I squeezed my eyes tight and nodded. “It’s time.”
“All right, I’m just going to cut straight across first and then clean up the style after. Any idea what you want other than the length?”
Since I was already making such a big change, why not go all the way with it? “How about adding a couple highlights? Nothing too colorful, but something to really contrast against the black.”
She whistled as she ran her hands through my hair. “You’re really going for it, huh? I know just the style for you. Will you trust me?”
Absolutely not, I wanted to scream. “Uh, sure.”
“Close your eyes. This is going to be so much fun!”
I obeyed her instructions, stomach churning at giving up so much control, and as she got to work, I racked my brain for how to lead the conversation in the direction I wanted.
The chemical scent of bleach and hair dye filled my nose as I heard Winnie opening bottles and mixing the concoction she was going to paint on my hair. “So how’ve you been? Got a lot going on with your new shop and pageant duties and everything else.”
She hesitated over that last part, giving me the perfect in.
“Yeah, it’s definitely been a stressful couple of weeks, that’s for sure. I mean, opening my own business is hectic enough but this thing with Rob is . . . I don’t even know.”
Her hands stilled and I heard her take a deep breath before she resumed applying the dye on the hair framing my face. “It’s scary, that’s what it is. If Katie didn’t need that scholarship so badly, I’d pull her out of the pageant. Not that she’d let me. She loves it, even begged me to let her continue.”
“I’m glad you have your daughter’s safety in mind. Really hoping it was just a one-off thing though. I’d hate to think anyone was targeting the pageant, you know?”
Winnie laughed. “I’m a single mother. Everything I do is with Katie in mind. She’s not going to end up like me, that’s for sure.”
I started to gesture around the salon, then realized excessive movements when someone was wielding scissors and hair dye around me was a bad idea. “You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. This place is way nicer than the salon I remember back in high school.”
She wrapped foil around the dye-covered hair and swiveled the chair around. “You can open your eyes now. I’m going to grab the heat lamp and you’ll need to sit under it for about thirty minutes. Be right back.”
She switched her soiled gloves for clean ones, then hurried to the back and came out dragging what looked like a bunch of spotlights glued together. She plugged it in and directed all the lights at my hair. “Better make yourself nice and comfortable, Lila. Do you want a drink while you wait? We got coffee, tea, wine, and mimosas.”
Might as well go full-on Treat Yo’ Self. “I’ll have a mimosa, please.”
“Coming right up. Katie!” she called. “We need a mimosa over here.”
“Isn’t Katie underage? You let her serve the alcohol?”
She shrugged. “Not like she’s drinking it. Besides, you think the cops care?”
From her tone, they clearly did not. It’s like every time I thought the Shady Palms PD couldn’t get any lazier, they were like, Hold my beer! But in this case, they were saying it to a minor.
Katie appeared a few minutes later with an icy champagne flute. “Here you go, Lila. Mom, Mr. Weinman is here again. Says he needs to talk to you.”
Winnie groaned. “You think he’d get a clue. Sorry, Lila, this’ll only take a minute.”
I held up my mimosa. “No worries. I got my drink and another twenty minutes to go under this heat lamp.”
“And I’ll stay here to keep her company,” Katie said.
“See, I’m in good hands.”
Winnie smiled at that and went out in the parking lot to talk to Mr. Weinman.
“So, he comes by a lot?” I asked, sipping my drink. Wow, it was made with fresh-squeezed orange juice. Way better than I thought it’d be. Must remember to do this self-care thing more often.
Katie shrugged. “He’s always had a crush on Mom, and now that his wife left, he seems to think this is his chance. Poor guy.”
“She’s not interested?”
Katie shook her head. “If she wanted another man in her life, he’d have to be able to take care of both of us. Like, with money or whatever. Mr. Weinman can barely keep that store open, so he’s a waste of time, in her mind.”