The Perfect Happiness(32)
“Oh p-lease!” wailed Candace.
“There are many roads to Rome. Besides, it must be working,” said Letizia. “You’re glowing like an oven.”
“He can’t get enough of me. I think being pregnant turns him on. It makes him feel virile.”
“Little does he know,” said Candace.
Kate shot her a look. “It’s his. I’m sure it’s his. I was just being overdramatic.”
“Not you,” Candace added with a grin. “You’re never that.”
The day before Angelica’s lunch with Jack, she sat beside Candace at Richard Ward’s Metro Spa in Duke of York’s Square, sipping Earl Grey tea and waiting for Thomas to come and highlight her hair. The ruggedly handsome James was already adding lights to Candace’s rich brown locks. Being a natural blonde, Angelica had never felt she needed dye, but Candace had convinced her that Thomas would lift her look while keeping it natural.
“Thomas will hide all your little flaws. He’s a genius,” she told her, extending one hand to the manicurist, who sat on a stool at her feet. “And he’s a vault like me. He knows where all the elephants lie buried and will take that knowledge to his grave. Trust me, no code breaker can crack him.”
The salon was vast—room upon shiny room of mirrors and sleek black chairs; legions of black-uniformed juniors washing hair and standing to attention behind the technicians, who were all frighteningly cool, suntanned, and good-looking; the air infused with the smell of Kérastase. “Ah, you must be Angelica,” said Thomas, breezing in followed by a pretty junior with waist-length blond hair.
“This is she,” said Candace. “You’re to make her even more beautiful than she already is.”
“Oh really!” Angelica protested, embarrassed.
Thomas scrutinized her hair. “I know just what you need. You have lovely hair, by the way—very thick and in good condition. You’re lucky, it has a natural wave, but not frizzy—a cross between Farrah Fawcett circa 1974 and Meg Ryan of When Harry Met Sally fame. Leave it to me.”
Angelica glanced at Candace, terrified. “Relax. Thomas knows what’s good for you. Lie back and enjoy it.” She grinned at James in the mirror. “She’s a virgin, but she’ll learn to be a hair whore like me.”
James laughed. “The word ‘whore’ sounds strange coming from your pretty lips.”
“You’d be surprised what I can come out with when pushed,” she replied, giving the manicurist her other hand. “My angelic face fools people into thinking I’m a pushover, but my acerbic tongue gets me what I want.”
“So, Angelica, you’re determined to have lunch with Jack?”
“You think I’m mad.”
“You know what? I do think you’re crazy, but I also think you’re entitled to have some fun. Just be careful.”
“I will.”
“You have a nice life. Don’t go screw it up over a flirt. It’s not worth it. Once you lose Olivier’s trust, you’ll never get it back.”
“I won’t lose it, Candace. I’m not intending to have an affair.”
“Few women go out with the intention of having an affair. One thing leads to another, but it usually starts with lunch.”
“He’s a nice guy. I’m enjoying the attention. But that’s all it is, I promise.”
“I don’t want to have to pick up the pieces.”
“You won’t have to. It’ll just be lunch.”
Candace caught James’s eye in the mirror. He didn’t look at all surprised. In his seven years at Richard Ward he had heard just about everything.
Thomas returned with bowls of dye and sheets of tin foil, and began pinning up her hair. Duffy’s husky voice rang out from the sound system: “I’m begging you for mercy, why won’t you release me.” Candace flicked through In Style magazine with her free hand. “So where’s he taking you?”
“Daphne’s.”
“That’s a little dangerous, isn’t it?”
“It’s better to go somewhere normal than be seen in some obscure restaurant in Richmond.”
“You have a point. What are you going to tell Olivier?”
“That I’m having lunch with my publisher.”
“Whom he’s never met.”
“Correct.”
“And if you see someone you know? How will you introduce him?”
“As Jack.”
Candace raised an eyebrow. “You’re really playing with fire.”
“I know.”
After Thomas had finished coloring her hair, a junior led Angelica into a room full of sinks and reclining chairs that looked more like beds. Vast flat-screen televisions playing CNN were set up on each wall. She lay back and let the girl wash her hair and give her a deep conditioning treatment and massage. She shut her eyes and emptied her mind of thoughts.