Taken by You (Taken by You Book One) (14 page)

“
What is it?” I asked.

“
A gala. It’s important for my social circle. Well, I don’t really care about it or the snobs going to it, but it puts on a good image, you know?” he asked.

“
Kind of like when I had to go to the retirement party for my mom’s boss when I was thirteen. Nobody liked him, but we went anyway to put on appearances,” I said.

“
Just like that,” he said, smiling, before he kissed my forehead.

“
Are you patronizing me?” I asked with a smile.

“
Just a little,” he replied, winking.

Blake and I stayed in bed for another twenty minutes just talking about pointless and random things before he said he needed to get ready for work and I needed to get ready for my day, as they were picking me up when he left.

Naked in bed, we got out and I lost the comfort of the warm covers and had to run to the shower with him, where the warm, steamy water splashed across our bodies. We couldn’t help but kiss a little as our hands wandered. Being around him was so effortless that sometimes I forgot who I was with. I had never been this comfortable with a man before, and I thought it showed—at least when I was with him. I was pretty much the same old me the rest of the time when he wasn’t there. It was a shame our lust for one another was a secret.

Blake walked me to the front door yet again, where Gustav was waiting with a smile. He kissed me, his left hand stuck to my hip like it always was when we kissed goodbye. I didn’t know when I’d see him again; I never knew when I’d see him again, as our meetings seemed to be fairly random and sporadic. He called me when he needed me and I called him when I needed something, which I really hadn’t so far, aside from some groceries. I did have an upcoming rent payment I should talk to him about soon. He did say he’d pay for anything, even if I felt a little cheap asking.

“
Goodbye,” I said, turning around and walking towards Gustav.

“
Goodbye. Send me pictures later,” he said, though I didn’t think he was talking about my new outfits.

I got into the car, Gustav shut the door behind me, and I was soon whisked away somewhere I had never been before—the trendy area of the city. I hoped I didn’t come out of this in a zebra print skirt and five-inch heels.

I must have looked like a fish out of water when I walked into the salon because they looked at me like hungry lionesses stalking an injured baby impala. There was a strong smell of lavender in the air and rows of chairs behind the front desk. There were a few other people getting their haircuts, laughing and chatting with their hairdressers while sipping on mimosas and nibbling on snacks. I usually just went to the ten-dollar place down the street to get my hair cut, so this was all
very
foreign to me.

“
Hello, may we help you?” the younger woman behind the counter asked as she scanned me up and down.

“
I believe I have an appointment. I hope I’m not too early,” I said.

“
Name?” she asked, with a snotty tone reminiscent of the girls in high school who used to pick on me.

“
Penelope Wells,” I said.

She perked up, the other two people with her too, as the sheer sound of my name sent them into a tizzy. Blake must’ve name-dropped himself, because there was no other reason for these bitches to act like this.

“
Ms. Wells, thank you so much for coming. You aren’t early at all, in fact, we have your station ready and waiting for you just like you requested,” the girl said.

Just like I requested?

“
Please, if you’d follow me, I’ll escort you there,” the girl said, now sporting a friendly smile.

I followed her near the back of the room where I saw two carts around the chair I’d be sitting in to be styled. One of them had croissants, strawberries, melon, and some Danishes. The other had iced water, a mimosa, and what looked like coffee. There was a man with choppy hair and an oversized white sweater with a tray of tools next to him who greeted me. I shook his hand politely and sat down in the chair before the girl who escorted me scurried away like the pest she was.

“
Good morning. My name is Antoine and I’ll be your stylist today. I hear that we’re doing a full makeover, is this right?” Antoine asked.

“
I think so. I’m not really sure. What does that entail, exactly?” I asked, as he ran his fingers through my hair.

“
You will have a haircut, style, makeup, nails, eyebrows, and waxing,” he said.

“
Isn’t the waxing eyebrows?” I asked curiously.

“
No honey, the
other
waxing,” he said, as he laughed.

I perked up a little as my eyes opened wide. I’d never had that done before, and as I thought about my hair being ripped out of my body, I started to quickly remember why.

My hair, which was neatly styled by my standards, was now all over the place, as Antoine couldn’t stop playing with it. He put a cape around me, a hot pink one, and grabbed a razor from his stash of goodies.

“
What’s that for?” I asked nervously.

“
Honey, you have a mane going on. We need to thin this down if we’re ever going to get anywhere. Just relax, I promise it will all look fabulous,” he said, spinning me around so I couldn’t see myself in the mirror.

Even though I trusted him and knew he’d make me look good, I still couldn’t help but be nervous for what I’d walk out of here with. I had just this morning learned about my excursion today, and I was damned glad I asked Blake ahead of time. I couldn’t imagine what I’d be feeling if I had been dropped off here without so much as an explanation. I would’ve kicked Gustav’s ass.

Strands of hair fell down around me. Antoine wasn’t shy about rotating me and my head wherever he saw fit. He put down the razor, opting for his scissors, which cut through my strands of hair like a hot knife through butter. I didn’t bother with the breakfast treats, both because I was too nervous and didn’t want to get wads of hair all over them, so I mostly kept my eyes closed and fiddled with my fingers underneath the privacy of the hot pink cape.

Antoine took me to have my hair washed, even though I already did that this morning, after he finished dry cutting it. The shampoo girl massaged a senses-tickling peppermint shampoo into my scalp as Antoine stood nearby to make sure I didn’t try to look at myself in the mirror. He was like a dictator with that.

I was rinsed and my hair patted dry before he took me back over to the chair while covering my eyes from anything but the ground directly in front of me.

“
Now we’re going to style it, darling,” he said.

I could feel my hair a few inches shorter, the somewhat poufy mess I’d had before now slightly more streamlined and slick, which was a look I had seen countless times but was always too scared to ask for when I got my hair cut. I guess I’d never been a big fan of changing up my look. I couldn’t even remember two times when I’d done that all throughout my childhood. I was more comfortable with something I always knew, which I guess was a far cry from what I was doing now—both in this salon and in my life. I was now doing things very differently, things that took me outside my comfort zone, and I couldn’t say that they quite terrified me any longer. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t accepted Blake’s initial invitation out or back to his apartment. Things would be a lot different.

Antoine put a plethora of products into my hair as I sat back and kept my eyes mostly closed. He blow-dried it straight before doing some more to it and even bringing out a flat iron, which I thought was overkill. After about twenty minutes of styling he put down his products, stood back, crossed his arms, and looked at me with a small smile.

“
Done,” he said.

I didn’t say anything but flashed a little smile, and only for the sole reason that I wanted to get out of the seat. Antoine spun me around, and as my brain caught up to the image of myself in the mirror, I was in shock.

I actually looked…nice. My hair was straight, cut at the shoulders, and my mane wasn’t a mane any longer. I didn’t have split ends or an afro that would get so frizzy, especially in the summer, that it would be attracted to the static on balloons. I didn’t know that I could manage it in this exact way, since Antoine was an expert and I really didn’t want to spend twenty minutes on my hair every day, but it was something to try for Blake. He was, after all, the reason I was here.

“
What do you think?” Antoine asked.

“
I love it. I think it looks really nice,” I said.

“
A great masterpiece from what you came in like. I feel as if I just brought out your inner beauty and helped polish the diamond in the rough you truly are. I mean, look at those cheekbones, girl! You should be on a runway,” Antoine said.

“
I wouldn’t go
that
far,” I said, smiling.

“
Well, Jeanette will be taking you for waxing, now. Then you’ll have makeup and nails at the same time,” Antoine said.

“
Sounds good,” I said, as I played along even though I wished I could go home and get in my sweats.

A few minutes later Jeanette, a shorter Asian woman wearing all black, came and took me down a narrow hallway and into a dim room with rainforest music playing. There was a distinct sandalwood smell, though not overpowering. A long padded table lay in the middle of the room with clean white linens on top.

“
I hope you have had a wonderful time so far,” Jeanette said, in a soft, calming voice. “I am going to start with your eyebrows, so if you’d please lie back on the table, it would be much appreciated.”

She definitely didn’t have the exuberance that Antoine displayed, and I thought I liked that. She made me feel calm and at peace as the velvety words floated off her tongue and extinguished my anxiety. Either that, or the sandalwood and cricket sounds were doing a number on me.

I’d had my eyebrows done once for my cousin’s wedding a few years ago. I was a bridesmaid and she took us to a place like this, though it wasn’t nearly as nice and fancy. They did our brows and even had trouble getting the paper strip off her face, which left a huge red mark she wasn’t too happy about, especially when she got the pictures back.

Jeanette used a Popsicle stick to spread a little bit of warm wax onto my brow. I kept my eyes closed, though I could feel her hovering over me. She placed a cloth strip over the wax, rubbed it in well, and then, without warning, ripped it off. I flinched, gripping my hands together into fists, as she kept spreading the wax and ripping it off. If I had this much of an issue up there, how in the hell was I going to get through down there? Maybe I should call that bit off. I’d like to keep
my
bits, after all.

“
Okay, I’m done with your brows. Next I’ll be moving to your bikini line. Would you like a Brazilian or full wax?” she asked.

“
What do you suggest?” I asked, panicked.

“
Most of my clients these days do the full wax. It’s our most popular,” she said.

“
I was actually thinking of not doing it altogether. It’s a little nerve-wracking,” I said.

“
Don’t be scared. I’ve done this thousands of times and know how to relieve any pain or discomfort. I promise it’s a great experience and you won’t regret it. You won’t have to shave for a while, either, which is nice,” she said.

I did hate shaving every bit of hair I had to shave as a woman. It was one of the great banes of my existence, and I guess I was focused more on the prospective pain of the waxing than the benefits that came with it. Maybe I should just give it a go. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

“
Okay, I’ll do the full, I guess,” I said.

“
Excellent. I’m going to get the wax ready, so if you would, please take off your pants and panties and we’ll get started,” she said, turning around and going back to her station with all of her supplies.

I rolled upwards as all of the blood rushed to my head, before hopping off the table and taking my pants off. I felt a little strange, like I was trying for her not to see me, even though she was about to see all of me. I got undressed, got back on the table, and with my legs closed, lay there while she tinkered around with her tools.