Sex, Lies, and Beauty Aides (11 page)

Six hours and twenty-two pages of notes later she sat back, excited because she had answers and a bit more focus. Her brain was on information overload and now it was up to her to process it all. Because rather than having answers she found she had even more questions.

The details she’d discovered cluttered her mind. She needed a mindless evening with Travis. At some point, he was bound to make her laugh.

Come Sunday night Sabrina sprawled on to the couch. She’d passed the weekend reading the books she’d purchased, watching the movies and spent her evenings with Travis.

There had been no change in his attitude toward her and nothing more than a chaste kiss on the forehead when he departed.

So much for romance, love, or sex.

She was nothing more than the proverbial ugly stepsister nobody wanted.

5

Sabrina awoke Monday morning refreshed and eager to research her upcoming beauty aids and cosmetics articles. Mondays were her day to try examples she’d collected during the week to see what worked, and unfortunately, what didn’t. The best part was she got to do it from home, in her nightshirt, the ratty one with the picture of Garfield scarfing lasagna, and comfy, fuzzy pink slippers.

Counter space organized, she gathered the ingredients for the mask. Her stomach churned at the thought of trying to modify the catastrophic lip-gloss. She grabbed the bag containing dried lavender, essential oils, and other bubble bath ingredients and took them into the bathroom. If the bubble bath was a success, it was sure to be a highlight to her valentine fourteen preparations for the perfect date.

In the kitchen, she started with the mask. The oatmeal container was empty. A key ingredient. “Phooey.” She added oatmeal to her shopping list and searched the cupboards for an alternative. Oat flour would do just fine.

The recipe suggested the contents of two vitamin E capsules, but since the oils always irritated her skin, she substituted half an avocado. Avocado oil was one of the best beauty secrets in the world. With a potato masher, she annihilated the defenseless fruit then folded it in with the rest. The mixture resembled an extra thick Guacamole dip instead of a facial mask.

With an excited laugh, she retreated to her bathroom and secured her hair in a ponytail. She applied a thick layer of goop to her face, making sure to cover everything except her eyes, mouth, holes of her nose, and just under the chin. The remainder, she took to the kitchen and sealed in a plastic container in case this variation turned out well. Kat or Jill might give it a try.

No sooner had she set the bowl on the counter, her phone rang. Luckily the phone in her living room also had a speakerphone so at least the gunk on her face wouldn’t smear all over her receiver.

“Hello.”

“Hi honey, it’s Mom. I know this is the day you usually work from home. I thought I’d try to catch you before you got too involved.”

“That’s okay, Mom. I’m trying out a new mask. I can talk to you as it hardens.”

“Oh, what’s in it and what’s it supposed to do? Maybe I’ll try it. I’m not getting any younger you know.”

“Let me check the results first and if it’s any good I’ll send you the recipe.”

“Fine, dear.”

For twenty-five minutes her mother filled her in on the latest details of her family’s life, while Sabrina made notes in her notebook about the recipe, changes she’d made then tidied her front room as her mother talked and talked and talked.

She had days when she missed her parents and brother more than she cared to admit. Despite the loneliness, she was grateful for what she had and what she’d made of her life in their absence. Well, most of it anyway.

By the time she hung up and returned to the bathroom to see if her mask was dry enough, it had tightened around her face to the point she was no longer able to wiggle her chin.

She started at the top, and tried to pull it off at the hairline. It was stuck on tight. When that didn’t work, she applied a hot washcloth hoping to wipe it off that way. It was solid. Thumping a finger at her cheek, it sounded like a hollow log, which made her pull harder causing significant pain and panic.

She raced to her coffee table and speed dialed Kat’s cell. The phone rang twice before she answered.

“Kat speaking.”

“It’s Sabrina.”

“What’s wrong with you? Your voice sounds funny.”

“Is there any chance you can escape for an hour or so?”

“No way. I’m at a day spa, covered in mud.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll try Jill.”

“Don’t you remember? She left first thing this morning for Denver taking her mom to the doctor.”

“Crap. That’s right. I’ll figure something out.”

“Sorry. And as soon as I leave here, I have an appointment with a counselor at the University.”

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t handle myself.” She hoped.

“If you change your mind, call me back and leave me voicemail. Good luck.”

Great, now what? She hated the thought of Travis seeing her like this, but it was better than a trip to the emergency room. With shaky hands, she dialed the phone.

* * * *

Trent was in his office finalizing the last of the layoff paperwork before it needed to be turned over to HR. He still felt guilty over the loss of personnel, but promised each person when things turned around he’d call them back.

He’d placed his signature on the last document when his cell phone rang. Thank goodness he recognized the phone number. He’d almost answered the phone as Trent.

In his best Travis voice he said, “Hey pretty lady, what can I do for you?”

“Do you have any plans this morning?”

“Nothing specific. Why, what’s up?” He checked his watch. “Are you playing hooky today?”

“No, not exactly. Is there any chance you can come over? I’m kind of in a jam and I definitely need your help.” Her voice sounded strained.

“Sure, when do you need me?”

“Now. Ah, the sooner the better. Please hurry.”

“Uh-oh, what’s wrong?” He smiled unable to hide an undertone of amusement in his voice. What happened this time? Images of past failed experiments she’d shared with him raced through his mind. He felt a twinge of sympathy even as he wondered what part of her was swollen now. Much to his chagrin, his pants were suddenly a size too small.

“Let’s say another one of my experiments didn’t turn out as I planned. Oh, and Travis, when you get here if you laugh, I swear I’ll slug you.”

“You have my complete attention. What happened?” He smiled at the memory lingering in his mind of her swollen lips from the week before.

“Just get here fast. I’ll tell you then. I’ll leave the front door unlocked, just walk in.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he promised.

“Make it ten,” she begged.

“I’ll hurry.” He hung up with a chuckle, anxious to get going. Trent’s imagination began to run amok.

He instructed his assistant he’d be out of the office for the next few hours then grabbed his overcoat, shrugged into it and headed out.

He parked his car on the street in front of her building, pounded up the stairs and let himself in the apartment.

“Sabrina. It’s Travis. Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom. I’ll be right out.”

Trent ambled around her apartment to get a feel for the woman he was so enamored with. On the kitchen counter, he spied a bowl. Curious to see what she prepared, he picked it up to smell the concoction. Nothing. He peered at the contents and concluded she must have been planning lunch for them. The temptation was too strong. He swiped a bit on the tip of his index finger and tasted. “Good God, wallpaper paste.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth and finger.

Sabrina called from another room. “I’m coming out. Remember what I said, if you laugh you’re in trouble.”

No matter what Trent expected, nothing came close to reality.

Sabrina appeared in front of him with the same yucky green goop from the bowl covering her face. “Travis? Say something.”

“I’m afraid to.” He stepped back and let his eyes roam up her body before it settled on her face. He bit his lip and almost drew blood in an effort not to smile or laugh then swallowed and asked as innocently as possible, “What happened?”

“Nothing really, just practicing to be a leprechaun for St. Patrick’s Day. Seriously? I need your help to get this blasted thing off.” She stomped her foot and shook her fists.

“First, tell me what it is.”

Sabrina’s shoulders drooped. “It’s supposed to be a facial mask. Only I can’t get it off.”

“H—how did this happen?”

“Well, I was short of a few ingredients the recipe called for so I made two substitutions.”

The cramp in his stomach grew as he tried to hold in his amusement. When she put her hands on her hips he was in big trouble.

“Travis, wipe that grin off your face”

He coughed. “Yes ma’am. So, what can I do?”

I’ve tried everything I can think of and nothing has worked. If you can’t come up with a solution, I’ll have to go to the emergency room and I really don’t want to do that.”

“Let’s start with the recipe, where is it? I’ll try to remember my basic chemistry and see if I can figure out what went wrong.” Trent scanned the three-by-five card of the ingredients, nothing wrong. “Okay, what substitutions did you make?”

Sabrina pointed to the bowl of gak. “I ran out of oatmeal so I used oat flour. And the second exchange I made was to swap the vitamin E oil for avocado.”

No wonder it tasted horrible. Trent struggled to regain his composure but it didn’t work. Laughter echoed through the entire apartment. “Sabrina, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but what you created is the equivalent to paper-mâché. By any chance did you use any petroleum jelly on your face before you put that glop on?”

“Of course not. I don’t want my face to break out. Remember? This is supposed to be a beauty mask, not a zit magnet,” She said, looking at him pointedly. Moisture welled in her eyes. She blinked causing a single tear to cascaded down the mask.

She’d trusted him to come to her rescue and here he stood laughing at her, as if she was nothing but a big joke. She’d depended on him to keep her secrets, along with her fears, and most of all not to let her down. Shame ate at him. The hurt in her eyes tore at his heart.

Her tear moistened the mask and her lower eyelashes caught in the goop, making it impossible for her to blink. She turned away.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and solemnly asked, “What do you want me to do?”

Finally, she made eye contact with him. “Help me get this off. Please.”

“What have you tried so far?” he asked, trying his damnedest to be serious.

“I’ve tried to peel it off. It’s stuck tight. I applied a hot wash rag, but it made the surface sticky.” She showed her fingers etched with traces of dried green glop. “And before you say why didn’t you just soak the hell out of it and scrape it off, we’re talking about me here, my luck. I was afraid I’d get it in my eyes and my eyes would be sealed shut. Can’t you just see me stumbling around the apartment, trying to find the phone to dial 911? Oh yeah, there’s an exciting situation I’m anxious to experience,” she said, eyes closed, arms out fumbling like a blind person. When she bumped into the coffee table she cursed. “See what I mean?” She let out a stilted laugh.

He strained to keep from laughing at the image she painted, he had to force himself to stop and to think logically. “Do you have rubbing alcohol, peroxide, nail polish remover or mineral oil? Q-tips, we’ll need them too.”

Sabrina left the room and returned seconds later, her arms laden with everything he’d asked for. As much as he wanted to laugh at the image before him, he didn’t. Even with her cartoon nightgown, hair in a ponytail, and the mess on her face he was attracted.

“Now what?” Her eyes begged him to fix things, her tone held hope.

The fact she relied on him for help ate at his sympathies. No way he’d let her down. Trent scanned her apartment before deciding the best place to do this was in the bedroom.