Page 12 of Love Lessons
“It’s not,” she says tightly. “Foryou. So long as you shoot the puck into the net, they’ll keep paying your salary. Even if you get arrested again. Even if your secret hobby is kicking puppies.”
“Hey! No puppies are kicked on my watch. I onlylooklike a mugshot hooligan. I’m seriously a nice guy. Ask anyone. Especially the ladies.”
My attempt at humor makes her snort. “I bet.”
I hold back a sigh. And I also hold back the invitation that pops into my head.Come upstairs with me, and I’ll show you just how nice I can be.
Like that’s happening.
There are a few more minutes of silent trimming before Vera reaches for a giant brush and begins to sweep away the snipped hair from my neck. “This is a haircut that management will be proud of,” she announces. “Come outside and I’ll take your picture so you can see it.”
“I do own a mirror,” I grumble, because she probably thinks I don’t. But then I get out of the chair like a good boy, grab the beers, and follow her outside.
The light is fading, and the bricks of Brooklyn all have a rosy twilight glow. “Quick, before we lose the light,” she says. “Sit on my stoop. It’s nicer than yours.” She points at her building, which has the wider staircase. “I’ll snap a shot, and you can send it to PR.”
It’s not the worst idea, honestly. As much as it pains me to do anyone’s bidding, it will help my case if they think I ran right out to toe the line. So I plunk down and look up at the phone she’s aiming in my direction.
“Not likethat,” she says immediately. “Sit up straight. Lift your chin. And do you really want those beers in the photo?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I move the bottles and sit back down again so Vera can give me a dozen tiny corrections as she takes a million photos. “Eyes over my shoulder. No—the other shoulder! Turn your nose a couple degrees to the left. Now smile. Arealsmile. You look like you want to punch someone.”
“What if I do? Use this one.” I lift my middle finger toward the camera, and she scowls.
“Come on. Work it, Crikey. Make love to the camera.”
I bust out laughing and that camera shutter goes off with a frenzy. “YES! Now we’ve got it.” Vera finally stops shooting. She’s wearing a triumphant smile as she climbs the steps. “What’s your number? I’ll text you the best one.”
“Don’t I get to pick?”
“No,” she says, plopping down beside me. “You’d send them a photo where you’re flipping off the camera.”
It’s possible she’s right.
“Here—look at this. Seriously, I’m a miracle worker.”
She hands me her phone, and I brace myself. I hope she didn’t give me a freaky haircut, and I hope I can find the patience to sound enthusiastic if she did.
But when I look at the photo, I’m kinda stunned. It’s a shorter haircut than I’ve had in a while. It’s tidy, but it’s sleek on the sides, and more generous on top. The beard trim is so good that I might keep it that way. And she’s caught me with a half-smile, like I’m just about to laugh. I look happier and more relaxed than I’ve felt in weeks.
In short, it’s a killer haircut, and I didn’t even have to go to the barber shop. “Christ, you’re good at this.”
The smile she gives me lights up her pretty face. “That is really nice of you to say. I put myself through college by cutting hair. It’s a handy skill.” She claps her hands together. “Now all we need is some makeup for you. I’ll get Charli to do your eyebrows and some concealer for that cut on your face. And maybe some contouring.”
“What?” I yelp. “No fucking way.”
Vera hollers with laughter. “Gotcha. Who’s a gullible boy? I wouldn’t even try, stud. But thanks for the giggle.”
“You’re welcome,” I grumble, texting her photo to my own phone, so I can send it to the damn PR department. “Want a beer?” I stand up and retrieve the bottles, then I dig out my key chain and make use of the opener I’ve got on there with the team logo on it.
“No, thank you,” Vera says primly. “I’m not a fan of beer.”
Strike… one million. “Sorry, I’m all out of pinot noir.” I pronounce it wrong just to sound like a punter. But like I told her before, I don’t have any interest in changing myself to make other people happy.
Except for this haircut. I can live with that. “What do I owe you for your trouble?”
“Nothing at all.” She taps her kissable lips and considers me. “I did that for fun. But you know what would bereallyfun?”
Try me, honey. “I can think ofseveralthings. But let’s hear yours.”
