“I’m not that easy to read, Harrigan. I’m not necessarily going to make the obvious choice,” she said, and truer words were never spoken. She was a tough one, which made her all the more alluring.
So damn alluring with her feistiness, combined with her accent, mixed with her prettiness. She had it all–brains, beauty and a prickly, take-no-prisoners attitude that drove me crazy. Crazy for her.
Then, James’s words flashed like a neon sign. Very soon.
A pang of guilt touched down inside me with the reminder that I needed to move faster; I wanted to tell Jess the full truth about my job, but I also wanted to get to know her better without an agenda. If I’d met her under other conditions, I’d still want to get to know her. Besides, once I did, then I could let down my guard about my twin motives. There. Bye, bye guilt.
“Okay then. Which color?”
“Red,” she declared as she plucked a bottle from the plexiglass shelf. “Fire engine, cherry, apple red and you must wear it for at least a day.”
“This is going to be great when I go for a swim tomorrow,” I muttered, shaking my head. I could already hear John’s voice when he saw my toes. Note to self–wear socks for next twenty-four hours. Even in the ocean.
We turned around and walked to the counter.
“One pedicure, please,” Jess said to the woman seated behind the high white desk with a daisy drawn on it. She glanced up at us, an eager look on her face quickly replaced by a bored one when she realized we were plebes, not celebs. “Go take the chair by the dryers,” she said, gesturing vaguely.
Jess scanned the shop, then leaned closer, her shoulder bumping mine. “So typical,” she mumbled.
My ears pricked. Perhaps this was a clue. “Right,” I said, then rolled my eyes and flubbed my lips.
“They always do this. Seat us regular people up front so they can keep the leather chairs by the back open in case a celeb comes in.”
Ah. Now that made perfect sense. “Well, they need to keep them away from riffraff like us,” I said, picking up the conversational thread quickly.
“Totally,” she added.
Another manicurist filled up the water in the foot tub at the base of a brown leather pedicure chair. “Did you pick a color?” she asked Jess because she probably thought she was the one getting the pedicure.
“Yes. For my friend,” Jess said with a devious twinkle in her blue eyes.
I plopped down in the seat of the chair and began untying my laced-up boots. I dropped my boots and socks on the floor, swung my feet over the water, then let them hover as I rolled up the cuffs of my jeans. I dunked my feet into the water, and leaned back into the chair. “Ah, I’m relaxed now,” I said, making a show out of enjoying myself as the manicurist began. “So Jess. I’m your friend now?”
She furrowed her brow. “Hmm?”
“You called me your friend. You said For my friend.”
She shrugged a shoulder, and looked away as her lips dared to curl up in a smile. “It’s just an expression.” She eyed me up and down. “All ready for the spa treatment?”
“Almost. There’s one more thing.” I handed her the remote control for the massager portion of the chair. “I’m going out on a limb here, Jess, but I have this feeling you might like to be in control.”
She hit the button for knead and did not bother to hide a wicked grin as the machine rollers pushed hard against my back, moving me forward like a crash test dummy with each roll.
“Ah, doesn’t that feel relaxing.” I was going to hold my own and then some with her.
“Let me give you an even more relaxing one then,” she said, clicking on the remote to boost the speed to a level that simulated bakers whacking rolling pins on my back. She pinned me with her eyes for another minute as I bumped against the industrial-strength massage chair without letting on that it was the most annoying piece of furniture ever created.
She relented, turning off the controls.“You’re relaxed now,” she said with a wink.
“I’m cool and calm and zen,” I said as the manicurist scrubbed the heel of my right foot. It tickled, so I cracked up and pulled my foot away.
That made Jess laugh. “You’re ticklish.”
“I guess we aren’t all as tough as you,” I teased, as she glanced at the door, shifting from side to side as she peered through the glass.
“You looking for someone?”
She returned her focus to me, crinkling her brow. “Aren’t you?”
“Um…” I began, but didn’t know how to continue because I was thoroughly flummoxed. I held out my arms in question. “Who would I be looking for?”
“Someone famous,” she said as if the answer were obvious.
“Right,” I said quickly, as if I were doing the same thing. I should be doing the same thing. “Of course. I’m scoping for the stars. I’ve got stars in my eyes.”
“My brother says that about me.”
“Brother. Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me about this brother since I told you about mine.”
She gave me a look as if to say I was lucky to get any information. “He’s in New York. He runs a company. He’s going to have a baby soon.”
“He is? That’s impressive. Some new advancement in science like that movie Inconceivable with the former governor of Texas who used to be the Swiss bodybuilder?”
“No! He and his wife. My god, everything that comes out of your mouth is a twisted joke,” she said, but she said it admiringly, so I was pleased.