Run, Rose, Run by James Patterson

Run, Rose, Run by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2022-03-07T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter

47

Okay, you sit down right here,” Ruthanna said, gently pushing AnnieLee toward a poolside chair. “And don’t be nervous: Poppy’s a brilliant hairstylist.”

AnnieLee, who’d played the last eight nights in clubs all around Nashville, was more than happy to follow any orders involving the word sit. She felt as though Poppy could shave her head bald and she’d be too tired to even care.

Poppy, whose wide face and high cheekbones made her look like a young Debbie Harry, ran her fingers through AnnieLee’s long hair, which was still wet from the shower.

“Virgin?” Poppy asked.

AnnieLee stared at her in shock. “Excuse me?”

Ruthanna burst into laughter, but AnnieLee couldn’t imagine what was so funny. “What? What does she mean?”

“She meant has your hair ever been colored,” Ruthanna said. “Virgin hair is unprocessed.”

AnnieLee could’ve died right then and there. “Oh,” she said. “I thought—”

Poppy gently brushed one of AnnieLee’s dark waves away from her cheek. “It was pretty obvious what you thought, love,” she said.

“I’ve used a box dye once or twice,” AnnieLee said stiffly, trying to regain some of her dignity. She’d never had a professional haircut, though, and the mani-pedi Ruthanna had treated her to yesterday was her first.

“Well, the color is gorgeous,” the stylist said. “I won’t mess with it.”

As Poppy began combing, misting, and snipping strands of her hair with the utmost care and tenderness, AnnieLee started to relax again. She was toying with a new melody in her head, feeling almost as if she could drift into a nap, when Ruthanna’s phone dinged with a text.

“Okay. Eileen Jackson will be here any minute,” Ruthanna said.

“Who’s Eileen Jackson?” AnnieLee asked drowsily, and only to be polite.

“She’s the publicist you’re hiring,” Ruthanna said. “She’s flying in from Los Angeles.”

“Wait. What?” AnnieLee said, sitting up straight and suddenly wide-awake. “What for?”

Ruthanna took a sip of the smoothie Maya had pressed into her hand. “Jack says that now you’ve got a label, it’s time you got a publicist, and since he’s your manager, you’re supposed to listen to him.”

Poppy’s scissors clicked across AnnieLee’s back, and the bright, metallic sound reminded her of brushes tapping on a snare drum. “I thought he said I needed a lawyer,” AnnieLee said.

“And he was right. But the bigger you get, the more people you need,” Ruthanna said. “You’ll probably want to think about hiring an assistant at some point, too.” She flashed a sly grin at Maya. “Though I’d recommend one who doesn’t make you drink kale and bee pollen smoothies, or whatever the heck this is.”

“Don’t even pretend you don’t love them,” Maya said huffily.

“Is this a ‘fake it till you make it’ kind of thing?” AnnieLee asked. “Sure, I’m getting a name around Nashville, but I don’t even have an album yet.”

“If I had to bet, I’d say this was the calm before the storm. It’s best to get your team in place.”

AnnieLee’s hair was just beginning to fall into long, elegant layers when Eileen Jackson appeared on the pool deck in a chic white dress and towering, leopard-spotted heels.



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