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Summer

Blowout

Claire Cook

TO MY READERS

Contents

1

LIPSTICK IS MY DRUG OF CHOICE. I GRABBED A TUBE…

1

2

THE FUNNY THING ABOUT WAITING IS THAT YOU

wait

and…

8

3

A GOOD MAKEUP ARTIST NEVER PANICS,

BUT I WAS close.

14

4

I WAS JUST FINISHING UP ESTHER WILLIAMS.

HER name was…

21

5

THE TEARS I WAS FIGHTING DRIED RIGHT UP

AS soon…

31

6

THE RING OF THE PHONE WOKE ME UP FROM A…

38

7

“CALL SOCIAL SERVICES,” MY MOTHER SAID.

“WAIT, I’ll get you…

46

8

“WHAT IS THAT?” SEAN RYAN ASKED.

54

9

“HANDSOME HUNKA BURNING MAN, THAT

BROTHER of yours,” Esther Williams…

62

10

A FEW MINUTES BEFORE SEVEN, AFTER THE

PRODUCER had trotted…

70

11

“A DATE?” MARIO SAID. “AT ANDREW’S WEDDING?” 78

12

TULIA BROUGHT HER KIDS TO THE MEETING EARLY, and settled…

88

13

ONCE MY FATHER MADE THE DECISION, THERE

WAS no stopping…

96

14

I RIFLED THROUGH MY LIPSTICK DRAWER, LOOKING for something strong…

103

15

AS SOON AS SEAN RYAN ASKED ME ABOUT

GIVING

Precious…

110

16

WE DIDN’T KNOW OF ANY DOG-FRIENDLY

RESTAURANTS in Rhode Island…

117

17

“HERE,” I SAID. “PUT THESE LATEX GLOVES ON.” 125

18

“I SAW THE LIGHT ON DOWN HERE AND

THOUGHT

IT…

132

19

HAVING SEX WITH MY EX-HUSBAND TURNED OUT

TO be a…

140

20

AFTER I HUNG UP WITH LIZZIE, I CHECKED MY

VOICE…

148

21

THE SALONS WERE USUALLY CLOSED ON

MONDAYS, but since we…

156

22

IT WAS GREAT TO HAVE A FOCUS. I’D BEEN

WORKING…

166

23

CANNOLI AND I DECIDED TO DRIVE TO LOGAN

AIRPORT and…

174

24

IF I COULD HAVE WALKED TO ATLANTA, I WOULD have.

181

25

SEAN RYAN HAD A BUSINESS DINNER THAT

NIGHT,

or

at…

188

26

“GEEZ, LOUISE,” I SAID. “CAN’T I GO ANYWHERE?” 196

27

“HE ATE THE RING?” SEAN RYAN ASKED.

205

28

I TURNED AWAY FROM THE CAR WITHOUT

LOOKING

back

and…

215

29

“A DRINK, AMORE MIO?” LUCKY LARRY

SHAUGHNESSY, our father…

222

30

“IT’S GOOD,” I SAID. “BUT IT’S NOT QUITE

THE SAME…

230

31

I HAD TO STAND ON MY TIPTOES TO TAKE DOWN… 239

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Other Books by Claire Cook

Credits

Cover

Copyright

• 1 •

LIPSTICK IS MY DRUG OF CHOICE. I GRABBED A TUBE

of Nars Catfight, a rich, semi-matte nude mauve, on my way out of the salon. Easy access to beauty products is one of the perks of the business.

There were lots of cars in the parking lot, but I saw him almost as soon as I pushed the door open. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, leaning back with his eyes closed. I was surprised I couldn’t hear that big fat snore of his all the way from here.

I was across the parking lot before I knew it. I had a large chocolate brown shoulder bag with me, and I swung it sideways to gain some momentum. Then I picked up speed and hurled it at the windshield as hard as I could.

My ex-husband jumped like he’d been shot and crashed his head into the window beside him. In that instant I understood every wronged woman who had ever run over her husband. Or cut off his penis. I could have killed him. Easily. And then gone back for seconds.

Craig was looking at me with real fear in his eyes. I liked it.

He looked down at the ignition, maybe calculating his chances for escape. He reached for the button and lowered the window about two inches. “What the hell was that?” he asked through the crack.

“What the hell was
that
? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Sophia’s car’s in the shop,” he actually said. “She needed a ride.”

2

C L A I R E C O O K

If there was a gene for getting it, my former husband had clearly been born without it. “You’re pond scum,” I said. “No, you’re lower than pond scum. If there’s anything lower than pond scum, you’re it.” I stretched forward and started picking up the contents of my shoulder bag, which were scattered all over the hood of Craig’s stupid Lexus. He didn’t even own it. It was leased. I hoped he got completely screwed when it was time to pay for the scratches.

My Nars Catfight, which had somehow ended up on the hood, too, twinkled up at me. I reached for it and covered my lips in slow, soothing strokes. A round hairbrush rolled to the pavement. I bent down and picked it up, then stood and pointed the sharp end at him. “Get off my father’s property.

Now.”

Craig shook his head, like I was the one with the problem.

“Bella, it’s Sophia’s father’s property, too.”

“Great,” I said. “Let me go find him for you. Then he can be the one to kill you.”

That did it. Even before he’d left one of my father’s daughters for another one of his daughters, my father hadn’t been too crazy about Craig, and he knew it. He started up the car.

“Just tell Sophia I’m waiting down the street for her, okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’m all over it.”

Up until then, he’d been looking over my head or off to the side of my face. Now he looked me right in the eyes, just for a second. Despite myself, I felt a little jolt of something, possibly insanity. Embarrassing as it would be to admit it, I had this sudden crazy urge to keep him from driving away.

I rested one hand on the hood of the car. Craig flinched.

“How’re the kids?” I asked.

He put the car into drive. “They’re not your kids, Bella,” he said. “Forget about them.”

Summer Blowout

3

I MADE IT TO MY FIRST GIG
in record time, possibly propelled by the smoke coming out of my ears. Then I waited.

And waited.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I fumbled in my makeup kit so I could sneak another quick fix. After some consideration, I decided Revlon Super Lustrous in Pink Afterglow was a good choice for a recently divorced brunette with green eyes and ivory skin who’d just attacked her ex-husband’s car and had lips that were a lot dryer than they used to be.

The housekeeper came in again. “He’s on the telephone right now,” she said.

I rolled down my lipstick fast. I popped the top back on and tossed it into my makeup kit.

“Thanks,” I said. I tried to be discreet, but I couldn’t resist running my tongue along my lower lip, savoring the rush as the emollients kicked in. The thing about lipstick is that, un-like the rest of life, it never lets you down. At least for the first five minutes. And even when it wears off, there’s still the never-ending quest for a better, longer-lasting shade to keep you going.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

I knew it wouldn’t be polite to say,
Yeah, my client
, so I just shook my head. When the housekeeper turned to walk away, I could see that the seam in her panty hose was crooked beneath her tight khaki skirt. A black skirt might have been more forgiving, but with khaki it really ruined the whole effect. Who even wore panty hose anymore, and the extra points she should have gained for the effort were more than canceled out by the appearance of a crooked crack. Or a possible buttocks 4

C L A I R E C O O K

imbalance. Apparently she didn’t have any friends working in the house. A good friend tells you when your crack looks crooked.

I looked at my watch again. If the governor-running-for-senator actually showed his face during the next five minutes or so, I’d just about make it to my next job. No wonder they’d pawned him off on me. Sophia, who was his regular makeup artist, was also the regular makeup artist for the senator running for reelection against him. Since they were having a pre-season televised brunch debate at Faneuil Hall at eleven, they both needed makeup at the same time. I would have picked the other guy, too.