Crazy Hot Love (Dirty Dicks 2)

Curling my nose, I flick the ends of my hair. “Lets take these extensions out, and from there I just need you to make me not look like...me.”

A sly smile stretches across Charlotte’s face. “So you want something fresh, something Leni Barrick would never do.”

“Right.” I pause. “Well, within reason. Don’t shave my head or anything.”

“Got it.” She pins a section of hair on the top of my head and starts working. “No shaved head.”

“Bye bye, Leni Barrick. Hello, Lennon St. James.”

Her hands freeze, and she looks up. “Who’s Lennon St. James?”

“Me. Lennon Barrick-St. James. That’s my full name. Everyone who knows me knows me as Leni Barrick. So for now, I’m just going back to being Lennon St. James.”

“Oh, right. Okay. Well, I know all about Leni. How about you tell me all about Lennon?”

And right here is where our friendship starts. We spend the next three hours talking and laughing. I tell her the sordid tale of why I came to Heaven, and she listens with a patient ear, nodding and agreeing, offering her two cents every once in a while, and managing not to be too biased at all by what she’s already read in the rag mags. It doesn’t take long for me to fall head over heels in love with her. She’s the type of friend I’ve always wanted.

The type of friend I’ve never had.

After I told her all about me, she went on to tell me about her life. Charlotte had a rough childhood. After the death of her parents she was passed between family members before eventually becoming a ward of the state. She worked her ass off to get through college and open up this salon. She lives paycheck to paycheck, but she’s never been happier. I go on to tell her about the charity I started, Children Everywhere, and how it’s designed to help children who’ve gone through the same things she has. She seems almost more impressed by that than she was by the fact that I’m Leni Barrick.

We laugh and talk, and when she spins the chair so I can look at the new me, I’m convinced she’s a fairy godmother in disguise.

“So,” she says, barely containing her excitement. “What do you think? I know it’s not New York or Hollywood quality, but—”

“Stop it.” I cut her off because she certainly does not need to be putting herself down. Lips parted, I run my fingers through my hair, amazed at how silky it is. “I love it.”

“You do? Really?”

“Yes,” I breathe, in awe of what she’s done.

The extensions are gone, and she cut easily five inches off the length. My straight, boring hair is now tapered in a long stack that starts at the base of my neck and gets longer toward the front, dipping past my chin. It’s sleek, smooth, and nothing like I would’ve ever done before.

“What about the color? Is it too much? I tried to take you back to your natural shade. You were beautiful as a blonde, but now…” Admiring her work, Charlotte runs her fingers through my hair. “You’re even more stunning.”

I’ve been a platinum blonde since the day my mother got her hands on my hair—well, her stylist’s hands—but after seeing this, I’ll never go back. “It looks like caramel.”

Charlotte laughs. “It totally does. You’re the perfect shade of dirty blond.”

I shake my head from side to side, watching the mirror as my hair bounces around. “So? Do I look like Leni Barrick?”

“Well, I would still be able to pick you out of a crowd, but I don’t think anyone else would.”

“Considering you’ve been the only one to recognize me, I think I’ll be okay.”

Although over the years there have been a few random people, like Charlotte, who recognize me from time to time, most people don’t know who I am. My mom and dad are a totally different story, but me? I’m virtually a nobody.

Reaching in my purse, I grab my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Charlotte quickly waves me off. “No. You’re not paying me.”

“I most certainly am.” I pull out a couple of hundred-dollar bills, the equivalent of what I would pay back home, and Charlotte’s eyes nearly bug out of her head.

“Please,” she begs. “I don’t want to take your money. I swear I had more fun doing your hair than I’ve had in a long time. Just promise me that next time you need something done, you’ll come back.”

“I wouldn’t dare go anywhere else.”

With an exchange of phone numbers and a promise to get together soon for dinner, Charlotte walks me out to my car before heading back inside to lock up for the night.