Page 50 of The Princess and the Paparazzi
“I’ll have you know my shears cost fifteen hundred dollars, and I sterilize them after every customer,” he huffs. “I might not play a superhero like you, but I have higher standards than most barbers.”
“Okay,” I shrug. “Whatever. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I can totally see you as a colorful superhero sidekick. Ember could use someone like you to give her regular trims and tips.”
“Honestly?” Xander clutches his chest. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” He holds out his arms and says, “Bring it in,” and for some reason, I feel compelled to give him a hug. Resistance seems futile.
“So, uh …” Xander releases me from his bearhug and looks at his phone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I wasn’t joking about the shop not being open yet. I was just picking up a few things for the grooming van. Georgia probably won’t be here for at least another half hour, and I gotta run.”
“That’s okay, I can wait for her,” I shrug. “I’ve got stuff to read.” I reach into my bag and pull out the campaign module.
“What’s that you’re reading?” Xander asks. “A new script? Is the franchise coming back?”
I tuck Noah’s manuscript under my arm. “Sorry, top secret,” I say. “I am not at liberty to share.”
“I knew it!” Xander crows victoriously. Then he sighs. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t just leave you here alone with the keys. I have to get going. I told my partner, Mac, I would pick up some coffee for him before I head out for the day. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
“Seriously?” I sit up straight and give him the Ember eye. “I just got comfortable, and I really want to talk to Georgia.” I’m hoping she can think of some fun “regular folk” things for me to do today. Plus, I thought I might help her stage the pet costumes better.
“Seriously.” He puts a hand over his face.
“What if … I recommend you to Rafe Barzilay as his dog trainer?” I ask.
Xander freezes. “Rafe Barzilay has a dog?”
“Yes,” I nod, “and it’s very poorly behaved.”
“But I’m not really a trainer. I’m a groomer.” I can see how much admitting this pains him.
“But you’ve trained dogs?” I ask.
“Technically? Yes. I ran a dog-walking service in high school and did a lot of training with the dogs.” He nods, a little breathless.
“Trust me,” I smile imploringly. “I’ve already got the keys to the diner and Kenna’s place. If anything goes wrong, you know where to find me, and I’m insured out the wazoo.”
He still looks a trifle dubious. I hold up my phone.
“And I’ll call Rafe right now to make the rec.”
“Well, then, I suppose I could wait with you till Georgia gets in.”
kenna
“Your fairy pancakesand unicorn coffee are served,” I announce, bringing the silver tray to the coffee table.
I kind of hate interrupting Orly’s drama-in-progress. The plot involves a headless Barbie, a Batman figurine, and a stuffed dog and what appears to be some seriously high stakes.
“Yayyyy!”
She looks up from her toys, sees the food, and sweeps them out of the way. The Barbie head bounces when it hits the floor.
“I’m telling Abba you let me have coffee.” Orly smiles wickedly, reaching first for the mug.
“Special unicorn coffee,” I say, grinning. It’s just warm chocolate milk with a little whipped cream and crushed, fruity pebble dust.
Then she sees the pancakes, and her eyes light up. She picks up a pretend cell phone and proceeds to take a photo. “Cama eats first!” she says.
I laugh. “Who taught you that?”
“Savta taught her that!” A tall, graceful, middle-aged woman saunters into the room. “Right, Orly?”
