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“You got a hot shower, didn’t you.” she asked, pointing to the sink basin. “Let’s put some conditioner in that. “Where you off to this morning?”
“I can’t say, because it has to stay a secret. The paparazzi were out of control out front a little while ago,” I said, standing from the sink basin and walking to her chair. “I want you to know I do know how to do my own hair, I just don’t have anything to do it with.”
“What does that mean? You lost your luggage or something?” she asked, combing out my hair. “That looks and feels a lot better. You want it blown out or up?”
“Although I’m wearing heels, it’s still a casual day, so just blow it out,” I said, watching her face in the mirror. “Also, can you send some supplies up to the penthouse for me?”
“Anything you need. Leave me a list and I’ll send it up in about an hour.” Mylene turned on the blow dryer then turn it off again. “Did you need make up sent up as well?”
“Yes, I’ll need everything, I’ll ask the makeup girl to give you a list after she does my make up,” I said, watching as her facial expressions showed she was asking ‘why’ in her head. “Go ahead Mylene. Ask why before your head bursts.”
“Thank God, you have no idea where my imagination just took me. Did you lose your luggage? Did you have a fight and he threw your clothes out the window? Did you run away with him?” she asked in a rush. “I told you my imagination went places, and those are the simple ones.”
“Strewth crickey, girl,” I said, laughing. “I packed a bag, but got bored with all of it when I got here. I told the housekeeper to get rid of it, but when I went to shop for more, the paparazzi followed me.”
“That wasn’t one of my thoughts, but it must be real nice to just toss everything and start over,” Mylene said, not making eye contact in the mirror. “I have to rotate shirts with my roomies so I’m not wearing the same thing to work every week.”
“Believe me, Mylene, when I say I know what you’re talking about.” I reached back and touched her hand. “I need a private day with him, so could you maybe not tell anyone I was here getting fixed up?”
She stopped blowing my hair and spun my chair around to face her.
“If you knew I was the one that told them, then why did you ask for me today? Why didn’t you have me fired? I’m so sorry,” she pleaded.
“Mylene, it’s not a big deal. We needed our engagement out in the tabloids to settle down all this scandal for his family businesses.” I spun my chair back around to face the mirror. “I gave you, the nail techs, and the makeup girl the same info. I knew one of you would tell somebody and it would get out. I kinda set you up. Now let’s go I’m in a hurry.”
“I don’t know if I should say thank you, apologize, or burn your hair,” Mylene joked. “I am sorry though.”
I smiled at her in the mirror. She finished my hair while I answered a few text messages. According to my cell, I had fifteen minutes to get back up to the penthouse. I was looking forward to the day and not for the clothes, although that was going to be fun too. The make-up girl was different today, but she did a great job and we went over everything I needed sent up for later.
“I gotta run and have fun with my Valentine. Thanks for rushing me in.” I waved goodbye and sped out of the spa without thinking about telling Gunner.
“I had a feeling you would be in a hurry and forget me,” Gunner said, standing up from a chair he had obviously folded himself into.
“Bond, I knew you would be out here,” I lied. “Do you like my hair?”
“You can’t change the subject. Please don’t go out of the hotel without me.” Gunner put his arm around me and ushered me to the elevator. “And yeah, your hair looks good. I’m more of a brunette guy myself, but that color looks good on you.”
“You like brunettes, do you? I may have to find you a girl,” I teased him, “one who likes tough guys. What else do you like in a woman?”
Chapter 52
AUGUST
Gunner and Imogen returned to the penthouse just as I’d wrapped up my last call. I went over the details of where we were going for breakfast. Gunner didn’t need any instruction on maneuvering through the streets of Paris to lose anyone following. I could barely keep my eyes off of Imogen. I loved the casual look of the jeans, t-shirt, and heels. And there were those red stilettos again.
“You ready to eat the best breakfast you’ve ever had?” I asked both of them. “Gunner, you have to join us for it. I promise it’s the best.”
“Mr. Hawthorne, I’d be delighted. I assume it’s away from all the cameras?” he asked.
“Yes, it’ll take about twenty minutes car ride to get there. You both better grab jackets. It’s usually chillier there than in the city.” I picked up my coat and went to the open elevator.
We went out the front, better prepared for it this time, plus Gunner had called in more security to help. The limo ride had turned into a full-on debate over favorite musical artist, best genre of music, and best artist of all time, which began when Imogen asked Gunner to turn up the Taylor Swift song playing.
“You like Taylor Swift?” I asked, surprised for some reason. “I didn’t realize you listened to her in Australia.”
“Of course we do. She’s not my favorite or anything, but I like her music,” Imogen said singing along. “You know who my favorite is, but who’s yours again?”
“Yeah you told me Keith Urban is your favorite, and I have to say he is up there at the top for me too, but in country music, I like Garth Brooks the best.”
