The Sapphire Pendant (34 page)

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Jessie hated the feeling of anticipation as Kenneth drove Syrah and her to go shopping. She wasn’t supposed to care about such frivolous things, but she did.
 

“Wait! You just passed the mall,” she said, watching White Crest Mall whiz by.

“We’re not going to the mall,” Kenneth said.

She turned to him weary. “Where are we going?”

“Gina’s Boutique.”

“I can’t afford there!”

“That’s all right. I can.”

She began to rub her temples. “I won’t be able to pay you back.”

“I don’t expect you to pay me back.” He captured her hand. “We’re friends, right?”
 

She suddenly felt uneasy. Something in his tone wasn’t quite genuine. “We’ll work out a payment plan.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

He turned into the parking lot of Gina’s Boutique, a little place off of Wagner Road a section known for pricey, quirky art stores and shops. Jessie glanced up at the window display of a reed thin mannequin draped in a chiffon gown.

Kenneth held open the door. “Come on, Jas.”
 

She looked down at her jeans and top. “I can’t go inside looking like this. Why didn’t you tell me we were going to a fancy place?”

“This is a boutique not a palace.”

“I’ll hold your hand,” Syrah said.

“We both will.” Kenneth grabbed her other hand and impatiently pulled her inside.

The owner came out to greet them. “Hello, Kenneth, I see you’ve brought us another one,” the woman said. She could have been mistaken for one of the mannequins with her perfect hair, expertly done makeup, and designer suit draping a gaunt, pale figure.

Jessie turned to him. “Another one? How often do you play fairy godfather?”

He only grinned. “Gina, I want you to take good care of her.”

“I will. Come with me.” She took Jessie’s elbow. “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Jessie stammered, looking at Kenneth. “Something pretty, I guess.”

“We’re going to a party,” Kenneth said, taking a seat as though he owned the place. “She needs a dress.”

“Ah, I see. A formal affair?”

He looked bored. “My usual.”

Jessie stared at him stunned. “Your usual?”

Again he flashed her one of his enigmatic grins, but said nothing. He pulled the owner to the side. Jessie watched him using elaborate hand gestures to describe the kind of dress he wanted as he talked to Gina.
 

“I’m not sure about this,” Jessie muttered as she watched him cup the air. She wasn’t quite sure to which body part he was referring.

Syrah squeezed her hand. “Uncle knows what he’s doing.”
 

Gina came up to her. “Wait in the dressing room. I know of the perfect dress for you.”

“Can I come in with you?” Syrah asked.

“Sure. We girls need to stick together.”

Jessie went into the dressing room and marveled at the plush silk brocade covered seats and the large mirror with soft overhead lights. She never would have imagined being in one of these places. How would she pay him back? She rested her head against the wall. No, that wasn’t the problem. She was excited; bursting at the seams with so much joy she was worried she might start giggling. She took a deep breath and straightened.
 

Gina came back with an assortment of dresses and hung them in the booth. Jessie tried on a translucent purple dress that floated around her.
 

“I feel naked,” Jessie complained, trying to lift the low cut neckline. “The front’s all wrong.” She felt like her breasts were being pushed into her chin.

“What’s wrong with the front?” Syrah asked confused.

“You have yet to worry about the problem, love. I think I should wear the green dress.”

Syrah stood in front of the other dresses, preventing her from getting to them. “No. Show this one to Uncle.”

Jessie stepped out of the dressing room and stood in front of Kenneth. He sat reading a magazine and drinking coffee. After waiting a few moments, she stomped her foot to get his attention. “Well?”

“Patience is the next thing we’ll work on,” he muttered, casually closing the magazine.

His eyes trailed up the length of her dress, resting a little longer at her chest than she felt comfortable. His eyes revealed nothing.

Her excitement slowly crumbled. He wasn’t impressed. She had been foolish to believe a new dress would change how he felt about her. What did she think this was: a fairy tale? “Don’t you have anything to say?” she asked.

Kenneth tossed the magazine down and stood up. “Well, the world will be pleasantly surprised to know that you actually have a figure under all those baggy clothes. No, no don’t get mad I’m giving you a compliment. Turn around. Very nice.”

Jessie glanced down.
Nice?
 
Perhaps the dress was as ordinary as she was. “Thank you.” She went back to the dressing room and sat down discouraged.
 

“Didn’t Uncle like it?” Syrah asked.

“He thought it was nice.”

Syrah lightly touched the hem. “I think you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Jessie stared at herself in the mirror. All right, so she wasn’t going to knock him off his feet with her beauty—the night wasn’t about him. It was about her. He might not notice her, but that didn’t mean other men wouldn’t. She was tired of standing on the sideline too scared to play because she wasn’t pretty enough. She was a woman with a great figure and she deserved to show it off. She would get other clothes too, ignoring her sister’s criticisms or anyone else. She would wear what she liked, what made her feel good.

She didn’t need Kenneth as a fairy godfather. She could do the job herself. She smiled at Syrah. “Tell Gina I want to see her.”

An hour later she stood in front of Kenneth with her purchases. “I’m ready.”

“It’s about time.” He glanced at her bags stunned. “What is all that?”

“I put them on your account, but I’ll pay you back.”

His eyes fell to her new green cashmere blouse. “Yes, I know,” he said. “Let’s go.”

He took her to Kayla’s Salon next, a bright and airy place with slick black floors and a high ceiling. Each booth looked like a star’s vanity table. Kenneth introduced Jessie to the hairdresser, although no introductions were needed. The owner, Kayla, had tried to convince Jessie since high school to do something with her hair. Kayla was a lean young woman with dimpled rosy cheeks, a creamy complexion and an easy smile. She was considered a hair magician, although she was bald.

“Oh this is a momentous occasion!” Kayla gushed, grabbing Jessie’s shoulders and spinning her around in a circle. “You have put her in the right hands,” she said to Kenneth. “The girls and I will do wonders.”

“Do you have a magic wand near by?” Jessie asked.

Kayla laughed, a light fruity sound. “Isn’t she darling?” She pushed Jessie towards a chair. “You can go now, Kenneth,” she said, shooing him away. “She’s all mine now.”

Once Kenneth had gone, Kayla wrapped Jessie in a terry robe and handed her a plate full of fruit. “Just eat and relax, girl. I’ll take good care of you.”

Two of her assistants toyed and touched her hair. They muttered to each other in that foreign language called “hair fashion” about body, features, tone, and volume. Eventually, they looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

Jessie’s hair was washed and conditioned. As Kayla snipped away, she sighed with contentment. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

“To cut my hair?”

“No, to style it, to give it life,” she said with passionate conviction. “Hair is alive, you know. After this treatment I’m going to give you the right conditioners to feed your hair and even suggest certain foods to eat.”

“Okay.”

“What look are you going for?”

“Something different. Something completely unlike me.”

“So you’re willing to risk a little color?” Kayla said hopefully. “Say, honey brown highlights?”

“Whatever you want.”

“My favorite words.” She met Jessie’s eyes in the mirror, an impish grin on her lips. “So what’s going on with you and Mr. Perfect?”

She had been waiting for the question, but it still caught her by surprise. “Um…nothing really. He’s just doing me a favor.”

“I wish a man like that would do me a favor. Aren’t we the lucky ones?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Not one to kiss and tell, are you? That’s a good sign. That means it must be serious. The other women usually talk my head off. That’s all right, I was just curious.”

“Just how many women has he brought here?” Jessie asked unable to crush her curiosity.

“I’d say about twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five?”
 

“Yes, fabulous ladies. I enjoy them, everyone does. You’re different though.”

Right. She wasn’t as rich, or pretty or pedigreed. “I know.”
 

“You’re the youngest.”

“How old are they usually?”
 

“About sixty-five.”

“Sixty-five!”

“Don’t move your head like that,” Kayla said. “I almost cut off your ear!”
 

“He goes out with women who are sixty-five?”

Kayla laughed pleased with her little deception. “He gives some of the women living alone or at the nursing home a treat when they have their dances. Those are the only women he pays for. The young ones are on their own.”

“Oh.”

“You know here at the salon we like to gossip, but you can keep your Cinderella story to yourself.”

“It’s hardly that.”

Kayla wrapped Jessie’s hair in a cap. “Go to Ana. She’ll show you how to put on make up, then come back to me and I’ll finish the job.”

Ana was a Korean woman who had spiky black hair, two pierced eyebrows and a nose ring. She plucked Jessie’s brows and showed her how to accentuate her eyes and develop the fullness of her mouth. She then gave her a load of samples before sending Jessie back to Kayla.

“Oh, you look delicious!” Kayla fussed with Jessie’s hair and brushed and combed it. When she was through, she leaned back and clapped her hands in delight. “My best work yet.” She handed Jessie the mirror.

Jessie held up the mirror and gasped. “That’s not me.”

“Yes it is. You look wonderful.”

Her hair now framed her face, accentuating her striking cheekbones and her highlights added volume and body to the sleek style. She didn’t look pretty, but striking, exotic… mysterious. She never thought her plain features could look so daring. Actually, the woman staring back wasn’t plain at all.
 

Chapter 22

Jessie waited outside the salon, watching cars go by when Syrah and Kenneth appeared. She smiled at them and waved. Syrah frowned and Kenneth flashed a grin, but they both continued to walk past. Syrah was the first to halt. Kenneth stopped a step later. They slowly turned around like synchronized dancers and stared at her with wide eyes. Syrah ran up to her and threw her arms around her waist.
 

“You look wonderful!” she cried.

“Thank you.”

Kenneth gave her a quick overview. “It’s definitely an improvement.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why don’t we get some ice cream?” He turned and walked away.
 

Jessie glared at him.
An improvement?
 
She wished he hadn’t said anything. His vague compliments were irritating.

Syrah grabbed her hand. “Never mind him,” she said. “He’s been in a strange mood all day.”

At the ice cream shop, Syrah and Jessie decided to share a banana split. Kenneth ordered a vanilla shake. While Syrah and Jessie chatted, Kenneth remained silent and spent most of the time staring out the window.
 

He couldn’t look at her. She was even more tempting and dangerous to him than before. He hadn’t planned on that. He liked how her hair brushed against her cheeks, the rich purple on her lips and that blouse...

“So do you still want to sleep with me?” she asked.

He inhaled his shake too quickly and began to cough. He glanced at her with watery eyes. “Where’s Syrah?”

“At the arcade. Did you hear my question?”

“Yes.”

She rested her chin in her hand. “Well?”

He looked down at his glass. “I think I’d better get another one of these.”

Jessie watched him leave then scooped up the melted ice cream at the bottom of the dish. Okay, so she was a dandelion trying to be a rose. He could at least show some interest. He offered her more attention when she was her basic self.
 

“There should be a law against good looking women sitting by themselves,” a male voice said.

Jessie glanced up and studied the man. He was clean cut wearing khaki trousers and a green polo shirt. A heavy dose of mousse slicked down his brown hair.

He slid into the seat in front of her. “Could I buy you something?”
 

Oh god, he was flirting with her and he was actually sober
. “No, thank you.”

His eyes roamed her figure as if trying to find something else to compliment her on. “Nice bracelet. I like a girl with class.”