Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Angie, do you have a minute?”

Angelique closed her eyes for all of a second, took a breath, and after pasting a smile on her face, turned to deal with Birdie. “For you I have two.”

Birdie slapped a hand over her heart. “Aren’t you sweet, dearie? I’m after asking you for some help with my makeup and hair for the animal shelter party.”

Of all the things Angelique expected to hear, that was not it. She cleared her throat as she took in the whole vision that was Birdie McCorkle, nuclear crimson hair topping the list. She crossed her fingers behind her back. “You look beautiful as you are.”

Birdie heaved her considerable bosom. “Please. I’m after looking different, you know, make a splash with a new style. I looked you up and you were,” she cleared her throat, “are, very beautiful. And it’s so much style you have. I thought maybe you could help me.” She smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I want to turn some heads.” She fluffed her impossible red colored hair. “I’m not getting any younger, if you know what I mean.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty-five.” Angelique still could lie with the best of them.

“Oh, get on with you, dearie! I look sixty if I look a day. I’m of a mind to change the color of me hair. Marge does a lovely job, that she does, but I’m fancying something more flashy.”

If Birdie’s hair color got any more flashy, people would mistake it for the ball they dropped at Times Square on New Year’s Eve.

“Actually, I think if you change to a quieter color, you might attract a bit more attention.” Hmmmmm. A thought hit her. “Is there someone whose attention you’re trying to snag?”

Birdie’s faced turned a charming shade of fuchsia. She shrugged all casual like, but Angelique thought she saw a glimmer of something in her eyes. “Oh, no. Mr. McCorkle was the one man for me, bless his soul.” She made the sign of the cross. “I just want to shake things up.”

Yeah, and Angelique was Mother Teresa. She’d let her have her secret. And then she thought what the hell? She knew makeup and hair. She could work with Marge to give Birdie a makeover. “Why don’t you make an appointment at Hair’s the Thing and I’ll go with you.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt Marge’s feelings.”

“Of course not. I can give advice without it looking like I’m taking over.” A very new skill she’d learned.

Birdie sighed. “May all the saints and angels smile upon you, lass. It’s grateful I am to you.” Her beeper went off. She looked at it and grimaced. “I’ve got to check in with laundry. We’ll talk soon, aye?”

“Aye. We’ll talk soon, Birdie.”

She grinned. “It’s a darling accent you have there.” She gave a small wave and walked away.

Angelique smiled and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her khaki shorts while she watched Birdie walk away. This whole nice person thing was turning out to be pretty fun!

****

“It’s just insane!”

“What? That all the women in town want beauty advice from you?” Tim and Angelique sat in his hot tub under the stars. Unusually balmy and sultry for summer in Maine, it was a night for moving slow and easy.

“Well, yeah. I’ve had at least ten people call me for advice once it got around I was helping Birdie McCorkle.”

“Helping Birdie was a gift to all of mankind.” He shuddered just thinking about her old hair color and style.

“Stop it.” She lightly batted him on his shoulder. “That’s not where the story ends. Marge has offered me a small space at Hair’s the Thing so I can take appointments for makeup and consultations on wardrobe choices and things like that.”

“Sounds like it’s more your thing than waiting on tables and cleaning hotel rooms.”

“You’d think.” She took a sip of the crisp, with a hint of apricot, Rising Tide Riesling from Bar Harbor Cellars and swallowed.

Tim watched her take another sip of her wine. Tonight was the night he’d show her the photos he’d taken of her.

He had it all planned. Food from Evelyn’s, caterer extraordinaire, dessert in the hot tub, then he’d take her to bed and show her the album. She would understand.

She had to.

He had a whole speech written out. He’d practiced it in front of his bathroom mirror for the past four days. It reminded him of how he worked to perfect his pitch to Jenny Warner when he asked her to the prom.

Luck had been on his side. Jenny said yes.

He hoped with all his might that he would have the same success with Angelique.

A whole hell of a lot more than getting lucky in the backseat of his father’s car was at stake.

He’d put off the portfolio part of the evening’s entertainment, but he couldn’t hold it off forever. It was time.

“Should we take our little party back inside?”

Angelique slid so that the warm frothy water covered her shoulders and gave him a sassy grin. “What’s your plan?”

“I’ve got something to show you.”

Her eyes widened as she glanced at his groin and stiffening erection. “I think you’ve shown it to me already.”

He snickered in spite of himself. “Something else.”

“Oh,” she pouted.

“I promise you’ll like it.” Though the jury might be out on that point for a little while, as he pleaded his case. He got out of the tub, grabbed a couple of bath sheets, and wrapped one around his waist.

“Here, let me help you out.” He offered her his hand to help her out. That accomplished, he gave her the second towel.

“Thanks.” She covered herself with the huge white towel and secured it over her breasts.

“Why don’t you go on in while I grab some things from the kitchen? I scored some chocolate dipped strawberries from Julie’s.”

“Oh, yum! Hurry back.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“You know it,” he said as he led her through the door into the house.

His heart thumped hard as he bounded down the stairs to the kitchen. Not much was at stake, he mused.

Nope. Only the damn rest of his life.

****

Angelique sighed as she settled back against the plump pillows stacked up on Tim’s bed’s headboard. Drowsy from the spa tub, she closed her eyes and sank into the soft bed and crisp linens.

Tonight could literally be counted as one of the best nights of her life. She couldn’t help smiling with the happiness welling up inside her.

“Hey.”

She opened her eyes to find Tim standing in the doorway laden down with strawberries, chocolate, a bottle of champagne, and, oddly enough, a photo album. “Wow.”

He set the things down as he sat on the bed next to her then leaned in and kissed her. “I have a surprise for you.”

She shimmied up the headboard, keeping the sheet over her breasts. “Ooooh. I love surprises!”

His eyes turned very serious. “I hope you’ll like this one.” He reached for the photo album and handed it to her.

She blinked. “What is this?”

“Open it up and see.”

She rubbed her hand over the front cover of the book, awash with a sudden wave of apprehension. She glanced at his face.

He nodded. “Go ahead. Take a look.”

Her fingers trembled a little as she opened the cover. Her eyes widened and she forgot to breathe.

The album showed pictures of her, pictures from the past few weeks.

Pictures she hadn’t known about being taken.

They captured so many moments of her celebrating her freedom and her newfound confidence and identity.

Who took these?

Tim? No. He couldn’t have. She’d told him how she felt about this kind of thing. He knew.

A harsh prickling rushed over her body. Alarms rang off in her ears like air raid sirens.

Tim knew how she felt and took secret pictures of her anyway. “You son of a bitch,” she hissed as the blood drained from her head.

Tim winced. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you think you can.” She closed the cover of the album.

He reached for her hands but she pulled them away. She didn’t want him to touch her right that second.

He held his hands up in a hand’s off kind of way. “I first saw you when you were walking on the beach in front of the Yacht Club. I was at Jeff and Beth’s wedding and really feeling sorry for myself because I’d lost my ability to take pictures. Then I saw you and I don’t know, maybe I fell in love with you at first sight, or something.”

“Oh, please.” She snorted, fighting the urge to hit him over the head with the photos.

“Okay, maybe not love, but I felt something good for the first time after coming home from Iraq. Then when I found out you lived next door to me“

“What? That it would be real easy to spy on me and take pictures I didn’t know about. God! I didn’t even know you were there and you were spying on me!” She thought she might throw up.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all. I saw you and I couldn’t help myself. You are so beautiful and real and…and…I could see you. Really see you, right down to the heart of you. Look at the photos. You’ll see.”

Bile rose in her throat at just the thought of looking at more pictures. “I don’t want to.” She started to shake. “I’ve got to get out of here.” She stood, wrapping a bed sheet around her and pushed past him.

“Don’t go. Please. I love you. Let me make you understand.”

“I can’t talk to you right now.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow then.” He stepped in front of her, blocking the way to the door.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can ever trust another word you say. Please let me by.”

Tim’s nostrils flared as he stared at her. For a brief, dizzying minute, she thought he wasn’t going to move, but then he did. She brushed past him, not even going into his bedroom to get her clothes. She headed straight down the stairs and right out the door, running to the safety of her own home.

How could he have fooled her like that? How stupid had she been, thinking he loved her for the person she was? Instead, he’d been all about taking advantage of her and turning her back into an object for people to leer at.

She hiccupped, a painful spasm of her diaphragm. Even worse, he was exploiting her very flawed, scarred face.

She tore off the towel she’d wrapped around her, pulled on some yoga pants and a huge T-shirt. After finding a duffel bag, she threw some clothes into it, stuffed her feet into a beat up pair of flip-flops, and left her house.

She didn’t know where she was going but the urge to run away nipped at her heels like an angry dog.

She revved up the engine of her cute little white VW and pulled out into the street. She didn’t spare a glance at Tim’s house as she sped off into the night.