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“Does this have to do with the ‘Holy Chic’ woman?” Holt asks.
I conceal my surprise and tread carefully.
“What are you talking about?”
“Bree was going on, and on, and on about it. You know how much of a celebrity-watcher she is.”
I shake my head. “Teenagers.”
“Jagger’s daughter was so obsessed, he became curious. Until he brought it up, I was unaware you were the talk of the gossip rags.”
“Why did Jagger go through you when he could’ve asked me?”
“He wanted a straight answer,” Holt says.
“I’m offended.”
“I understand where he’s coming from,” he says.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Jagger sent me photos. Miss ‘Holy Chic’ is stunning. She’s also nothing like your usual type… If those photos are more than smoke and mirrors, I’d say, it’s about time, little brother.”
Chapter 29
Arianne
After a busy weekend filled with pampering and shopping, I make my way from the kitchen to the living room with a glass of red wine in hand after polishing off a delicious Italian meal.
My phone rings.
I rush to the coffee table, drop the glass, snatch it, and answer the video call as I plop myself on the couch.
“Phoebe!” Her smiling face appears on my screen.
“Ooohhhh! Your hair is amazing.”
“It’s not too blonde?” I ask, swirling a strand around my finger.
“No. It’s not like it’s platinum blonde or anything that dramatic. It’s a stunning shade. It brings out your brown eyes.”
“Thank you. I hesitated at first, but I’m thrilled with the result. Giuseppe said dark blonde highlights complement my complexion much more than the chunky blonde highlights I’ve been sporting since Silicon Valley.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t cancel. Giuseppe is one of the best stylists in LA. His waiting list is ridiculous. The man knows his stuff. Without him, I’d still be a mousy brunette instead of this,” she says, shaking her dark chocolate brown hair with a flattering bang. “It seems you’ve also scored in the wardrobe department. Andrea worked her magic.”
Phoebe has been extinguishing fires since she landed in Seattle on Friday morning. This is the first time we’ve had a chance to catch up. I’ve been updating her via a series of text messages, including photos.
“She’s amazing. I love everything I bought. I even got all new makeup. The spa day yesterday was heaven. I feel like a new woman. I’m happy I listened to you and I didn’t cancel.”
“Look at you!”
“I know, right?”
“You’ll look incredible at your party on Tuesday night.”
“Oh, that again.” I roll my eyes.
“Are you saying you don’t want to see me?”
