"Yes, but—"
"No buts," she said firmly, flipping on the light and pushing her toward the ladies' room. "Get in there and change."
"But—" Jill's protest died on a sigh as she found herself pushed into the bathroom and the door pulled closed behind her.
"Dress," Bev repeated firmly through the door. "The parade starts in five minutes and you will be in it." Without waiting for further protest, she added, "I have to go back and chase a couple other people down. When you're ready, leave through the back door and just pull it closed. It locks automatically."
When Jill didn't respond right away, Bev added grimly, "Don't let me down, Jill. I went to great lengths to see you in this role and I'll never forgive you if you leave me without a Mrs. Claus."
"All right," she said wearily and heard the soft thud of the shop door closing.
Biting her lip, Jill opened the door and peered out. She couldn't be in the parade. The Mrs. Claus costume was a sedate little red dress with faux fur trim, a cute little Santa hat, and red shoes. Unfortunately, there was no mask and she'd be easily recognizable to John should he see her going past on the parade float. That was the last thing she needed. She didn't think he'd drag her off in front of everyone, but he was crazy. Who knew?
But she couldn't let Bev down either. And she really didn't want to miss out on this opportunity to spend time with Nick either.
Cursing under her breath, Jill paced to the front of the salon, her gaze moving up the street to her own store. There was no sign of John, but—Jill stiffened as she realized she wasn't at all sure she'd locked the front door of the store when she'd entered. John could be in there right now searching for her.
Oh, she couldn't do this. And she couldn't not do it. She needed to hide until she could get a hold of Kyle, but where?
Her gaze landed on one of the magazines in the waiting area of the hair salon. Two dozen of them littered the coffee table. Most of them were hair books, but the rest were all celebrity and women's magazines that customers could peruse while awaiting their turn in the chair. The one that caught her attention was a Christmas issue of a fashion magazine. It featured a very sexy brunette Mrs. Claus in a short, form-fitting, red velvet number with white fur trim.
Jill stared at the picture, recalling the day Claire had been zapped by the destabilizer beam and changed into several images from a magazine. If she could do that too… well, the best place to hide was often in plain sight, wasn't it?
Grinning, she picked up the magazine and hurried back to the bathroom. Closing the door, she concentrated on the woman on the cover. Claire had told her that she'd simply focused on the image and wished she'd looked like the picture and her body had changed. Jill now tried to do the same thing.
She stared hard, thinking she wanted to look like it, needed to look like it, had to look like it. But nothing seemed to happen. She didn't feel any sudden tingle or anything. Tossing the magazine aside with frustration, she sagged back against the wall and glared at herself in the mirror, freezing when she found a stranger glaring back.
"But I didn't feel a thing," she murmured, raising a hand and touching her face, eyes widening with disbelief as the brunette mirrored her actions.
It really was her. She'd shifted. She was the magazine Mrs. Claus. Well, mostly. The fur trim was sticking out from under the collar of her t-shirt. She stared at herself for a moment and then began to laugh even as she began to rip off her clothes. As had happened with Claire, her body had taken on not just the other woman's features, but the shape and color of her clothes as well. Her own clothes looked bulky on top.
Removing the last bit of clothing, Jill paused and stared at her new self. She was a brunette with a slim figure that made her smile. But the smile faded to a frown as she realized the costume was clingy and far too sexy for a parade meant for families and children. Concentrating on the hem, she tried to think it a little longer, relief coursing through her when it suddenly lengthened, dropping from mid-thigh to knee length.
It was still rather form fitting, but would have to do, Jill decided. She had to get moving and now it was safe to. Even if he did see her on the float, John Heathcliffe would never recognize her, she thought with satisfaction.
Jill hurried from the bathroom and out of the shop, pulling the door closed as ordered. She paused long enough to be sure it had locked as Bev said it would, and then hurried up the alley to the parking lot at the end of the street.
There were people everywhere in the parking lot: elves, human reindeer, toy soldiers, snowmen, and people in band uniforms. The elves were made up of a combination of children and little people. Jill was reminded of the presence of several of the dwarves in the parade when someone goosed her and she whirled to find herself staring down at a grinning little man in an elf costume. Only the cigar hanging from his lips ruined the image of one of Santa's elves.