwardly I grimace, but show nothing on my face. Instead, I plaster on a bright, fake smile as though I agree, while my stomach churns with uncertainty.
“I guess I’ll get used to it.” I try for a bright tone with a smile. Completely torn about what I really think, I stare back at the stranger in the mirror. She’s pretty.
“Jake will go pie-eyed for it, trust me. You look so hot!” Leila giggles, her glance connecting with my eyes in the mirror, catching my blush as I try to push it away.
“Yesss, beautiful girl now has beautiful hair. You look so very sassy,” Andre cuts in with his two cents worth and overly-dramatic handwaving as he returns to fluffing my layers.
“Sassy and sexy!” Leila giggles.
“Seductive, sassy and sexy!” Andre quips in, not to be outdone.
“Okay, we should go,” I interrupt, busting up the little ‘S’ word competition they’ve started, and slide out of the chair. I stand and let him remove the cape, now seeing my new hair with my floaty beach dress and tanned skin; it doesn’t look so bad. I can see why Leila thinks it’s cute; I mean sassy. I guess it is a little bit. A lot more than my long locks were anyway."
