64
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 wild 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 when I fidget.
This was such a dumb idea.
Now, I am all big eyes and pouty lips, 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 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.
I can see why they would say it’s sassy, as whenever I move my head, it sways around in a very slinky way. It certainly suits my face. I’m just not sure; I’ve not cut my hair in over ten years, letting it grow out so I could always tie it up. This feels terrifying and new. The girl staring back at me is nothing like the manicured PA that graces Carrero Tower. With short, wild hair and a floaty dress, this girl looks romantic and soft and a little bit flirty. She looks like the girl I’ve never dared to let anyone see. I don’t know if I like it at all, and my stomach is in knots imagining what Jake will say. My nerves are peaking.
As we walk out into the sunshine, Leila fusses with my hair, fluffing it with her fingers as I pull my head away.
“I really do love it; your hair is so nice. I love your natural curl; it’s to die for,” she gushes with a grin.
“I just feel weird,” I utter tensely and look away stupidly; I feel like a child admitting it.
“Why?” she laughs. Leila is so easy to be around; she’s like Jake in that she can make me lower my defenses and relax. Maybe it’s not her; perhaps this is his effect on me carrying through, even when he’s not around.
“I’ve worn it tied up for years to keep it neat and feel more professional. I look more relaxed and less precise with this,” I laugh nervously.
Yes, it sounds dumb verbalizing it.
“And that’s a bad thing because…?” she giggles at me.
“I’m not used to being so casual and laid back,” I shrug, my cheeks warming with mild embarrassment.
“Jake kinda has that effect on everyone,” she winks with genuine affection in her eyes, and it makes me smile, then frown as I wonder what she really thinks of him. “He’s the master of making people lower their guard,” she continues.
I appraise the look in her eyes, searching for any hidden meaning within it, a moment of uncertainty fleeting through me as the little green-eyed monster pokes out again.
“You?” I ask cautiously with an inner pang of worry that maybe she and Jake dated in the past. I really hope not.
“I didn’t have a good start; I was adopted when I was seven. My mother was a drunk, and she didn’t look after me too well,” Leila says bluntly. I see no shame or embarrassment in her eye, and it surprises me. She’s being completely open about her past. You would never know that she even had a bad start in life from how she is now.
“You were guarded?” I laugh, unable to believe it.
“Jake’s a really good friend; he’s like a big brother in many ways. He’s known me since I was just an angry, troubled little girl, and he made me laugh, pulled me out of myself.” She links her arm through mine casually, her eyes wide and bright. I get the distinct impression Jake has never been romantic with her. I don’t know how I know, but it’s evident on some level. I exhale softly with relief.
“So, you two … you never …?” I stumble over my words. I just need to be sure, but I make myself cringe at the same time.
“Eww, hell no. That’s gross. Jake is like a brother to me; there’s nothing there at all. No spark; there never was. I mean, I appreciate that he’s good to look at, but I just don’t get any butterflies from him. He’s just Jake, and he knows how to annoy me on so many levels, just like my brothers.” She squeezes my arm as though trying to reassure me, and there’s only honesty in that sweet face. “You’ve nothing to worry about from over here! I’m all like, eww, no. Jake is not someone I would ever go there with. And I’m like totally hot for Richard right now,” she grins, and I bat her away playfully.
“You know that’s not how it is with us. He told you that already,” I say, trying to defend our relationship as the heat slowly rises, hitting my cheekbones.
“I know; so did you. Three times already. Thou doth protest too much!” She bursts into a childish but adorable giggle, and I try for a subject change instead.
“I can’t imagine you being anything other than you are now,” I say, trying to steer back to our pre-Jake conversation.
“Jake introduced me to all his friends; he would let me hang out with them and come away on trips. He took me under his wing. I see him doing it with you, and I guess Sophie too because my mom says she raves about both of you.” Leila’s smile is infectious, but this makes me stop and take note.
Is that what Jake does with me? Protects me like a little sister? No! He kissed me. He touches me in ways that would be wrong if I was his sister.
“Jake and I are just friends and co-workers; he doesn’t need to take me under his wing,” I respond too brightly, but she gives me a knowing look.
“Whether he does or doesn’t, I know him. He’s very protective of you. It’s kind of sweet.”
“We have a weird relationship, forced together, I guess, and it’s made us close.” I know I’m trying to sound nonchalant, but the truth is, I’m fluttering from her observations.
“It’s more than that. You forget I’ve known him since I was seven. His flirty little remarks, his almost aggressive protectiveness of you, and the way he just had to butt in over your hair. Jake doesn’t do stuff like that with girls he isn’t invested in.” Leila stops me with a hand on my arm, turning me to face her. Even though I’m small, I stand taller than her curvy petite frame.
“You’re reading too much into things,” I say, “I’ve been his PA for a year now; we are completely platonic in every way.” I can’t help the slow blush at the little white lie; platonic doesn’t involve sleep-kissing in the slightest. “He flirts with every girl he meets; he can’t help himself. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“No, he doesn’t flirt; he doesn’t have to make any verbal effort at all. Girls tend to throw themselves at him, literally. Jake is all about the hot looks and quick smiles. He never has to try; it’s boring to witness. He rarely breaks out the cheesy come-ons or fast lines for any girl … until you. With you, he uses so many cringe-worthy lines. He’s so obvious. Emma, I think the boy has it bad. You gotta trust me on this.” Leila can’t stop beaming at me, but I shake my head.
“I know Jake better than you think I do; he’s funny and over-sexed. The flirty lines are just his sense of humor because he seriously does not look at me that way. It’s our banter, our friendly to and fro.” I sound a little sterner than I intend.
Who am I trying to convince, her or myself? She needs to stop with this crazy notion already.
“When you guys finally get over this weird denial you’re both going through, I want to be maid of honor,” she winks at me and wraps an arm around my waist, ushering me onward again.
“Leila, it’s never going to happen.” Even though the words sound true, a stiff little jab in my heart betrays me to myself.
“Jake will figure it out, or you will. Then we’ll see,” she smirks mischievously.
My cell vibrates, and it’s a welcome distraction. I don’t like how this conversation is going anymore and would love an end to it. The text is from Jake informing us that they’re all heading to the mainland and to meet them at the restaurant for dinner. Leila knows where we’re going, so we go off in pursuit of our driver and car.
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