Chapter 55

After lunch, Jake takes us ashore on the speedboat which is moored to the back of the yacht. He
doesn’t say anything again about my hair, whether I should cut it or not, and I don’t bring it up. He has a
car and driver waiting on land to take us anywhere we desire, and leaves us with a goodbye at the port,
and orders to call him when we’re returning.

He hands me a credit card which I try to push back at him but meet his death glare. I know better than
to argue with that look. I slide it in my bag, knowing better than to push when he made it clear before
we came here that this was all on him. That if I even mentioned paying for a single thing, he would tie
me up and dump me in the ocean. Jake’s funny about very few things, but women paying is a strong
dislike. He likes to be the traditional, chivalrous gentleman. Some may think it chauvinist, and maybe it
is, but it’s a Jake characteristic. Brought up in an old-fashioned Italian family paying for everything
when a girl is with him is natural to him. There’s no arguing with it.

I’m excited and apprehensive about a shopping spree, spending time alone with this girl I just met. I
don’t really hang out with women, apart from Sarah, and even then, it’s been so long since we did. I
don’t do social outings and girly shopping days. I never did. Sarah was always more of a tomboy type,
with movies and baseball games.

Leila soon puts me at ease with her never-ending chatter. She catches my heart with talk of Sophie
almost immediately even though she only met her briefly, but I can tell that Leila will be a good,
protective, older sister.

Her mother sounds amazing. A woman who adopted five children from varying backgrounds, loves and
raises them all like her own, and is the most maternal woman you will ever meet, according to Leila. It
is obvious she adores her.

She drags me into a couple of boutiques, swanning over rails of high price tag dresses. I don’t need
any more clothes; Donna has made sure of that and I already know most of the items she bought me



carry tags higher in price than anything here. Jake is rather indulgent on that front.

I wonder what he’ll be like as a husband, should he ever find the inclination to marry. I can see him as a
spoiler of his wife, money no object and the inability to say, “No” to what she wants. The thought leaves
a bitter taste in my mouth. I don’t like the idea of Jake marrying some woman and doting on her with
gifts and clothes.

“Here we are.” Leila announces proudly as we stand in front of a classy looking building with tinted
windows and potted bushes at either side of the door. It’s a bit Mediterranean-twee yet somehow not.

“Where?” I ask, confused, looking around.

“Best salon in the Caribbean … come and meet Andre.” She beams, a huge bright flash of white, neat
teeth and charm, and drags me inside the cool, air-conditioned building.

Our sandals echo on the tiled floor and there’s a strong chemical smell in the air. We’re greeted by a
round man in a Hawaiian shirt and a bald, shaved head as he waves his arms around energetically at
the sight of her, before they embrace excitedly amid air kisses. It’s obvious they have met before. Many
times. The cooing and crooning which follow make it abundantly clear that Andre is very gay, and his
personality is just infectious.

* * *

An hour or so later I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror, unsure how to feel as Leila and Andre gush
over my new hair. It’s cut to shoulder length, but the natural wave of my hair has pulled it up by a
couple of inches, the weight which had kept it straighter now gone. It’s lying in natural beachy waves,
framing my face and he has lightened my tawny color with some sheer highlights, so I am transformed.
Younger, softer, blonder.



I shake my head, enjoying it moving around my face freely as it’s different. So un-me. This is a huge
step; cutting away my security, so that it hangs loose around me at all times, too short to really tie up in
the way I always did. I wonder how often I’ll have Jake pull my hands out of my hair now, when I fidget.

This was such a dumb idea.

I am all big eyes and pouty lips now, more like a vulnerable child.

“I love it … You look super sexy yet, adorable still!” Leila grins at me via my reflection, and Andre nods
in agreement. I grimace but show nothing on my face. Instead I plaster on a bright, fake smile as
though I agree while my stomach churns unsurely.

“I guess, I’ll get used to it.” I try for a bright tone with a smile. Completely torn about what I really think
as I stare back at the stranger in the mirror. She’s pretty.

“Jake will go pie-eyed for it, trust me. You look so hot!” Leila giggles connecting with my eye in the
mirror, catches my blush and I try to push it away.

“Yesss, beautiful girl, now has beautiful hair. You look so very sassy.” Andre cuts in with his two
pennies worth and over-dramatic hand waving as he returns to fluffing my layers.

“Sassy and sexy!” Leila giggles.

“Seductive, sassy, and sexy!” Andre quips in, not to be outdone.

“Okay, we should go.” I bust the little “S” word competition they’ve started and slide out of the chair. I
stand and let him remove the cape, now seeing it with my floaty beach dress and tanned skin, it doesn’t
look so bad. I can see why she thinks it’s cute, I mean sassy. I guess it is a little bit.

A lot more than my long locks were. I can see why they would say it’s sassy as whenever I move my
head it sways around in a very slinky way. It certainly suits my face, I’m just not sure. I’ve not cut my



hair in over ten years, letting it grow out so I could always tie it up, this feels terrifying and new. The girl
staring back at me is nothing like the manicured PA that graces Carrero Tower. This girl with short, wild
hair and floaty dresses looks romantic and soft, and a little bit flirty. She looks like a girl I never have
the courage to let anyone see. I don’t know if I like it at all and my stomach is in knots with what Jake
will say. Nerves peeking.

As we walk out into the sunshine, Leila fusses with my hair, fluffing it out with her fingers as I pull my
head away.

“I really do love it; your hair is so nice. I love your natural curl, it’s to die for.” She gushes with a grin.

“I just feel weird,” I utter tensely and look away stupidly; I feel like a child admitting it.

“Why?” she laughs. Leila is too easy to be around, she’s like Jake in that she can make me lower my
defenses and relax. Maybe it’s not her, maybe this is his effect on me, carrying through, even when
he’s not around.

“I’ve worn it tied up for years, to keep it neat and feel more professional … Like this, I look more
relaxed and less precise.” I laugh nervously.

Yes, it sounds more dumb verbalizing it.

“And that’s a bad thing, because?” she giggles at me.

“I’m not used to being so casual and laid back.” I shrug, my cheeks warming with mild embarrassment.

“Jake kinda has that effect on everyone.” She winks. Genuine affection in her eyes and it makes me
smile, then frown, wondering in what way she really thinks of him. “He’s the master of making people
lower their guard.”



I appraise the look in her eye and the hidden meaning within it. A moment of uncertainty fleeting
through me. Little green-eyed monster poking out again.

“You?” I ask cautiously, an inner pang of worry that maybe Jake and she dated in the past. I really hope
not.

“I didn’t have a good start … I was adopted when I was seven, my mother was a drunk and she didn’t
look after me too well.” Leila says bluntly. I see no shame or embarrassment in her eye, and it surprises
me. She’s completely open about her past, you would never know from how she is now that she even
had a bad start in life.

“You, were guarded?” I laugh, unable to believe it.

“Jake’s a really good friend, he’s like a big brother, in so many ways to me … He’s known me since I
was just an angry and troubled little girl and he made me laugh, pulled me out of myself.” She links her
arm through mine casually, her eyes wide and bright. I get the distinct impression Jake has never been
romantic with her. I don’t know how I know, but it’s obvious on some level. I exhale softly with relief.

“So, you two … You never …?” I stumble over my words. I just need to be sure and make myself cringe
at the same time


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