Page 18 of Tis The Season for Secrets
“There’s someone we want you to meet. A Mr Duncan. His real-estate portfolio is impressive, and I want him on our books.”
“Dad, does it ever disgust you to pimp out your daughter to the highest bidder?” Juliet asked, opening the door for him. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Not that it mattered; he was sure to be some leech trying to please her father.
Her dad let out a bark of a laughter. “That wit! One of the many traits we share.”
Juliet’s skin crawled at the thought of sharing anything with him.
He put his thick-knuckled hand on the door before she could close it. Still strong for a man in his early fifties. “Is it a sin to want my daughter to have a good life? If we both benefit from tonight, then I see no harm done.” He headed towards the stairs, not waiting for her answer. “See you tonight, chickpea.”
He only called her “chickpea” when he wanted to pretend they had a normal father-daughter relationship. Juliet slammed the door, then opened it and did it again. It helped relieve some of the anger, but not all. She’d have done it once more, but the door was rather old, and she didn’t want to break the frame.
“I should’ve just gone to some abandoned island for the holidays and left my phone behind.”
“He still would have tracked you down. Probably would’ve hired one of my brothers to do it too,” Margot pointed out, handing her the coffee her father had abandoned.I need something much stronger. “At least the dresses are pretty, though. I think Gillian actually wants you to look nice this year.” She held the second dress from the suit bag against herself: a silver midi with crystal-beaded straps. With her icy hair, it made her look like a snow queen.
Juliet smiled into her coffee, knowing exactly what would make the night more bearable.
Margot grimaced. “I don’t like it when you get that look in your eye.”
“Well, I’ve got two dresses, and it’d be a shame for one to go to waste… and having back-up might disrupt whatever sordid plans my father has in store.”
“You’re supposed to be making up for last year’s scandal, not scheming for another,” Margot accused her, but Juliet could see the twinkle in her eye as she held the silver silk against her body.
“Like you said earlier – technically, you’re already invited. I don’t want to go alone, and you can keep me in check.” Juliet grinned. “C’mon, it’s not like your aunt wouldn’t love to see you, or she wouldn’t have checked in earlier.”
Margot hesitated, chewing her lip. Juliet resorted to begging.
“Please! Frost is trying to marry me off again to this Duncan guy for the sake of a deal, but if I’ve got a stunning friend with me, he’ll be too distracted. You said you wanted to find some new clients, and this is the perfect opportunity!” She gave her the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could.
Margot wavered. “It is kind of a pity to let this dress go to waste…”
“It was made for you,” Juliet agreed. The slinky outfit complemented Margot’s golden skin perfectly.
“Okay, I’m in.”
Juliet threw her arms around her. “I’ll call the salon! Leave it all to me.” Buzzing with excitement over her plan, she grabbed her phone to find the number for the exclusive hair salon, Madame.
“Madame.” The receptionist spoke with a thick British accent.
“Hello! It’s Juliet Frost,” Juliet said brightly.
“Ms Frost, how are you? Mr Frost called ahead already; you’re scheduled for four o’clock.”
“That’s wonderful– only, I’ve got a small problem,” she admitted, copying her stepmother’s half-apologetic, half-whiny tone whenever she wanted something.
“There’s never a problem at Madame, especially for a Frost! What can I help you with?” the receptionist begged, eager to please. Juliet’s stepmother had helped Madame Brigit gain legal ownership of the hair salon when her ex-husband had tried to divorce her and take it from her. Mrs Frost’s methods, though successful, hadn’t been altogether ethical.
“My father, Mr. Frost…” Juliet knew she was milking it, but she needed all the luck she could get. Everywhere else would be fully booked. “He was meant to make the appointment for two, myself and a Ms Roth, but silly Dad only made the appointment for one.” She cringed at herself.
“I’m sorry, Ms Frost, but with tonight’s event we’re already fully booked.” The receptionist sounded gutted not to be able to help, and Juliet used that to her advantage.
She let out a long, audible sigh. “I understand completely, and I’d hate to put you under any pressure. I’ll have to go to Claudia’s instead—”
“That won’t be necessary! We can accommodate you!” the receptionist said quickly. “Just a moment, please.”
Juliet heard her fingers flying over the keyboard. She felt awful for causing the woman such panic when she’d never intended to cancel, but this was an emergency.
“We’ve got a free seat at ten past four. Will your guest’s treatments be charged to Mrs Frost’s account also?” the woman asked, making Juliet’s day even better.
