“And you rode into town on the back of a Harley.”
Lucinda recognized the starstruck look on the man’s face. She’d seen it before, knew she’d done nothing to earn it. Still, she smiled. “Yes. With Birdie’s brother.”
“I know.” Chad returned to his customer. “She told me all about it. And the two of you are engaged. Jake’s so absolutely delicious.”
Birdie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”
“Nope,” Lucinda said. “I know Jake’s your brother, Birdie, but the man is beyond sexy.”
“I’ll second that, sweet pea.” Chad wiggled his brows over the head of hair he was now teasing into a mile-high do.
“You two make the cutest couple,” Marsha said. “When he was singing that song to you last night, I thought I’d just melt away.”
Birdie frowned and removed the cape from her client. “There you go, Vonnie Mae.” She turned to Lucinda. “What song?” Lucinda didn’t have a chance to answer.
“Last night at the Dixie Dog,” said Marsha. “Jake sang one of Keith Urban’s songs. Kept those big green eyes of his on Lucinda the whole time. I mean, wow!” She fanned herself.
“I saw pictures of that first guy you were engaged to in one of the tabloids,” Marsha continued. “Honestly, what were you thinking? The man’s a dog!”
Lucinda’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh, he’s good enough on the eyes,” Marsha said hurriedly, “but anybody can tell just lookin’ at him that the man’s a weasel. And who wants to crawl into bed with some rodent?”
Not comfortable discussing who she was crawling into bed with, Lucinda decided to change the subject. “If you could do absolutely anything with your hair, Marsha, what would it be?”
The girl’s face took on a dreamy quality. “I’d want it to look silky. And shiny. Mine’s kind of dried out.”
While Vonnie Mae paid Birdie, Marsha sat down in her chair. Coming up behind her, Lucinda pulled the blond fuzz away from Marsha’s face, let some down, experimenting, trying to see what looked best.
“Are you in love this color?” she asked.
“Not especially,” Marsha said. “But it’s what I got last time with one of them do-it-yourselfers. I’m not very good at it.”
“I think a deeper blond might look best with your skin tone.”
Marsha tipped her head, met Lucinda’s gaze in the mirror. “You know, for a rich gal, you’re not at all snooty. And you doing this for me, it’s just the nicest thing. I can’t thank you enough. Jake’s one lucky guy.”
Lucinda noticed Birdie studying her, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on between her and Jake. She ignored her, concentrating on Marsha’s hair. She liked Birdie and didn’t want this to be awkward.
“What does our expert think?”
“I think you’re dead-on,” Birdie said. “A rich, deep blond will be perfect for her.” She rolled up her hairdresser sleeves and began to work her magic on Marsha’s hair, giving her a warm base with lowlights as well as highlights.
Lucinda watched her, realizing it didn’t take five hundred dollars to get a decent haircut. Birdie, a single mom busting her butt to make ends meet, did good work. She mixed her own color, did her own towels between clients.
The buzzer dinged, indicating the towels were dry. Without a word, Lucinda moved to the laundry area to fold them. When Chad’s client was finished, Lucinda grabbed a broom and swept up while he checked her out. She felt good, better than she’d felt in a long time.
Gathering up the used towels, she carried them to the hamper. When she came back out front, Birdie was grumbling about the computer.
“What’s wrong with it?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t know.” Birdie threw her hands in the air. “My guy was in this week and installed a new program. Now I can’t get it to work.”
“Let me see what I can do,” Lucy offered.
“Please, give it your best shot.” She went over to Marsha and checked her color. “I think before I do anything else to Marsha’s hair, I need to deep condition it.”
Once she’d shampooed off the color and slathered on the conditioning treatment, she set Marsha under a dryer and handed her a magazine.
Lost in her work, Lucinda didn’t realize Birdie had come up behind her to watch until she spoke. “I don’t know how you do that.” She stopped, frowning, and picked up Lucinda’s hand. “Hey, where’s your ring?”
Lucinda curled her fist into a ball, but it was too late. Shoot! She’d forgotten all about the darn thing. “I, ah, took it off to clean at Jake’s. Guess I forgot to put it back on.”