Cinder looked fantastic. Well, maybe fantastic wasn't quite the ultimate description, but she looked infinitely better than she had before. The girls even gathered around at the end to see my accomplishment, hovering over Cinder like she were a basket of kittens. Their fingers reached out in such accord as well, smothering her hair and examining the results of the facial. There wasn't much I could do about sunburned skin and freckles, but I had done something.

As for Cinder, she squirmed under the attention with the brightest of smiles on her face that sent her back ten years to the maturity of a third grader. "My face feels weird, Tansy."

"It's called healthy skin," I replied happily as I swept up the mess of hair and dirt from the floor and dumped it into the trash. Cinder was a pretty thing now, but she certainly had been a dirty thing. It was my magnum opus, I decided. I really didn't know what those terms meant, but then again the school of the regular masses had not been my thing.

"You're so adorable!" Linda squealed, all but pinching Cinder's cheeks. "I feel like such a brat but I thought for sure that you were going to be a complete disaster. We hate most Cinderellas around this place, you realize. We despise them."

Cinder laughed. "Hey, I try to be despicable. What was that gunk you put in my hair again?"

I held up the bottle. "It's called conditioner. Maybe we should get you some."

"But I don't bathe."

"Yeah. I know. You should start."

A blush deepened through her red and glowing face as she ducked her head. "I mean, I'll hop in the horses' trough before they drink and all, but I'm really so darn busy and I'm just gonna get dirty all over again—"

Alexis whistled lowly and turned back to the unfortunate princess she was now ignoring. "Maybe we should load you up on soap."

"Or I could just steal some from my stepmom's place."

I decided I liked the girl. I finished my cleaning, checked my make-up in the mirror (a long day of scrubbing and washing could wreak havoc on a face) and gave my final scrutiny of the dirty little stable girl known as Cinder. She was not a Cinderella yet, but her hair was clean. And I liked it. Once a little shampoo, conditioner, and mousse had been swabbed through that mane of hers it was quite lovely. The highlights were incredible. I wanted them. They ran down the length of her hair, cracks in the hardened honey. Her eyes were humongous now that they weren't blocked by mud. Like a pair of green apples. I had scrubbed off a lot of the dead skin on her face, and once the rest of it healed up she just might have something going for her. I leaned back against the counter and smiled.

Cinder grinned, those white-white teeth glittering. I would kill for teeth that white. "Do I like pretty?"

I nodded. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

"It's all right." She stuck a finger into her ear for a scratch. Ick. "I'm not a pretty sort. There's not a whole lot of use for prettiness, my mama used to say."

Good grief, she sounded like one of those feminists! "Nonsense. Everyone likes to be pretty." I paused. "Do you hate it?"

She shook her head fervently in another juvenile shoot to innocence. It was like dealing with a child. "I love it! Thank-you so much!"

"We're going to have to get you a different outfit, you realize. And do you make-up."

She began picking at her. "What for?"

I had to be honest. "Because your clothes are disgusting!"

She didn't seem to be offended, only nodded with a stare as if I were the idiot. "Of course they're disgusting, I take care of horses in them."

I laughed. "Cinder, Cinder, Cinder. Make another appointment with me and I will show you many other ways."

She bit her lip. It was adorable. She had good, plump lips. "Sure, but I want some of that conditioner stuff in return."

"Deal." If a bottle went missing, I would blame Rowe.

It was only after Cinder had left that I feared she would use the expensive conditioner on the tails of horses.

Dang that girl.

Alexis raised an eyebrow at me. Clearly she was thinking the same thing. The mind-reading of the Salon girls was finally including me.

I shrugged and smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow." I grabbed my things and headed to the door.

It flew open, smacking in the in the face. My hands jumped to my throbbing nose. Thank goodness I wasn't bleeding. But I think I said something very unladylike.

"Mr. Maser, you just killed the new girl!" Alexis shouted.

I lifted my head, wrinkled my nose, and tried to suck tears back into my eyes.

There was my boss, watching me in bemused fascination that did not seem to include any remorse. Jerk. "Oh, Tansy! Oh, dear, I'm sorry! Was that you in my way?"

I stumbled a few feet back. What a jerk! "You were in my way."

"I didn't realize you were coming out."

"I think you broke my nose."

He rolled his eyes at that and blew a noisy sigh through his lips. "I did not break your nose. I have seen many a broken nose in my day and that one certainly isn't broken. And if it is, I shall see in a few minutes because I want to speak with you."

My mind instantly returned to the bottle of conditioner. "Huh? I was just heading out."

"I know. Which is why I wanted to stop you. I only have a very short time…" He glanced at his watch. "Four minutes, to be exact."

I rubbed my nose. Dang, but it hurt. If it bruised, I truly would kill the man. I only hoped his sexy son would not mind. "Do we have to go to your office?"

He glanced at Alexis and her princess. "Do you mind to overhear us?"

"I could care less," came the reply. Alexis had just turned on a hair dryer.

"Then we can speak here and just toss you over the sink in the off-chance your nose starts to bleed again," he said nonchalantly. Too casual to match his outfit. He was going for something of a business suit this time. It was actually quite tasteful. "I know you went out with Rowe."

"We had dinner," I said.

He nodded impatiently. "Yes, I realize very well that you had dinner."

Was he going to chew me out for having dinner with a grown man?

"Tansy, I just want to let you know that we have curses around this place. If you haven't heard all the gossip yet, and that does not begin to cover the amount of bad spells flying around this business."

"More gossip!" Alexis said happily.

I stared at him. How utterly random. "Besides Mary?"

He nodded pointedly and held up a finger. "Besides Mary. I just wanted to warn you of that. I must be honest and say that I'm not yet entirely positive of your intelligence…"

My jaw dropped.

"But intelligence really has nothing to do with it and I did not hire you because you had a doctorate's. That kind of learning would make it impossible to work in such an area as this."

What in the world was he talking about? I felt my lungs grow heavy. How dare he! He had just about called me stupid! I knew I wasn't very smart, but to have him tell me like that! "Mr. Maser, I really think I should be going home right now."

I expected him to deny it, but he only nodded. "Yes, you should, and I really must be getting back to my office immediately, so let me walk you to the door."

I pushed past him. "I don't need you to walk me to the door."

He didn't argue. "Then suit yourself."

I hit the hallway outside the Salon and took off at a run.

It was only in the middle of super-sizing my dinner that night that I wondered what any of that had to do with Rowe. Fortunately the answer came immediately. Mr. Maser was more than an idiot. He was absolutely crazy. Not to mention tactless.

I drove home in a fury, shoving fries down my throat the entire while. Thank goodness I had the metabolism I did or I would only feel worse.

He had doubted my intelligence, whatever that meant. And then he had the nerve to act like it was a good thing.

I swerved my car into the parking space. The fries were all but gone and a frosty tasted good over that salty aftertaste. What was so wonderful about being smart? Most smart people I knew were complete snots. At least I was pretty. Mr. Maser couldn't claim either.

Was he saying that I was too dumb and silly to date Rowe? Was Rowe in need of a Harvard graduate girl with a hairy mole?

I marched up to my apartment, wishing I had the skill to eat a chicken sandwich while walking. I stabbed my key into the lock, twisted hard, and entered the apartment.

My drink fell from my hand onto the carpet.

My few books had been dumped from the shelf in a hodge-podge of pages. The television was on its side, covered partially by a cushion from the couch. A pillow had been ripped open, stuffing scattered like snow over my carpet except where the remains of my dishes threatened bare feet.