Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Small waist, perfect boobs. Geez, I need to eat more. I’m too skinny, and no one ever seems to notice what little curves I have. I’ve always had this problem and hoped as I got older I’d fill out, but I guess I’m like my mom.
Sinking onto the couch, I pick up People magazine as Cindy chitchats with the dark-haired girl and, I guess, her assistant with purple hair.
I look down at my nails. Being around pretty girls doesn’t often bother me. After all, growing up with my mom has pretty much made me immune. But my period’s starting soon, and today, I notice everything. I should have taken some time to at least put on a little makeup. God, I didn’t even wear a bra.
“So… who’s this beauty?” The sexy guy who held the door for us is back smelling of smoke.
“Doug, this is my friend Charlize.” Cindy points at me and I almost sink farther back into the uncomfortable couch. This is absurd. I straighten. I’m not that girl.
“Actually, I’m her boss. Never mind.” I wave my hand.
His brown eyes land on me as he says to Dolly, “I’ll take her. You’re almost ready for Cindy, right?” He says all this not breaking his stare.
“Yep, Jenny?”
The purple-haired girl looks over. “Minute.” She seems to be changing the music on her phone. When we first came in, the radio was on. Now some French woman is singing.
“Can you get Cindy’s color on?”
She nods, and my eyes go back to Doug’s. He’s still staring as if I’m some sort of science project.
I cock my head at him, which makes him grin. “Let’s get you shampooed. I have a great idea about what I’m doing with you.” He hums the last part.
An hour and a half later, I stare at myself. Doug decided that I need layers. And since my hair is ridiculously thick, I allowed him to put some oil treatment on it.
“Holy shit.” I lean forward, running my hands through it. “I look like I should be in a Pantene commercial,” I say, flashing him pouty lips.
“I told you.” He smirks as he runs his hands through my long dark locks.
“I dye my hair to get this color. Fabulous.” He backs up to look at me in the mirror. “My work is done.”
As I stand and remove my smock, I smile at him and glance over at Cindy who is still in the chair, typing away on her phone.
Dolly is in the corner on the phone, pacing.
Reaching for my purse, I dig out a makeup bag. Might as well get fixed up while I wait considering I look a million times better.
“Listen to me…” Dolly spins to look at Cindy’s hair. “I don’t give two shits that David has returned. He was bound to one day,” she hisses into her phone as she looks at herself in the mirror at an empty station.
I drop the lipstick. It can’t be the same David. Bending down, I grab the tube.
“No, Edge. I don’t care,” she snips.
Holy shit. She is talking about my David. I take a breath and look in the mirror.
Doug is standing a foot away, head cocked and a knowing grin on his face as he studies me.
“What?” I narrow my eyes on him through the mirror and flip my hair, wishing he’d go away.
“You got a thing for bikers? The Disciples aren’t anything to play with, Beauty.” He leans against the wall, invading my space, so I have no choice but to look up at him.
“You don’t want to end up like my baby girl over there.” He nods at Dolly, and we both turn to look at her.
“No, you listen…” She huffs, looking up at the ceiling and wiping at her eyes. “Look, I can’t keep doing this. I’m at work. All you do is disappoint me.”
Doug pushes off the wall, shaking his head. “Fucking Edge. I don’t think he’ll ever get it right. This is what I meant. Be careful.”
“Who the fuck is the Poet?” Dolly looks over at us, completely catching both Doug and me staring.
“I’m getting off the phone. Don’t call back. I need to work.” She starts to walk over to Cindy. “Fuck you, Edge. I’m not calling David Poet. I don’t have to. Remember? I’m not part of that sick cult anymore. It sounds like a weird killer or something… Whatever. I have a client. I have to go.” She pockets the phone and turns to Cindy.
“Who’s Poet?” I whisper, grabbing at Doug before he can head to the front of the salon.
“Fuck if I know. They all have stupid names.” He rolls his eyes and smiles at a woman who is entering.
“Sorry, I’m in the middle of some personal stuff.” Dolly tries to smile although it looks more like her mouth has a tic. “Stay away from the bad boys, you two.” She grabs a blow dryer.