Read Dazzled for Free Online Page B

their execution?
    A scarily blonde woman of about fifty was sitting at the reception desk, dressed in a navy blue uniform. If she hadn’t been so full of Botox, her eyebrows would have gone through the roof as she glanced up and saw me. She gathered her wits more quickly than I did.
    “How may I help you this morning, sir?”
    “Er… Rhonda… er Miss Weitz… er… she booked me…I’m…”
    “Mr. Stephens?”
    I nodded, suddenly mute.
    “Ms Weitz’s assistant called ahead. My name is Casey. If you’ll follow me, Mr. Stephens, our Executive Colorist, Sonia, will be with you shortly.”
    Color? Oh yeah. They didn’t like the auburn. Neither did I, much, but I had just planned on letting it grow out or shaving it off.
    She directed me to a plush, leather bench seat.
    Another woman in the same navy uniform approached me. She was thin, with bony shoulders, skinny tits, and shiny dark brown hair.
    “Hi there, I’m Sonia. How are you today, Mr. Stephens?”
    Before I could reply she was running her fingers through my hair with a critical eye. She shook her head. People seemed to do that a lot around me.
    “Well, I’m going to have to strip out this color first, Mr. Stephens, before I can put the blond in.”
    “Blond?”
    “Yes. That’s the instruction Ms Weitz has given. Between light blond and gold blond.” She hesitated for the first time. “I understand it’s for a film role?”
    “Er, yes, I guess. Okay, then.”
    She smiled. “Right! I’ll go mix the colors. Can we offer you a beverage? We have a range of herbal teas…”
    I noticed she dropped the ‘h’ on herbal. It sounded foreign, very sexy.
    “…or skinny latte, decaffeinated Americano, mineral water – still and sparkling, freshly squeezed pomegranate juice…”
    Bloody hell. It was all so healthy. It made me want to ask for a double cheeseburger, fries and enough caffeine to stun a bull elephant. I settled for water.
    I was so pathetic.
    Ninety minutes later, I’d been dyed, manicured, shaved and had my eyebrows threaded and waxed. God knows how women put up with having their legs waxed. It was uncomfortable, painful even. My eyelids were pink and I looked kind of startled. I had an American girlfriend once who’d had a Brazilian: it was… interesting. My mind drifted, wondering why women would want to have their pubes ripped out using hot wax… even though the result was… an experience. Sensual, but a bit weird; I mean, she was a grown woman, after all. But this was America and things were very different… as I was learning.
    The manicure was okay and my nails were clean, even, and very shiny. And I’d definitely have that wet shave again – the hot towels felt amazing.
    I was hustled to the sink for the hair dye – or was it bleach – to be washed out by Paulo. Yet another navy-uniformed staff member. Paulo was short, über-trendy and ultra gay. From my peripheral vision I could see him running his eyes over my scruffy clothes. For once, I felt irritated rather than intimidated. I didn’t say anything – the guy was only doing his job. Sort of. Instead my irritation was aimed at Rhonda. I knew I wasn’t being fair. But I was royally pissed off.
    Paulo yakked away but I didn’t have to do much more than mumble ‘yes’ or ‘no’ at intervals.
    Then I was wheeled over to Raquel, the stylist. I looked in the mirror and blinked, shocked.
    Jesus! My hair hadn’t been that fair since I was about five years old. It looked… odd.
    “Oh! That is such a fun color on you!” said Raquel, beaming.
    I grunted. I couldn’t see what was fun about it – I looked gayer than Paulo.
    I closed my eyes and let her get on with it. I had no idea what she was going to do and I was past caring. I thought I was having an out-of-body experience and I still felt jet-lagged.
    Thirty minutes later I was done. At last. I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I’d got used to the auburn. My hair was short at the back and sides and spiky on