Chapter 12
Twelve
On Wednesday, Michael picked Juliana up at the salon just after six.
Once she was in the car, she kicked off her shoes and groaned. “God, my feet are killing me.”
“I don’t know how you stand up for nine straight hours.”
“I’m used to it, but sometimes my feet let me down,” she said, rubbing one of them.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Shampoo samples for Rachelle.”
“She’ll love that.”
“I brought my scissors, too. I thought she might like a trim.”
“Thanks, Jule.”
Startled, she looked over at him.
“What?”
“That’s what Jeremy calls me,” she said softly.
Michael cringed. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I don’t mind. It’s just that no one else calls me that.”
“How are you holding up? What is it? Day three?”
She nodded. “Three down, eighty-seven to go, but who’s counting?”
“Not you of course.”
“Can I ask your opinion on something?”
“Shoot.”
“If a guy sends a girl two dozen roses, what’s he saying?”
“What color?”
“Red.”
“That he screwed up. Definitely.”
Juliana laughed. “Am I the only one who’s never heard that before?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Jeremy sent them to me yesterday.”
“So people are wondering what he did?”
“Yes!”
“It was a nice thing for him to do,” Michael conceded. “He didn’t have to.”
“I just wonder what else he’s doing,” Juliana said, biting on a thumbnail.
Michael kept an eye on the rearview mirror as they sat in heavy traffic in the southbound lane of the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. “Try not to think about it.”
“It’s all I think about. I just wonder, you know, is he doing it with someone else right now? Right at this very moment?”
“You’re going to drive yourself crazy with that.”
She sighed and rested her head back. “I know.” Glancing over at him, she noticed how handsome he was in a dark pinstriped suit. They hadn’t even known each other a week ago, yet there seemed to be nothing she couldn’t talk to him about. “Have you heard any more from Paige?”
“She’s been oddly, strangely quiet. I’m not complaining, but I’m wondering when the other shoe’s going to drop.”
“Maybe she’s given up.”
He snorted. “I doubt it. I just hope she leaves me alone during the trial.”
After more than an hour of crawling through rush hour traffic, Michael drove past the hotel to make sure he wasn’t being followed. It was almost seven thirty when they finally pulled up to the J.W. Marriott.
Rachelle was delighted to see them and thrilled with Juliana’s gifts as well as her plans for a haircut.
“Don’t let me keep you ladies,” Michael said. “I’ll order us some dinner. Any preferences?”
“Whatever you’re having,” Juliana said.
“I already ate,” Rachelle told him and then turned to Juliana. “You look so cool all in black.”
“It’s what we wear to work at the salon. Keeps it easy.” Juliana draped the cape she had brought from the salon around the girl’s slender shoulders and ran her fingers through her hair. “You did a good job with the round brush.”
Rachelle’s face lit up. “Do you think? I spent extra time on it today when I heard you were coming.”
Juliana smiled at her in the mirror. “So how about some layers and bangs?”
“You’re the expert. Whatever you say.”
“Let’s wash it first.”
Combing out Rachelle’s wet hair, Juliana noticed the girl wasn’t as animated as she had been the other night. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Rachelle shrugged. “I’ll have to testify soon.”
“Are you nervous about it?”
“Sort of. They’re really bad dudes, you know? Michael told me they’ll try to scare me when I’m on the witness stand, so I shouldn’t look at them except for when I have to identify them. I just need to tell the truth.”
“That’s right,” Juliana said, her heart aching for Rachelle.
“Those kids weren’t doing anything wrong,” Rachelle said softly, her eyes a million miles away.
Juliana continued to brush her hair.
“They were riding their skateboards in the parking lot when the car pulled up. I saw they were scared when they realized who was in the car. That’s how I could tell they knew them.
The two guys started yelling, and then they were shooting.
They didn’t see me, or they probably would’ve shot me, too. ”
“Thank God they didn’t see you. What did you do?” Juliana rested her hands on Rachelle’s shoulders and talked to her in the mirror.
“For a few minutes after they drove off, I was just frozen. I couldn’t move. And then I ran back to my aunt’s apartment. My mom said I was screaming. I don’t remember that. The cops came, but I couldn’t talk. For like three days, I couldn’t talk. The doctors said I was in shock.”
“Of course you were.” While Rachelle talked, Juliana began to cut and shape her hair. “It must’ve been very scary when you were finally able to talk to the police.”
Michael came to the door.
Juliana shook her head and used her eyes to tell him he was interrupting an intense moment.
He nodded and backed away.
“I guess the Benedettis had a big argument with the kids at an arcade that day. Some of the kids’ other friends were with them when it happened. They described the Benedettis, so after they were arrested I just had to pick them out of a lineup.”
“You’re doing a good thing, Rachelle, by seeing to it that they can’t do this to anyone else. You’re making so many sacrifices, but you know that’s why, right?”
Rachelle nodded. “I just wish we didn’t have to move. I wish I’d never gone outside that night. I think about that, you know? If I hadn’t forgotten my purse in the car, none of this would’ve happened to me or my family.”
“But the Benedettis still would’ve killed those kids, only they might’ve gotten away with it if you hadn’t seen it.”
Their eyes met in the mirror. “That’s true. Michael says I’m his slam dunk,” Rachelle said with a small smile as she finally noticed the haircut Juliana had given her while they talked. She reached up to touch hair that was now three inches shorter. “Wow.”
“Let me dry it, so you can see the full effect.” Juliana turned Rachelle away from the mirror and worked for fifteen minutes with the hair dryer and brush. “Okay, are you ready?”
“I’m dying to see it!”
When Juliana spun her around, Rachelle gasped. “Oh my God! Is that me?”
Juliana chuckled. “That’s you.”
Rachelle ran her fingers through the layered tendrils. “I love it! Thank you.”
“I’m glad. I’ve had this in mind for you since the other night.” Juliana styled Rachelle’s hair for another moment before she said, “You know who really needs a haircut?”
“Michael,” they said together.
“Want to help me talk him into it?” Juliana asked.
“I’m on it.”
They ventured into the adjoining room where Rachelle’s detail of police officers made a big fuss over her new look. Juliana watched Rachelle seek Michael’s approval.
“It’s perfect,” he said. “You look fantastic.”
Rachelle blushed. “Thanks.”
As Juliana ate the burger Michael ordered for her from room service, Rachelle went to work on him.
“You ought to let Juliana do something with your hair,” she said, stealing a French fry from Juliana’s plate.
“I don’t know.” He glanced from Rachelle to Juliana. “Why do I feel like I’m being ganged up on?”
“Please, Michael?” Rachelle pleaded. “Let her cut your hair.”
“If you don’t do it, Maguire, I might,” one of the cops said as she reclined on a bed with the newspaper.
“What’s in it for you?” Michael asked Rachelle.
“Entertainment,” she said with a big smile.
“Oh, all right.”
“Caved right in, didn’t he?” the same cop said to one of the other female officers, and they shared a laugh.
“Shut up,” Michael said under his breath to the cops as he let Rachelle tug him into the bathroom in her room.
Juliana followed them.
“Just a trim. I mean it. I like my hair long.”
“Let her do what she wants,” Rachelle said. “She’s the expert.”
“A trim. That’s all I’m agreeing to.”
Rachelle rolled her eyes at Juliana. “Sheesh, what a baby he is.”
Juliana smiled and draped the cape around his shoulders.
He had taken off his suit coat and tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves.
She ran her fingers through his hair for a few minutes while she thought about what she wanted to do.
When her eyes met his in the mirror, she was startled to find awareness and desire in his.
For a long moment neither of them looked away.
“Come on!” Rachelle prodded from the doorway, breaking the spell. “Start chopping.”
Juliana took a deep breath and went to work. When she was done, she discovered he was hot underneath all that hair, and suddenly the walls of the tiny bathroom seemed to close in on her.
“You look, so… so different,” Rachelle said with a love-struck sigh.
“Is that good or bad?” Michael asked, looking himself over in the mirror.
“Good.” Rachelle gazed at him with her heart in her eyes. “Definitely good.”
Michael brushed the hair off his neck. “Definitely good. I guess that’s better than butt ugly.”
Juliana chuckled.
“We’d better hit the road,” Michael said. “It’s getting late.”
“Let me clean up the hair first,” Juliana said.
“Housekeeping can do it,” he said. “I’ll ask one of the cops to call them.”
“Are you sure? I hate to leave a mess.” Juliana couldn’t get over how different he looked with short hair.
“It’s fine,” Rachelle assured her. “They send someone right up whenever we call them.”
“Okay,” Juliana said. “Well, I guess we’ll see you soon.” She gave Rachelle a hug. “Hang in there, honey.”
“Thank you. For the haircut and all the stuff.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We’ll try to come back this weekend.” Michael gave Rachelle a quick hug. “Keep up the good behavior.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They gathered their belongings, and Michael had a word with the cops before they left the adjoining room. In the hallway, the police officer on duty whistled at Michael. “Nice ’do, Maguire,” he said. “Did you girls have fun playing haircut?”
Juliana smiled at the furious look that crossed Michael’s face.
The police officer’s laughter followed them to the elevator.
“I said a trim, Juliana.” Michael punched the down arrow. “What does that word mean to you?”