Trouble In Bloom (6 page)

"Don't get excited. It was just one of the residents of the retirement home where I'm doing a mini."

"Was it murder?"

"I doubt it. People there are old. Old people die. Naturally."

"Or it's made to look natural."

"I gotta go," I said before she could launch into a history of famous serial killers.

"Just keep an eye out when you're there."

"Good-bye!"

Glancing down at the blotter, I spotted Perry's name again . . . And my afternoon was suddenly free. I grabbed my phone.

A perky receptionist at Azure answered. "I'm sorry," she said, "but our stylists aren't allowed to accept calls. Do you wish to leave a message?"

"Do you know if he has any appointments open for this afternoon? Can you ask him? Tell him it's for Nina?"

"I'm not sure . . . "

"Please? If you could see my hair you'd understand."

"Please hold." Every woman understood bad hair days. Or years, as was apparently my case.

A second later she came back on the line. "He says to come in as soon as possible."

I glanced at the clock. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Do you drive like that all the time?" Roxie clung to her little notebook. Her pale skin had lost all hint of color.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Need to sit down."

I helped her into a chair in Azure's reception area. I noticed two men sitting near the Wi-fitable. One had a camera just like Nels's.

Nels spotted them too. "What are you doing here, George, Joe?"

"George? Joe?" I asked.

"They work for
Hitched or Ditched
too."

"Ah." That made sense. They were probably Perry's team.

"Working," the cameraman said.

"Working?" Nels parroted.

"Perry Owens."

Nels looked at me. "Are you coming to see Perry?"

I nodded.

"You could have told us."

"Does it matter?"

He grumbled. "Not really. Just like to be prepared."

"Ugh, I feel sick," Roxie moaned.

"Oh, my driving wasn't that bad!" I snapped.

Her eyebrows dipped, she slapped a hand over her mouth and lurched for the bathroom door.

"Was it?" I asked Nels.

"Nah. She gets carsick."

"Don't field producers need to be in cars a lot?"

Nels shrugged.

"Nina!" Perry rushed over and kissed both my cheeks. "I'm so glad you came by." He walked a circle around me, finger to his lips. "I cannot wait to get my hands on you."

Nels hefted his camera, aimed.

"Uh," George warned, starting to stand.

"You!" A cute little thing came bustling out from behind the desk, snapping her fingers. She was maybe five-one, five-two tops, with wide eyes, great cheekbones, and an angular haircut that accented her features. She wore black from neck to toe.

George sat. Grinned.

"Me?" Nels said.

"Yes, you. No filming. Azure prohibits it."

Nels glared at me.

"What? I didn't know."

"I'll take care of it, Justine," Perry cooed to the outraged receptionist. To Nels, he said, "Nina will be out in no time."

"How long is no time?" Nels asked.

"A little while. Relax, read a magazine, nap."

Nels slumped into the vacant chair next to George.

Perry whispered to me, "You've got two hours of freedom, at least."

"Really?"

Leading me around the frosted glass partition, he motioned to a chair, and I slid into it. With the fl air of a toreador, he slipped a silky black cape around my shoulders, fastened it at my neck.

"You're so lucky you don't have to be filmed all day." I used the mirror to look at him.

"So I've heard. Mario's already called three times about his crew. They're following him all over the courthouse— even to the bathroom."

"Courthouse? What does he do?"

"Court stenographer."

"I'm surprised the county okayed the filming."

"The judge Mario works most for is up for reelection."

"That explains it."

He nodded. "Okay." His fingers dove into my hair. "For color, I'm seeing honeycomb with a hint of oatmeal."

"Perry," I said. "English."

"Don't tell me you're a virgin? Your hair! Your hair!" he quickly explained at my look of shock.

For a second there I was reminded of the last person who'd asked me if I was a virgin. I'd ended up digging up her body. I didn't think I should share that story with Perry.

I forced out a laugh to hide my sudden discomfort. "As pure as the driven snow."

He squealed with glee. "I'll be right back."

Azure had many styling stations zigzagged across the room—most filled. I spotted a familiar face on the other side of the room and nearly fell out of my chair.

Perry came back, all smiles as he set down two bowls and a handful of foil sheets.

"Is that Genevieve Sala over there?" I asked.

"Comes in every week."

"Is that how you know so much about her?"

Running the end of a comb over my scalp, he separated hair. "There are no secrets here."

I'd remember that.

Perry pulled a section of hair up, slipped a foil over it and slathered on what looked to be butterscotch pudding.

"What's she saying about the threat?"

"All a misunderstanding. A prank."

"Did you see the news last night?"

"Never miss it. That Carson Keyes is one good-lookin' man." He grinned. "Don't tell Mario I said that."

"My lips are sealed."

"I hear Genevieve's been bombarded with calls from reporters all day. She only took the one from E.T."

"
Entertainment Tonight
? Wow. Word travels fast."

"Almost like they were tipped off. Why else would they care two whits about a low-budget Cincinnati game show? Though, the country does love a good scandal, and the behind -the-scenes stuff on this show has the makings of one."

I met his gaze in the mirror. "So, you think the note's a fake too?"

"Faker than her D cups."

"Really? Those are fake? They look so real."

"Good surgeon, sugar pie."

Perry added more goop, more foils. I tried not to look. Or to worry. Worry was what the old Nina would do.

I unclenched my hands, folded them in my lap. "Do you know what happened with Jessica? Did she quit?"

"Fired. Faster than Mario after—" He grinned. "That's TMI."

I laughed.

Goop oozed off his paintbrush-thingy. "Genevieve. That's what happened to Jessica Ayers."

"What do you mean?"

He leaned in. "Do you want the cover story or the real story?"

"Real, of course."

"Thad was teaching an improv class at U.C. this past summer when he met Genevieve."

"A student?"

"You got it. Thad introduced Genevieve to Willie—at her request. Willie fell head over heels. They were married within a month. It took just about that long for Thad and Genevieve to convince Willie she had more potential than Jessica to sell the show to the major networks. Jess is all fl uff, no substance. I don't think Willie knows what hit him."

"You think Genevieve married him just to get on the show?"

"Without a doubt."

Foil stuck out all over my head. I tried not to look. "Do you think he knows she used him?"

"Rumor is they've been fighting a lot. Could be Genevieve's shine has worn clear off."

The romantic in me asked, "Do you think she ever loved him?"

Perry laughed. "Sugar, in their world they only love themselves. There are already rumors about affairs, but no one's naming names."

Including me.

"Although Gen would have to be crazy to cheat on Willie."

I glanced over at her. She didn't look crazy, but I'd seen her cheating with my own eyes. "Why's that?"

Perry separated more hair. Just how many foils was he going to use?

"She has a lot to lose," he said, "if Willie ever found out."

"Besides her job, you mean?"

"There was an ironclad prenup, and from what I hear, Genevieve was a maid at the Westin until she married Willie."

"Willie actually has money? Everything I've seen about the show is low-budget."

"He doesn't have money now, but when that network deal goes through, he'll be rolling in the dough."

"So Genevieve is his meal ticket?"

"Genevieve and Thad. They have amazing chemistry. Just sizzle together. The good boy/bad girl stuff."

I'd seen their sizzle with my own eyes, and wished I could forget it.

"Perry, what would you say if I told you that Jessica Ayers was filing a sexual harassment case against Willie Sala?"

He finished putting another foil in my hair. Just like that, I resembled one of my mother's Easter hams. I unclenched my hands again. So much for not worrying.

"I'd say she was lying, Nina."

"Honeycomb" turned out to be a soft honey brown, about three shades lighter than my normal color, and the "oatmeal" was the barest hint of blonde.

I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror.

I didn't recognize me.

It wasn't just the hair. It was the newly waxed eyebrows, the manicure, the pedicure, and the makeup too. I actually had on lip gloss.

Lip gloss!

And, God help me, I actually liked it.

My mother was going to freak out.

And my sister Maria too. I put earplugs on my mental shopping list.

And not only did I not recognize myself, Nels and Roxie had actually looked right past me when I finally emerged from Azure's inner sanctum.

An hour later, back at the office, they still stared as though someone had played a trick on them and the old me would march into my office to boot out the imposter.

No one else had seen me yet. Brickhouse had been out walking BeBe when we'd gotten back, Deanna was still at the nursery, and everyone else had left for the day.

I finished up some paperwork, flipped through a Burpee's

catalog for inspiration for a mini scheduled next spring. I kept having a vision of a garden. A peaceful, fragrant space with trickling water and a hammock. I doodled my initial impressions on a drawing pad. Somehow I'd work it into one of my designs.

Glancing over at Roxie and Nels, I noticed Nels nodding off. His head kept drooping forward, then jerking upright.

"Why don't you two go get some lunch? I'm just going to be doing paperwork until meeting with Deanna at three." I slid open my desk drawer, pulled out a couple of take-out menus for nearby restaurants.

They looked at each other, then Roxie stood up and snatched the menus out of my hand. I think she still blamed me for her carsickness. She'd been okay on the way home, though, thanks to a quick run to Walgreens for some Dramamine. Too bad my sister Maria hadn't been around—she always has some on hand to use as impromptu sleeping pills, despite warnings from everyone about proper usage.

"Should we order in?" Roxie asked Nels.

He looked at me.

"Really, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to work on a design, then meet with Deanna. After that I'm going to head home to get ready for tonight. Bo-ring."

"Okay, okay!" he said. "We'll go out. But we'll be back soon. And if Bobby calls—"

"Don't tell us," Roxie said. "If we don't know, then we won't care."

"Okay."

She tipped her head, looked at me. "I like that eye shadow."

"Majestic purple."

"It goes well with your eyes. Makes them not so . . . "

"Muddy?"

"I was thinking moldy."

My eyes were a dark green that bordered on brown. Unfortunately, moldy was an apt description. "Thanks. I think."

BeBe's bark announced Brickhouse's return before the

chimes on the door. I heard her cluck—I assumed at Roxie and Nels. "Going somewhere?"

"Lunch?" Roxie answered. It came out as a question rather than a statement. It was clear to me Brickhouse Krauss terrified her.

"Ach. Not very professional, are you?"

I walked to the doorway. "Stop scaring the poor girl, Mrs. Krauss."

BeBe strained at her leash until Brickhouse finally let go. BeBe galloped over to me, threw her paws on my shoulders and slobbered my face.

Brickhouse turned toward me. "Scare? Me? I'd nev—"

The pair made their escape as Brickhouse froze, staring at me. I'd known the woman for fifteen years, and I'd never seen her speechless. Until now.

I pushed BeBe off of me, rubbed her ears.

Brickhouse finally found her voice. "What the hell happened to you?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Perry."

"Your mama's going to have a heart attack. You better call and warn her."

I probably should, I thought.

She stepped closer, inspecting. "It's about time, Nina Ceceri, that you started acting like a girl."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't go getting all nice on me now."

She clucked. "Ach. I don't do nice."

"I'm aware."

Her lip twitched and she smiled. Brickhouse Krauss actually smiled. At me. Miracles never ceased.

"Come, BeBe," she said. "Some of us have work to do."

I closed my door and went back to my desk. I played a game of FreeCell and lost. Then I waited five minutes— just long enough to know that Roxie and Nels were well and truly gone—and flipped open my phone. I'd been waiting all day to make this call, but had to get rid of Roxie and Nels first.

Tam's home phone rang and rang until it finally went to voice mail. "Tam? It's Nina. Are you there? The camera people aren't here right now, so if you're there, please pick up. Is Nic really sick? Or a—"