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‘Not exactly.’ Libby dealt her a winning smile. ‘I’m after a favour.’
An extremely slim man wearing a pair of skin-tight, imitation crocodile-skin trousers minced across the salon towards her.
‘Elizabeth Westerling, please tell me that this favour isn’t happening on a Saturday.’
‘Hi, Mario.’ Libby followed and kissed him on both cheeks. ‘You’ll have fun, trust me.’
The man gave a dramatic groan and wiped a hand across his brow. ‘It’s Saturday, Libby. My busiest day. Everyone is clamouring for my attention—’
‘But I’m not everyone,’ Libby reminded him with a sunny smile that drew a wistful sigh from the salon owner.
‘How can I refuse you?’ He spread his hands in a gesture of surrender and then froze as he noticed Andreas for the first time. His hands dropped to his sides and he took a step backwards, his eyes raking appreciatively over the other man’s broad shoulders and powerful physique. ‘Introduce me to your friend, Libby. Immediately.’
Libby laughed. ‘Hands off.’
Mario’s gaze lingered regretfully on Andreas whose expression was comical.
‘Relax,’ Libby said, still laughing. ‘He’s a brilliant hairdresser. The best.’
Mario was pacing the floor of his salon. ‘Already I have your sister Katherine booked in and you know how fussy she is. Her hair has to look exactly so.’
‘You’ve been doing Katy’s hair for years,’ Libby pointed out patiently. ‘It won’t take you any time at all. Now, listen.’ She grabbed Adrienne’s hand and pulled her forward. ‘Mario, do you remember when I was thirteen?’
Mario shuddered at the recollection. ‘You were all pouts and teenage rebellion and your hair never behaved itself. Not like your sister’s.’
‘Absolutely.’ Libby smiled happily. ‘Well, I’ve got another ripe case of teenage rebellion for you here. She’s having trouble at school, Mario. I want you to transform her. She’s going to be cool and a trendsetter by the time she leaves your salon.’
Andreas sucked in a breath and started to protest but Libby placed a hand on his chest.
‘You promised not to interfere, remember? What do you say, Mario? Will you do it?’
Mario rolled his eyes dramatically and gave an exaggerated sigh but he stepped forward, loosening Adrienne’s hair from the childish band she wore. He pulled a face as he pushed and pulled, feeling the hair and placing it in different positions, his eyes narrowed as he experimented with different effects.
‘It is too heavy,’ he murmured. ‘It’s concealing her face. And she has a very beautiful face. It needs layers and texture.’
Libby beamed. ‘My point exactly.’
Mario pushed, twisted and lifted for a few minutes and then sighed and looked at his receptionist. ‘Rearrange my morning, Francesca. I’m going to be busy.’
He took Adrienne by the hand and led her through to the basins. ‘We’ll start with some serious conditioning.’
Libby followed and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Mario. You’re a star. We’ll go and grab a coffee and be back in an hour. And remember. She’s not quite thirteen. I don’t want lamb dressed as mutton.’
Mario looked affronted. ‘You are trying to tell me how to do my job?’ He clicked his fingers at one of the salon juniors who hurried across to shampoo Adrienne’s hair.
‘I’m not sure I should be leaving my innocent niece in the hands of that man,’ Andreas muttered darkly, following her across the road to a café.
Libby laughed. ‘Mario’s great. But you had a narrow escape.’ She shot him a wicked look. ‘He really, really fancied you.’
Andreas shook his head disapprovingly and sat down at one of the tables on the pavement.
The sun shone down on them and the air smelt of fresh baking and garlic as the many restaurants prepared for their lunchtime trade.
Libby ordered cappuccinos. ‘You look really tense. Come
on, what’s wrong? You’re not seriously worrying about Mario, are you? Because you shouldn’t. He really is the best hairdresser in London. People wait an average of four months to get an appointment with him.’
‘Unless your name is Libby,’ Andreas observed dryly. ‘No, it isn’t that. I’m worried that Adrienne will think that fitting in is all about the way you look,’ he confessed, reaching into his pocket for sunglasses.
