Possibly the only librarian who got told off herself for talking too much, NATALIE ANDERSON decided writing books might be more fun than shelving themâand boy, is it that! Especially writing romanceâitâs the realisation of a lifetime dream, kick-started by many an afternoon spent devouring Grandmaâs Mills & Boon>® booksâ¦
She lives in New Zealand, with her husband and four gorgeous-but-exhausting children. Swing by her website any timeâsheâd love to hear from you: www.natalie-anderson.com
ANOTHER red light. Kelsi Reid braked for the fortieth time, muttering beneath her breath as she reached for the comb sheâd slung on the passenger seat.
Probably the rest of the clientele came to the salon looking as if theyâd just walked out of anotherâlike magazine models, all coiffed, perfumed and perfect. Kelsi hadnât done her hair or make-up. Sheâd only had time to put in some contacts and wriggle her still-damp-from-the-shower body into her dress.
If only she hadnât fallen asleep at her desk last night as sheâd struggled to get all her work done to be able to take today off. If only she hadnât woken up to find her hair trailing in the glass of super sticky, high-energy soda beside her. If only she hadnât frothed the shampoo into such a mass of white bubbles that theyâd taken an age to rinse outâ¦
If only she didnât have to go at all.
With the beginnings of a caffeine withdrawal headache, sheâd hit every single red light on the way to Merivaleâthe poshest suburb in Christchurchâthe home of LâEssence Spa, and the appointment sheâd felt too guilty to be able to cancel.
If only she didnât feel like such a fraud.
Her coworkers and boss had booked it for her. Paid for it. A combi birthday present/reward for working so hard. Lovely thought but the last thing she wanted. She hated mixing it with the beautiful womenâbecause she was so not one of them. With her horrendous colouring combined with her short stature and the minimal curves that only just stopped her from looking completely boyish, sheâd suffered years of taunts as a teenâthe freak with the father who hadnât wanted to bother with her either. Fabulous combination made all the more annoying given it had been he whoâd donated the gross colour gene in the first place.
Sheâd got such an inadequacy thing going sheâd actually let her old boyfriend take her to a hairdresser and then shopping afterwards so he could purchase her a whole new lookâbut sheâd still not been pretty enough for him. Years later she still couldnât believe sheâd let a guy take control of her appearance like that.
In the end sheâd rebelledâpeople thought she looked weird? Sheâd give them weird. She dressed differentlyâcovering up her almost unnaturally pale skin, covering up her undersized assets, hiding her hair, her eyes, herself. If a man was going to want her, it would be for her mind, or her sense of humour, or fascinating personality or something.
Not that sheâd had a date in ages. But she was too busy with work anyway. And it didnât help that her coworkersâthe only people she actually knew in this townâwere in love with the girls with big guns and even bigger boobs who were the heroines of all the computer games they were so addicted to. In other words, not real.
Kelsi couldnât compete with the living, breathing beauties of this world, let alone the male fantasy ones, so she didnât even try.
But all her workmatesâand all of them were maleâhad thought this was the sort of thing any woman would wantâa day of beauty pampering. She knew theyâd meant it kindly. They didnât know about the guy whoâd stood and watched every snip of the hairdresserâs scissors trying to shape her into something he thought was more attractive. Now she cut her hair herself.
Yet she hadnât the heart to tell them she didnât want it. She knew how exclusive and expensive that salon was, how well intentioned theyâd been. And, hey, there were options other than haircuts and spray-tansâfull body massage being the one that had really appealed. And a professional wax was always welcome.