“Who?”
“Whoever is in charge of this town?”
Phyllis looked in the mirror at Ariel. “Don’t worry about the hearing on Monday. Brompton can afford what he’ll be charged.”
“I’m sure he can,” Ariel said softly as she backed away. “I’d better go tell David that … about this.” Tell him he’s gay, she thought, and she couldn’t help smiling.
“Let me do this,” Ariel said. “Please.”
David narrowed his eyes at her. “And what are you going to tell them? That I’ll be your wash girl?”
“Maybe you could help find matching accessories.”
“You keep on laughing and I’ll tell them you live in a trailer out on seventeen.”
“Next door to Britney?”
“With Brit. As her lover.”
Ariel laughed. “I had no idea you had a cruel streak in you.”
“That’s because you don’t know anything about me. I think I’ll go over to the hardware store and see if the men know about something other than chain saws.”
“I bet they’d love to hear you pontificate on saving the wetlands.”
David gave a reluctant smile. “Maybe I’ll wait on that. So what am I supposed to do to help you make these women into beauty queens?”
“Not beautiful, just to be the best they can be, remember?”
“Yeah, I wrote the flyer.”
“You really think I can do this?” Ariel whispered.
He smiled at her. “Yes, you can. No more doubts now.”
It wasn’t easy for him to stand behind Ariel as she gently knocked on the door of the house of the woman who owned the only dress shop on King’s Isle. The dress store was next door to the beauty shop, which was owned by her sister, and both shops didn’t open until 10:00 A.M. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.
When no one answered, Ariel stepped back. “Maybe they’re not up yet. Maybe we should come back later.”
David reached over her head and knocked on the door loud enough to wake the neighbors. Minutes later, a middle-aged woman wearing an old bathrobe opened the door and squinted against the daylight. “Yeah?” she said.
David started to speak, but then closed his mouth and gave Ariel a little shove forward. She didn’t have much experience talking to people she hadn’t known all her life. Or been introduced to properly.
“I’d like to talk to you about a business arrangement,” Ariel said cautiously.
“We can’t help you,” the woman said, and started to shut the door.
Ariel put her foot in the doorway, then looked at the woman. “I just redid Phyllis Vancurren?
??s face and hair. She looks her age now and elegant enough to find herself a husband off the island.”
The woman blinked at her a few times. “You’re either a magician or a liar.”
“No,” Ariel said, “I just have my clothes made in New York and I’ve had enough makeup sessions I could work at the Estée Lauder counter. We need money and I’d like to offer makeovers to the women of this town. Clothes, shoes, cosmetics, and hair. I’d get twenty percent of everything they buy.”
Behind her, David smiled—and was impressed.
“I’ll get in trouble for this, but come in.”