Pumped to torture me, more like. But I’ve got to put on a brave face for Sam.Come on, muscles, lift those lips.
Sam’s brows lower. “What?” he prompts.
“We weren’t exactly friends in high school,” I say. That’s putting it mildly.
“Hey, high school. Everybody’s awful in high school, right?”
“I wasn’t.”
He smiles at that. “No, you weren’t. You were a good kid. Still are. And, man, look at you now. You’re a star.”
Twinkle, twinkle. I hope I can manage to shine just a little tonight when I have to face Gwendolyn.
Three
She awoke that morning knowing something special was going to happen to her.
—Hailey Fairchild,What the Heart Seeks
Gwendolyn arrives at the house looking like I’d love to look—stylin’ and smilin’, wearing that red wool coat I’d imagined myself in, along with black leather gloves and a black scarf around her neck. Her hair is long and perfectly cut and highlighted with silver and lavender, flowing onto her shoulders. Her makeup is also perfect—eyeliner that makes her eyes look feline and sexy, a flashy neon-green eye shadow, and fun little faux star tats scattered along her cheekbones like freckles.
Wouldn’t you know I have to be the one to open the door and let her in. Sam’s upstairs showering, Mom and Gram are in the kitchen, and Dad is making a last-minute run to the store for more eggnog with Grandpa as his wingman. So, it’s just me and Gwendolyn, face-to-face. At least I don’t have any zits she can point out anymore.
“Hailey,” she says and gives me a smile that doesn’t make it to her eyes.
“Gwendolyn,” I say. Okay, now we each know who we are.
I step back from the door, and she slithers in and sheds her coat, handing it to me to hang up. Designer jeans, baby-blue sweater to match her eyes, great boots. I refuse to let myself feel jealous.
“Everyone’s excited you’re back,” she says. Her tone of voice adds,Heaven only knows why.
“It’s nice to come home for a visit,” I say.
“Only a visit? Don’t you miss home?”
“I miss my family.”But I sure don’t miss people like you.
She gives her hair a shake so it will fall just so. It shimmers. Gorgeous.
“I like your hair,” I say. I hate to compliment her and feed her ego, but I can’t help myself. Her hairisgorgeous. And anyway, I have to be nice since she’s with Sam.Oh, please, Lord, don’t let this turn out to be permanent.
She smiles. “We specialize in color at Hair Today. Did Sam tell you I’m a stylist there?”
“Uh, no.” Not that I’d asked what she was doing. Not that I cared. One thing I know she’s been doing—deceiving Sam into thinking she’s nice.
Okay, she could be now. I could be imagining these adversarial vibes. I need to give her a chance.
“I love what I do,” she adds, almost as if she needs to justify her chosen profession.
“Making beautiful women more beautiful,” I say. Okay, that sounds envious and immature. “It’s got to be fun.”
“It is. Everyone’s beautiful in her own way,” Gwendolyn adds. “You should come in and let me do your hair, get you all glam for the holidays.”
“Yeah?” What’s her hidden agenda?
“Yeah. It can be my good deed for Christmas.”
Was that supposed to come off as cute? It doesn’t. It sounds condescending. I still can’t believe my brother has fallen for this woman.
