Rock Bottom Girl: A Small Town Romantic Comedy by Lucy Score

Rock Bottom Girl: A Small Town Romantic Comedy by Lucy Score

Author:Lucy Score [Score, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: That's What She Said Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2019-03-08T05:00:00+00:00


There were aisles and aisles of makeup, skin care products, hair tools. Artful displays of charcoal face masks and fake lashes caught my eye.

I was officially in over my head. At their mercy.

Ruby stopped at the entrance to the in-house salon and faced me. “Do you trust us?” she asked.

I looked around the circle. No one looked like they were choking on laughter or trying to cover up nefarious intent.

“Yeah. I guess so,” I said finally.

“Good,” Angela said. “Because we’ve picked a haircut for you.”

“Lemme see.” Oh, God. Was it a pixie cut? I didn’t think I had the bone structure or the hair product to pull one of those off.

Sophie S. crossed her arms. “We want you to trust us with your hair.”

I swallowed hard. It was just hair. It would grow back. Unless they used some kind of next-generation Nair that ate through my scalp. Oh my God!

My team wanted to know that I trusted them. Hair grew back.

“Okay,” I decided. “I trust you.”

They went from serious negotiators to giddy teenage girls in a heartbeat, clapping and squealing.

“Coach, this is Wilma. Wilma, this is our coach. We want you to do this to her,” Natalee said, holding up her phone to the six-foot-tall South American beauty sporting purple eye shadow and one skinny silver braid in a sea of thick, highlighted curls.

Wilma studied the screen, then me, and then the screen again. Her eyes narrowed.

“This is doable,” she decided.

She looked like she could be an authority on things like not ruining a person’s psyche with a bad haircut, so I decided to just go with it. “Let’s get this over with,” I sighed.

Wilma whirled the cape around me and pushed me into a chair.

“We’re going to get started on your makeup look,” Phoebe announced, and the girls dispersed.

“Oh, God. This has the potential to go horribly wrong, doesn’t it?” I asked Wilma.

“Darling, you will leave here better than you arrived. Now, how do you feel about defuzzing these caterpillars?” she asked, running a pink-tipped fingernail over my eyebrows.



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