More Than Words(67)

She couldn’t find an elastic. But she did find her tiny Swiss Army knife, a gift from Caro for her twenty-first birthday. “Just in case you ever feel threatened,” Caro had said. Nina had never used it, but now she took out the scissor tool. Right there on the street, Nina decided it was time to cut her hair. She didn’t want to see her old self in the mirror anymore.

Chin length, she decided as she let her hair out of its ponytail. She’d made it through just a couple locks when she realized this was insane. Down the street was a hair salon.

“Can I help you?” the woman behind the front counter asked, taking in Nina’s day-old makeup and puffy eyes. “I was just opening up the shop,” she said. “We don’t take customers for another half hour.”

“I . . . I was hoping for a haircut,” Nina said.

The woman eyed her partially cut hair.

“Sometimes when something terrible happens, a new haircut is a good first step,” the woman said. “I think I can squeeze you in before my first appointment.”

She led Nina to a chair and threw a cape around her shoulders. “I’m Hannah, by the way. Hannah Lee.”

“I’m Nina,” Nina answered, leaving off her last name.

Hannah cut quickly and efficiently. As they finished up, she shook out Nina’s hair with her fingers, letting it fall back into place.

“It’s a great length on you,” she said. “Really brings out your cheekbones.”

Nina looked at herself in the mirror. She was someone else now. Her transformation was complete. Short hair, pierced ear, no Tim.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Hey,” Hannah answered. “Women have to stick together, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nina agreed. “We do.” She thought about Leslie and Priscilla, about Caro. And she thought about her aunt. Why hadn’t she stuck around? Why hadn’t she been there for Nina after her mother died? Nina was going to find her. Talk to her and figure out why she’d disappeared. “How much do I owe you?” she asked Hannah.

“That’d usually be about sixty-five, but I’ll give it to you for fifty,” she said.

Nina nodded and handed over her credit card. “Thank you,” she said, as she took the credit card receipt and left Hannah a $200 tip, equaling out what it usually cost to get her hair done. “I really needed this.”

When Hannah took the receipt back her eyes opened wider. She looked at the name on Nina’s credit card and Nina saw her make the connection. But Hannah didn’t say anything. All she did was hand Nina back her card and a small square wrapped in foil. “This is my favorite eye makeup remover, if you want to give it a try,” she said.

Nina thanked her again and, while Hannah went to the back of the shop, Nina walked over to the mirror by the door and wiped off her eye makeup. War paint, Caro had always called makeup. “Give me a minute,” she’d say on family vacations, “I need to put on my war paint.”

Nina winced. Would she really lose Caro now? Forever? She looked in the mirror again and wished she had mascara with her. Eyeliner. Lipstick. She needed war paint. Especially if she was heading into battle on her own.





63



As Nina started walking home, her phone pinged. She wondered if it was Tim, saying maybe they could be friends after all. It was Jane.

We need to talk about last night. Can you come to HQ ASAP? Take the service elevator just in case photogs are out front.

Nina looked at the time. Eight forty-five. She wasn’t looking forward to a conversation about last night with Jane. But it had to happen.

I’ll be there in an hour, she wrote. She’d go home and get ready first. Put on her war paint.



* * *



? ? ?

When Nina got to campaign headquarters, she went around the back, like Jane had suggested, and texted so someone could come down and unlock the door.

While she was waiting, she started a text to Leslie and another to Pris, explaining what had happened with Tim, but before she’d gotten the words right, the door opened in front of her, and Rafael was standing just inside the entrance.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Nina said. She ducked inside, and Rafael studied her for a moment before they started walking. “New hair?” he asked, as they moved through the loading dock, toward the freight elevator.

“Mm-hm,” she said.

Rafael paused. “It looks great.”

His responses were so different from Tim’s.

“I’m sorry if I provoked your boyfriend last night,” he said. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“My ex-boyfriend,” Nina answered quietly.

Rafael looked at her as he pushed the elevator button, sympathy on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Really?” she asked.

Rafael laughed as the elevator dinged. “Well, no,” he said. “But that’s what you’re supposed to say when someone tells you they’ve broken up with their boyfriend. And I know it’s a hard thing to go through, no matter what caused it.” His face turned serious again. “Was it because of me?”

Nina shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “That was maybe part of it, but there was a lot more.”

“There always is,” Rafael said.