Page 12 of Her Magic Light

“You can have a proper look.” Kate beamed at her. “And have you seen Meira’s hair? When she wears it down, it’s incredible, too. She’s the one who talked me into getting Rainbow-lite.”

I grinned at the title Kate had used.

But the woman in the suit smiled tightly, the expression looking more like pain than appreciation. “I’m sure it does. I’ve never seen hair in such colors. It’s like magic.”

“It’s art,” Kate corrected. “True craft at its finest.” She looked curiously at the woman. “So which colorway has attracted your attention? Have you seen Meira’s portfolio? The pictures on the walls are just a tiny sample of the work she does.” She lowered her voice. “And the woman can paint, too. It’s freaking unfair, right? Like some grabbed all the talent before the rest of us could get there.”

The woman shook her head, and I passed her the book I’d shared with Kate earlier.

“Here are some more styles I’ve been playing with. There are lots of colors and inspirations in there or if you have something in mind, you just let me know. The more complicated something is, the more expensive it is,” I added. “Generally.” What crazy color would the suited woman choose? Maybe she’d finally quit her tight-collar day job and wanted to cut loose. But even as the thought rolled through my mind, I knew it wasn’t correct. This woman wasn’t about to cut loose. She was wound tight, and I squelched a shiver as it dripped down my spine.

“Where did you hear about Meira?” Kate focused inquisitive eyes on the woman—but that was no surprise. Kate was ever the reporter, hungry for her next story.

Bess busied herself dusting shelves, with one ear toward us.

The woman’s eyes widened and she shrugged. “One of my friends raved about her latest hair color and here I am.”

“Yes.” Kate looked thoughtful. “Here you are. Where did you say you’re from again?”

“Oh.” The woman flinched away. “A couple hours from here. Too far to come back for a consult on a different day, anyway. I’ve made a special trip.” She smiled, her sudden change in expression unexpected, and a little off-putting. In fact, her smile didn’t change her eyes.

“Is that so?” I glanced around. The stranger wasn’t comfortable here. Why?

“That’s no problem,” Bess interjected. She usually only scheduled me one big job per day. Sometimes two if we had the clients to warrant it, but rarely. There were really only so many people in Sweetwater who wanted their hair dyed in this style on a regular basis.

I took a breath and forced my shoulders to relax. I probably looked as uncomfortable as the stranger did. Maybe I actually needed to get my name out more. For Bess’s sake. “Kate?”

She looked at me as I spoke her name.

“Maybe you can run a small article?” I pinched my thumb and forefinger together to indicate how small I meant. “I might need to try to attract clients from farther afield.”

She smiled widely. “That’s more like it. Between us, we can make you famous. Look at me. I’m ready for my close-up.” She pouted at herself in the mirror.

“What do you think of Sweetwater?” Kate directed her question at my other customer. “I’m Kate, by the way.”

“Oh.” The woman’s lips parted. “I’m Kel— Helen.” She held out her hand for Kate to shake. “I’m Helen.”

“Well, Kel-Helen, if that’s your real name…” Kate’s lips twisted in amusement, and she wagged her eyebrows.

I shot her a glance.

Kate gave me a look. “It’s nice to meet you, Helen. What do you think of our town so far? We’re in the running for thePrettiest Towncontest.”

Helen laughed uneasily. “How nice.”

“Have you got such attractive men where you’re from?” Kate slid a glance toward the front window, where the salon looked out over Main.

“Excuse me?” Helen’s eyes widened, and Kate mirrored her expression, although Kate went for false innocence.

I crossed my arms. What was Kate playing at?

Kate continued. “Surely you haven’t missed today’s plethora of handsome guys in suits? It’s like they’re an art installation.”

Helen forced another laugh. “Oh, I only came to see Meira. After what I’ve heard, I knew I needed to see her for myself. I should liven this up, right?” She lifted a lock of her mousey brown hair and dropped it once more.

I wouldn’t comment. I never did. It wasn’t my place to comment on a client’s current hairstyle, only to help them find what they wanted and move forward toward their vision.

I finished smoothing Kate’s hair—with Helen looking on. Helen seemed to take in every change in the color. I purposely lifted the brush higher, allowing the sunlight to gleam on the hair. She clearly enjoyed her vantage point.

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