Excerpt Four

“Beauty starts with being yourself”~ Coco Chanel

“Hi honey! I am so excited for you to get that boring hair of yours done. Oh and Isabelle is excited for us to come by and try on fabulous clothes.” I couldn’t help but love Elizabeth’s bluntness. I actually appreciated it and it made me laugh. We sat there each with a glass of Chablis in hand. When the olives and peanuts were set in front of us, Elizabeth proclaimed, “Oh no. See none of this we eat. Sweetie you need to be diligent and every little thing adds up. I don’t eat any of this shit they bring.” I smiled and nodded in agreement. I couldn’t help but want to say, yes but you drink a bottle of wine at least per day and a stiff drink every night at 5 pm, but I didn’t. I think a few olives to offset the blood sugar rise from the wine alone wouldn’t kill me, but I listened to the beauty queen and didn’t touch them. Elizabeth talked about Paris and how if she would have had it her way, she would have stayed in LA. I couldn’t relate, as I thought her life sounded picture perfect. Let’s see… marry a French chef and be whisked away to Paris, own a restaurant and live in the posche 16th arrondissement. But the dream is always better than the reality usually, however with my experience so far in Paris, the reality had been even better than the dream.

I finished the last drop of Chardonnay in my glass, and then we headed up the street to the hair salon. Elizabeth greeted the small Asian male hairdresser with not two bisous, but four or five back and forth kisses. They embraced in a hug and she turned to introduce me. He was muscular and fit however small, and had bleached blond hair that was spiked. He was wearing a patent leather black apron and jeans with the ever-fashionable holes and tears in them. Elizabeth explained to him in French, of course, that my hair was rather boring in color and we needed a rich, deep auburn or rich chestnut brown. He nodded his head in agreement as Elizabeth was translating their opinions to me on color. He spoke zero English so I was thankful to have Elizabeth here performing the translation. He ran his hands through my scalp rather aggressively and went ahead to mix the color.

An hour and half later he led me to the chair where the adorable old lady who also posed as the secretary would blow-dry my hair. I was so excited to get a blow out; I hadn’t gotten my hair done in ages so I felt pretty pampered. She finally flipped my head over to reveal the beautiful color he had mastered. Elizabeth’s mouth dropped and all eyes on me agreed it was a million dollar color job. I had to agree; the dark rich brown with slight red hues went perfectly against my skin tone. He had done a brilliant job and I felt so happy with the outcome, especially on the night of my date with Damien. Just then I received the following text message from Damien.

I hope you are fine with Indian food. Also, tomorrow I will work which will mean we will not sleep together this night but we can spend sometime in my place. Telling you that for your organization.