Page 60 of Live a Little!

Her chin lifted. She loved him, but she wasn’t about to let him push her around. “We volunteers can do what we want on our owntime.”

“Humorme.”

She thought about it for a moment while she dragged on clothes. “Why?”

“Assume I’mjealous.”

Then he kissed her gaping lips and hustled her out into the predawn blackness. She knew he wouldn’t let her talk in case the KGB were hiding behind the garbage cans, so she had time on the short walk to ponder his last statement. He’d said it in a half-joking kind of way, but what if he really wasjealous?

Just because nothing like that had ever happened in her whole life didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Didit?

“IS SHE FROM MOSCOW, too?”Michael whispered in despair when Cynthia ushered Agnes into the salon Saturdaymorning.

She nodded conspiratorially. “Yes, she is. But don’t mention it. She’s very sensitive. Especially about her appearance. She’s going to ask for something boring and mousy, and if you’re any kind of a patriot, you won’t listen to her. She’s had a long stintundercover.”

“You mean she wasa—”

She held a finger to her lips in warning. “Shh. It’s classified. All I can tell you is that for her next assignment she has to seduce a top Britishdiplomat.”

“Honey, I’m not a miracleworker.”

“Yes, Michael.” She smiled secretly as she recalled how her new look had changed her life. “Youare.”

He heaved a sigh and then led Agnes to his station. He began fluffing gray hair through his fingers, an expression of helpless resignation on hisface.

“Perhaps just a trim.” Agnes piped up in her timid way, her doe eyes darting nervously to her cloud of gray hair being pouffed this way andthat.

But neither Michael nor Cynthia were listening. Cyn watched, holding her breath, as the expression on Michael’s face changed from hopeless to excited. “The hair is wonderful. I’m seeing blond. I’m seeing an older CameronDiaz.”

“Youare?”

He didn’t answer, just narrowed his eyes and shifted and twisted the hair while he watched it in themirror.

Agnes seemed too petrified tospeak.

“We’ll keep most of the length.” He patted Agnes’s shoulder reassuringly, then gestured to the shampoo girl. “But trust me, when I’m done you won’t recognizeyourself.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Agnes moaned, and followed meekly behind the girl with electric bluehair.

“And for you,madame?” Michael ushered Cynthia into thechair.

“I really do just need atrim.”

“How’s the colorworking?”

“I loveit.”

“It’s too tame for you. How about we add just a touch ofplatinum?”

“Maybe next time. Mostly I want you to concentrate on Agnestoday.”

He shot her a slightly panicked look. “Are there many more ofyou?”

She smiled at him reassuringly. “No. This should beit.”

SHE’D EXPECTEDTO SEE an improvement in Agnes’s appearance, but she was flabbergasted when, at the end of three hours, she returned for her friend. “Your hair, it’sbeautiful.”

Agnes had all the wonder of Cinderella after the fairy godmother had waved her magic wand. She couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that. Her hair, now a soft gold, feathered around her face, and the makeup artist had done wonders, bringing out the blue in her eyes, putting some color in her cheeks and adding lipstick to hermouth.

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