Latina attorney?”
“I think I could suffer through an introduction.”
Nikki folded her arms again. “Good, I’ll call you with the details later—after she agrees.”
“It sounds like a plan.” He shrugged. “And in the end, if it doesn’t work out with those two, maybe you’ll give me a chance.”
She smiled. “Perhaps.” Though she doubted she’d be in a receptive emotional state if Tor completely rejected her.
He covered her hand with his, brought it to his lips, and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Come on, let’s get you ready.”
Their next stop was the makeup room. She’d never been in this section of the building before. The stylists and makeup crew were incredibly territorial, and she’d never had much reason to venture further than the executive dining room on the twelfth floor. Girlish excitement bubbled to the surface when the line of beauty products and tools came into view. Playing with her mother’s makeup on a photo shoot was one of the few good memories she had from her childhood. So many colors and products. It was like crack for beauty queens.
“Girl, I know that look.” José, the senior makeup artist, waved a ring-clad finger at her. “Like you’ve woken up to find Adonis naked, holding two cups of steaming coffee and a dozen doughnuts.” He winked at her. “If you know what I mean.”
“Nice visual, José,” Creed said.
She laughed. “Am I that transparent?”
“It happens to all of us, honey.” He motioned her over to a swivel chair. “Cosmetics are in our blood.”
“I’ll leave you in José’s capable hands.” Creed checked his watch. “What are we thinking, two hours?”
“Oh honey, by that time we’ll have her looking like Aphrodite herself.”
“Sounds good.” Creed waved. “I’ll check back.”
“You do that.” José winked and shook his head. “Thank you to whoever decided to hire that man. He’s just delicious.”
Nikki had met José once, but mainly knew of him by reputation. Everything she’d ever heard seemed to be true. White skinny pants hugged birdlike legs, and a fluorescent green-and-blue scarf draped gracefully about his neck. The small paunch and deep crow’s feet around his eyes tagged him as middle-aged, but his flamboyant style contradicted any hint of a sedentary lifestyle.
“You’re welcome.” Nikki smiled and climbed into the chair. “Though I merely suggested Mr. Killion for the job.”
I just bet you did.
There were the voices in her head again. She stared at José, positive his lips had not moved, but the look on his face told her he thought she was sleeping with Creed. Mind reading—definitely a cause to call up the psychiatrist.
“So,” she said, deciding not to mention her oddly disturbing ability, “what are you going to do to me?” She ignored José’s reference to her and Creed having a relationship. Being the face of Goddess was supposed to be a fun pastime, but she still needed to remain professional. “I’m open to anything.”
She’d seen José’s work. The man was a genius.
He pulled the elastic from her hair and let it spill around her shoulders. With a ruffling motion, he fluffed her tangled mass. A girlish pout creased his mouth when he picked several strands and held them up like a dead mouse. “Were you going for the street urchin look?”
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Girl, I’ve seen more style on roadkill.”
“Wow, harsh.” She stroked her hair, toying with the ends. “All right, tell me what magic you’re going to perform.”
“Not me, honey. I fix the face.”
He stepped aside and a tall Asian woman wearing what looked like a tool belt approached. Scissors of varying sizes and several other haircutting implements jutted from the pockets.
“This is Miko. She’s going to update your hair.”
Nikki smiled but Miko didn’t smile back, already focused on her task.
She sifted Nikki’s hair through her fingers, rubbing the strands between her thumb and
“I think I could suffer through an introduction.”
Nikki folded her arms again. “Good, I’ll call you with the details later—after she agrees.”
“It sounds like a plan.” He shrugged. “And in the end, if it doesn’t work out with those two, maybe you’ll give me a chance.”
She smiled. “Perhaps.” Though she doubted she’d be in a receptive emotional state if Tor completely rejected her.
He covered her hand with his, brought it to his lips, and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Come on, let’s get you ready.”
Their next stop was the makeup room. She’d never been in this section of the building before. The stylists and makeup crew were incredibly territorial, and she’d never had much reason to venture further than the executive dining room on the twelfth floor. Girlish excitement bubbled to the surface when the line of beauty products and tools came into view. Playing with her mother’s makeup on a photo shoot was one of the few good memories she had from her childhood. So many colors and products. It was like crack for beauty queens.
“Girl, I know that look.” José, the senior makeup artist, waved a ring-clad finger at her. “Like you’ve woken up to find Adonis naked, holding two cups of steaming coffee and a dozen doughnuts.” He winked at her. “If you know what I mean.”
“Nice visual, José,” Creed said.
She laughed. “Am I that transparent?”
“It happens to all of us, honey.” He motioned her over to a swivel chair. “Cosmetics are in our blood.”
“I’ll leave you in José’s capable hands.” Creed checked his watch. “What are we thinking, two hours?”
“Oh honey, by that time we’ll have her looking like Aphrodite herself.”
“Sounds good.” Creed waved. “I’ll check back.”
“You do that.” José winked and shook his head. “Thank you to whoever decided to hire that man. He’s just delicious.”
Nikki had met José once, but mainly knew of him by reputation. Everything she’d ever heard seemed to be true. White skinny pants hugged birdlike legs, and a fluorescent green-and-blue scarf draped gracefully about his neck. The small paunch and deep crow’s feet around his eyes tagged him as middle-aged, but his flamboyant style contradicted any hint of a sedentary lifestyle.
“You’re welcome.” Nikki smiled and climbed into the chair. “Though I merely suggested Mr. Killion for the job.”
I just bet you did.
There were the voices in her head again. She stared at José, positive his lips had not moved, but the look on his face told her he thought she was sleeping with Creed. Mind reading—definitely a cause to call up the psychiatrist.
“So,” she said, deciding not to mention her oddly disturbing ability, “what are you going to do to me?” She ignored José’s reference to her and Creed having a relationship. Being the face of Goddess was supposed to be a fun pastime, but she still needed to remain professional. “I’m open to anything.”
She’d seen José’s work. The man was a genius.
He pulled the elastic from her hair and let it spill around her shoulders. With a ruffling motion, he fluffed her tangled mass. A girlish pout creased his mouth when he picked several strands and held them up like a dead mouse. “Were you going for the street urchin look?”
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Girl, I’ve seen more style on roadkill.”
“Wow, harsh.” She stroked her hair, toying with the ends. “All right, tell me what magic you’re going to perform.”
“Not me, honey. I fix the face.”
He stepped aside and a tall Asian woman wearing what looked like a tool belt approached. Scissors of varying sizes and several other haircutting implements jutted from the pockets.
“This is Miko. She’s going to update your hair.”
Nikki smiled but Miko didn’t smile back, already focused on her task.
She sifted Nikki’s hair through her fingers, rubbing the strands between her thumb and
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