New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

The area, especially this building, exuded charm and nostalgia, just as the various entrepreneurs inside the building wanted.

Summer’s Place was at the end of the mall, newly converted from a small but exclusive dress shop. The rent in this district was unspeakably high, as it was throughout Incline Village.

Income Village the locals had dubbed it.

And though Summer was wonderful, resourceful and very talented, even she couldn’t have possibly afforded the rent by herself. The story in town was that her sweet, kind, rich ex-boyfriend had given her a rent-free ten- year lease.

That was true, but only half of the real story.

She’d actually won it from him in a game of poker. Strip poker. Becca had expected Summer to hide that little tidbit, but she was actually proud of it.

And Becca was proud of her. But a makeover?

Faltering on the steps, she looked out to the lake. A small company that took tourists parasailing was set up on shore, bringing in the latest paying customer, who was hooting and hollering with delight.

Becca turned and stared up at the bright, cheerful sign that read: Summer’s Place, Full Service Salon.

Her stomach tap danced. Her nerves skittered.

She wanted this, she reminded herself. It was just step number one to a more exciting, satisfying life.

When she almost believed it, she went inside.

TWO HOURS LATER she sat beneath a hair dryer, a cup of steaming tea on her right, a glamour magazine- which might as well have been printed in Latin-on her lap. She wore nothing but a robe and some scented lotion that smelled heavenly.

There was something decadent about being so completely naked beneath the robe in a room filled with people. Summer sat at her right, happily chatting away to two other customers as she held Becca’s hand.

Becca assumed it was to hold her still, to keep her from running screaming out of the salon. But she no longer felt like screaming at all.

The salon was incredibly homey and relaxing, not at all intimidating, as some salons could be. The colors were bright and cheerful, much like Summer herself. There were all sorts of snacks available-nothing made clients happy faster than something yummy to munch on. Soft rock blared discreetly from hidden speakers overhead. The reception area had been designed to look like an expensive but approachable clothing boutique, and since one of Summer’s closest friends, Monique, designed and sold clothes right here, it actually was.

An entire wardrobe had been picked out for Becca, and it hadn’t been simple. She’d wanted easy-to-wear clothes that she could both work and play in.

Summer had insisted on two different looks, one for Becca’s work and one for the nightlife she was hoping Becca would have.

They’d settled somewhere in between, but it was the lingerie she’d purchased that still had her blushing. The silks and lace seemed decadent, especially since she didn’t get all that many opportunities to show off her underwear, but there was something almost thrillingly naughty about wearing such exotic things beneath her clothes.

She’d had a delicious massage by Pierre, who’d somehow managed to convince Becca she would love to have his hands all over her body.

He’d been right. For about one-millionth of a second, she’d agonized over lying face down and naked except for one little scrap of towel barely covering her essentials. She’d asked for a bigger towel and Pierre had laughed.

She was certain every square inch of her had furiously blushed, especially the not-so-toned inches.

But Pierre had a voice made for comforting and a touch that was out of this world. If her massage, which had been very professional and proper, had gone on for two more minutes, she was convinced she would have mortified herself and had an orgasm right there on the table. She could have said the same about her pedicure and manicure.

But some of her euphoria died when Summer led her back to her work station. Her sister insisted on styling her hair, without letting Becca face the mirror.

“I’m nervous,” Summer admitted as she finished.

“Oh God, really?” Becca braced herself for the worst. “Did you turn my hair green again?”

Summer bit her lip. “How do you feel about magenta?”

“Summer!”

“Just kidding. But gee, thanks for the confidence.”

“Just tell me,” Becca said urgently. “How bad is it?”

“It’s fab, stop it. All I meant was, it’s exciting for me to do something for you for a change.” Summer squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “Especially since you’ve done so much for me.”

Becca didn’t want to take any credit for their past. Their parents had been killed when she’d been only eighteen, and Summer just sixteen. Becca had taken care of her sister, but anyone would have done the same.

“You’re always right there,” Summer said quietly. “I’ve wanted to give you something back, anything. For so long, I’ve wanted that.” She smiled. “Thanks for letting me do this.”

Slowly she turned Becca to face the mirror.

Ooohs and aaahs filled her ears as everyone around them gave their opinion. Becca hardly heard. Her gaze was locked on the mirror, her heart suddenly thundering. Her head spun. Her eyes glowed, and thanks to the magic of makeup, seemed huge and green. And her hair…it wasn’t green or magenta. Instead, it was shiny, loose to her shoulders and the most glorious color of honey she’d ever seen.

“Well?” Summer demanded, looking at no one but Becca. “Say something. Anything.”

It was a miracle, was all she could think. “I had no idea I had such good genes.”

Summer laughed and hugged her. “You ought to take that trip to Italy after all. Reward yourself.”

She couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. “Oh, I intend to reward myself,” she said slowly. “And you, too. But not with Italy.”

“I see the wheels turning,” Summer said cautiously. “But I don’t think-”

“Exactly. Don’t think,” Becca said, echoing her sister’s earlier words right back at her. Right out the window she could still see the parasailers. She smiled and turned back to Summer, who looked out the window and gasped when she saw someone hanging from a parachute one hundred and fifty feet above the lake’s water. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Becca said, smiling.

“Okay, look.” Summer drew a deep breath. “I understand you’re going through some sort of mid-life crisis. You’re only thirty, but you hear your clock ticking, or something equally stupid. Becca, stop laughing, I’m serious! Going out and dangling from a tiny little string a million feet in the air isn’t going to-”

“Chicken.”

Summer closed her mouth and glared at Becca. “I’m not a chicken. You take that back.”

“Double dare,” Becca said and waited, knowing full well Summer had never, in all her life, been able to refuse a dare.

“You’ll ruin your hair and nails,” Summer said with an insulted sniff, as if this was her only concern.

“Triple dare,” Becca whispered.

Summer dropped the sophisticated air and swore the air blue. Then she grabbed her purse. “Okay, you’re on. But last one there goes first.”

3

THERE WERE A DOZEN THINGS Kent should have been doing, but instead, long after everyone had gone home for the day, he stood in his office, staring blindly out the window.