Free The Playboy by Carly Phillips

fates were still smiling on her, Kendall decided her first stop would be the beauty parlor to have her hair fixed.
    She walked into Luanne’s Locks, the place Raina had suggested the night before. The strong ammonia smell hit her immediately, clogging her lungs and bringing tears to her eyes. When she finally stopped tearing, she was able to look around. Pink wallpaper, burgundy chairs, and gleaming chrome and mirrors surrounded her. A glass case with hair products took up one wall at the front of the store, a perfect place for Kendall’s jewelry to enhance the display—if the owner agreed to a consignment deal.
    Kendall had approached many proprietors in various cities to take in her designs, and she hoped the owner would be receptive here. No one sat at the reception desk, so she headed deeper inside and paused at the top of one step that divided the entry area from the working one. For a small place, the salon was crowded with women and the chatter sounded loud and friendly, giving her hope.
    Kendall drew a deep breath and paused by the first station. “Excuse me. Can you direct me to the owner or receptionist?”
    “That’d be me.” The stylist, a woman with a bouffant hairdo reminiscent of the fifties, turned to face her, teasing comb in hand. “How can I help you?”
    Kendall smiled. “I’m Kendall Sutton and I’d like to make an appointment.”
    The stylist didn’t have a chance to answer. A customer seated in her chair leaned over, speaking in a stage whisper to another woman with rollers in her hair at the neighboring station. “It’s Rick Chandler’s new girlfriend,” she said, exercising her lungs.
    The information traveled from the two manicurists sitting a few paces away and in seconds silence descended in the shop as all eyes looked at Kendall and none appeared friendly. The hope she’d held for winning over the store owner evaporated along with her positive mood.
    Kendall had spent a lifetime as the new girl. She’d entered many a schoolroom or situation knowing no one, set apart from the crowd, and had learned early in life that she’d never be around long enough to let the opinions of others matter. As long as she felt happy and secure, as long as she lived an honest life and could look at herself in the mirror, that’s what counted—more wisdom imparted by Aunt Crystal, and words Kendall took to heart and carried with her always. Wisdom that never failed to buoy her spirits.
    Until now. A strange feeling of discomfort enveloped her. Odd for someone used to being the outsider.
    “Her hair’s pink.” The statement sounded like a shout in the otherwise silent room.
    As half a dozen wide-eyed, curious women continued to stare, Kendall clenched her hands into a fist to prevent herself from lifting a finger to the strands. Her stomach cramped and self-consciousness set in. Another unfamiliar sensation for someone who’d never before cared what others thought of her.
    She forced a grin and ran what she hoped was a carefree hand through her hair. “That’s what I came here to have fixed.” Though these people rattled her, she refused to let the insecurity show.
    “Everyone go back to your gossiping and quit staring at the girl.” From the back of the shop, an attractive redhead came into view and strode to where Kendall stood. “You ignore these people.” She shook her head in disgust. “I’m Pam. I’m co-owner of this place, and the lady standing next to me with her mouth hanging open is my mother, Luanne.” She jabbed her mother lightly with her elbow. “The other owner, and one who’s usually a lot more polite to her customers.”
    “Forgive my poor manners.” Luanne held out her hand and Kendall shook it. “Everyone was talking about Rick’s new lady friend and then I looked up and there you were.” Luanne lifted a hand to her mouth. “I’ll shut up now.”
    Pam shook her head. “Good idea, Mom.”
    “It’s no problem, really. Besides I’m sure this pink hair