Let the games begin.
10
I’m not sure what time I nodded off in the end, but when I wake up, the sun is once again shining through the window, daring me to get up. I groan, looking at my alarm clock and seeing that it’s after twelve. Bloody hell, I’m getting lazy. I think Jake’s exhausting me more than I realize.
Jumping out of bed, I head straight for the shower. After I get dressed, I decide to pick up my phone to text Jessie.
Me: I’m going to take your advice. Heading to my hair appointment now and will buy my knockout dress. Take care, and have a great time at the wedding. xx
It isn’t long before I hear the dulcet tones of a text message.
Jessie: Great! Remember to knock his socks off, and flirt with every guy in the room. Off to get my hair done now and change into this lemon dress my cousin is making me wear! Have fun. Love u xx
After five minutes of trying to find my car keys, I quickly grab my bag and head out. I walk down the stairs, and all is luckily quiet again. I turn towards the garage door to get my car.
It’s a typically busy Friday, lots of cars around with people doing their shopping. I manage to find a space after a while of searching, and once out of the car, I’m longing for some release from the heat of the day already. I get to the door and a lovely gentleman with dark olive skin, cropped brown hair, and light brown eyes opens the door for me. He gives me a wide grin, and I say thank you to which he replies, “You’re welcome, señorita.”
I pass through, feeling his gaze on my back, but I carry on. I have a mission to accomplish.
In the end, I get to the salon by two-twenty and breathe a sigh of relief that stage one is now complete.
Jamal, my hairdresser, comes walking over with a wide grin. He’s black, tall, skinny, and as gay as they come. He’s a brilliant guy who always sends me into hysterics whenever I visit.
“Hey, sweet-cheeks, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in months. Has some sweet hunk of a man been hiding you away from me?”
I laugh and give him a hug. “I wish, Jamal. Why do you think I’m here? I need to show him what I’ve got. Do you think you can help me?”
Jamal frowns then shows me the biggest grin. “Hey, girl—whoever he is—first of all, he needs a good slap. Second of all, could he be gay? ‘Cause you can send his mighty fine ass over to me, whoever he is.”
I laugh. “How on earth do you know whether he is fine or not?”
He looks at me and frowns. “Have you seen you? If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m a total man’s man, I would be in your panties quicker than a policeman on a Dunkin’ donut.”
I gasp in shock. “Jamal, stop it!”
“I’m sorry, but it’s true. He must be damn fine. Anyway, who is he so I can go and kick his straight ass some sense?”
I slump and heave out a big sigh. “It’s complicated, but he will be at a party later this evening, and I want to look my best.”
“Well, you have come to the right place, sweet-cheeks. Marissa, you get my girl here made up, and then I’ll do her hair.”
My eyes widen. I am getting more than I bargained for here. “Jamal, it’s okay. I can do my makeup later.”
He waves his finger at me. “N’uh uh. Do not argue with Jamal. By the time we get done with you, he’ll be begging you to take him back.”
I give him a sweet smile. “Thanks, Jamal. I appreciate it.”
“No worries. It’s on me.”
I gasp. “No, I couldn’t.”
He looks affronted. “Shhh, now hush yourself, girl, I insist. Now go to Marissa. She’s the best in Virginia.”
I smile at him, relenting and turning to see a beaming Marissa staring at me. “Well, aren’t you a pretty girl. Looks like you will make my job very easy for me today.”
Marissa was great. She’s a very bubbly, blonde-haired lady with brown eyes. Her hair and makeup are as pristine, as you would imagine, and she has a beauty spot on her right cheek. I’m not sure if it was real, but I didn’t want to get too close to confirm my suspicions.
I’m impressed with the way Marissa has done my makeup. I’m a transformed woman. Thank goodness she didn’t plaster too much on. I hate it when women wear too much face paint. I never thought it looked right. My face, on the other hand, looks fresh with a touch of red on the cheeks. My eyes are very lightly colored brown, and my lips have a lovely, rosy tinted shine. I must admit, she’s good.
“Marissa, I’m so grateful, thank you. It looks great.”
She beams back at me. “Just remember me when this guy you’re trying to impress asks you to marry him and you’re trying to find someone to do your makeup for your special day.”
I turn from the mirror about to contradict her when Jamal pipes up. “Marissa, she looks wonderful. Well done, girl.” He turns to me. “Now, Ana, come with me.”
I glance around to Marissa and thank her before sitting down in my seat to have my hair washed. A young girl called Betsy washes my hair. She’s only seventeen and does this every Saturday to give her some pocket money. She doesn’t like to rely on her parents to provide for her, and I admire her independence. After she is done, I tip her ten bucks, and she’s ecstatic. I walk over to Jamal’s station and sit down.
“Curls, lots of luscious curls. How does that sound?” he asks.
I nod my agreement. “Sounds fantastic. Bring it on. I trust you.”
He gets to work on my hair, and half an hour later my hair is transformed from wavy hair to lots of luscious curls, just like he said.
“Wow. Thank you. I would never to be able to do this myself.”
He blushes, and I stand up to give him a hug. “Now you go get him, tiger,” he winks.
I say my thanks and pay at the till. I insist on paying for the makeup, but Jamal won’t have any of it. Instead, I tip him generously. Once all has been paid, I say my goodbyes and walk out the door.
Stage two is complete. Now, on to stage three—the dress.
I look around a few stores and eventually walk into Bloomingdales, where I try on a few things. In the end, I settle for a lovely, figure hugging, Geranium colored dress, and to my surprise, I also find a nice black and white striped bikini to replace my old one.
I check the time, and it’s four-thirty, so I know I had better be heading back. With stage three complete, I need to move on to stage four, and that means I need to get home with plenty of time to spare.
11
Once back from the mall, I feel refreshed. I also feel a little nervous about what to expect, but I know I have to do this. It’s now or never.
I get to the door, bags in tow, hoping and praying that Jake won’t be in the living room when I walk in.
I tentatively put the key in and hold my breath. I push the door in gently and peek into the vast space. He isn’t here.
My shoulders sag as I breathe a sigh of relief. He must be outside, getting the barbecue ready. I quietly shut the door behind me and rush upstairs. It’s now five-twenty, so the guests will be arriving soon. With that thought, I rush into my room and shut the door.
Mission five is complete. Now it’s time for the hardest part—mission six.