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amazin'."
    I looked down at the messy pile of crap I had sho ved all over their crisp white countertop, and winced. She was right. There was garbage all through my handbag. I reached out and swept the mess back into my handbag, wiping my hand over the surface area to brush off remaining debris, and crumbled parts of my handbag lining.
    " See, told ya, you need to vacuum out that bag of yours." She chuckled.
    " It's an old one," I said, trying to drop the embarrassment.
    " Plenty of new ones here for ya, sweetheart. Ah… here she is. McKenna, this is Doreen, and she'll be your hair specialist for today." She grinned, and I saw the reflection of a chick who looked kind of gothic and steampunk, with loads of arm tattoos. She had a number of piercings in her ears, and no doubt in other places too, and she was dressed top to toe in leather; a leather waistcoat that she was wearing as a top, a black lacy bra, and tight leather pants. To finish off her look, she was wearing some serious looking black and red stilettos with zombies painted on them. "Doreen is the best we got here, so you're in good hands."
    Oh boy. I watched my make-up artists retreating figure in the mirror 's reflection and wondered what exactly I was in for with Doreen.
    " Hiya." Doreen smiled at me. "So." She pulled the rubber band from my hair, and threw it in the bin beside us. "What have we got here?" She was chewing gum. I grimaced. The last thing I wanted was for any of that stuff to get anywhere near my hair. She ran her fingers through hair that I had, thankfully, managed to wash this morning in my hung-over state, and hummed to herself. There were a few moments silence before she finally spoke. "Despite what you have been doing to your hair by stretching it and pulling it up in a rubber band for what looks like…years, it's actually in relatively good condition." She pulled some scissors out of her tool belt and snipped off a little bit of the hair she was holding between her fingers and analysed it closely.
    I was starting to panic. This woman did not look like my usual hairdresser. In fact , she looked so completely off the charts in terms of normality, I had to question if she was really someone I wanted to cut my hair let alone anything else. The last thing I wanted to do was start this job looking like David Bowie or Rod Stewart. My mouth was dry, but I refused to speak. I just let her continue doing her thing. I think I was too afraid to voice any opinions, just in case she pierced my ear with her scissors or something equally frightening.
    " Yep." She nodded. "I think its fine. Definitely needs a good trim, which I'll do for you right now, and then I'll style it, and you'll be ready to go on your way to wardrobe."
    I bit my lip and nodded. It wasn 't like I had much of a choice. I had a feeling that if I jumped up and ran, chances were high that she would tackle me to the ground, zombie heels and all. Nerves streaked through me at the thought that I was embarking on this job very shortly.
    Annalise had been quite clear that she had a client lined up already. She was going to show me his profile before I left to meet with him. I didn 't know if that was going to make this situation any better. In fact, it could possibly make it a hell of a lot worse, especially if the client was unattractive… and if he was too good looking I would probably fumble and fart my way through the evening.
    I looked at myself again in the reflection , and I had to admit that this chick was actually doing a good job on my hair. She was shaping my cut, which is something that I had never really had done before. Before I knew it, she was pulling straightening irons from her tool belt, and plugging them in beside me. And then she set to work.
    Less than ten minutes later Doreen was finished. She placed her hands on my shoulders and looked at me in the reflection . "Lovely, darling, just lovely."
    I had to admit that she 'd done a bloody good job. My hair was glossy, falling