I swirled around and was looking into the green eyes of none other than Paul Baranchi, a bit heavier and a little balding, but definitely Paul. "Surprised?" he said with a mocking frown.

I held my hands to my red cheeks, flushed with embarrassment. "Surprised, isn't the word. How? When? What are you doing here?"

Carol pushed me into a chair and began clipping on a bright pink apron. "Paul's here to cut your hair." She leaned closer to me. "He's the new guy."

I looked up at Paul. "You're the new guy?"

He laughed. "Uh-huh. Cosmetology school at the city community college was as close as I got to the glamour of Hollywood."

"Oh no, you heard all that?"

"I hung on every word."

"I am so sorry."

"Oh, I liked hearing most of it, except that part about nothing to look at.

I cringed. "Maybe I don't want you to cut my hair."

"Relax. Remember, I'm the guy that never held a grudge. Not even after you turned me down a dozen times to go out with Ji..." Paul must have noticed Carol's warning look and nudges. He reddened.

I was furious with Carol. She must have told Paul about the divorce as soon as she had a chance. I glared over at her and she shrugged.

Paul came to her rescue. "I'm sorry, Jayne. I had heard about your...your..."

"My divorce," I said, relaxing. It wasn't like a big secret or anything, just a painful truth. "It's been six months ago, now." I just wanted to change the subject. "Carol, why don't you bring me one of those style books I never look at. I've got to figure out what to do with this hair."

Carol touched my arm and smiled, "Sure. You don't move now. Paul can work on you, and I'll supervise." She hurried off.

"Was that a threat or what?" I asked under my breath. Paul heard and laughed. As Paul began brushing my hair, I glanced up on his stand and saw a picture of two beautiful children, a girl with blond curls tied up with pink ribbons and a boy with dark hair. "Yours?" I asked, pointing at the pictures.

"Mine. All mine."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when my ex split, I got the better end of the deal. She got a dead end waitressing job in Los Angeles, waiting for the big break, and I got these two gorgeous people." He smiled, touching the wooden frame and then the faces of his children. "Do you have any kids?"

I struggled to smile and keep away the old familiar pain. "No. Jim and I couldn't have kids." I hesitated, shifting beneath the pink apron. "I guess I'm glad, seeing how things turned out." The brushing stopped. In the mirror I saw Paul looking at my reflection. I could tell he wanted to say something, but Carol came back, carrying at least five big style books, scraps of paper sticking out haphazardly.

I laughed. "You couldn't possibly have looked through all those books today."

"No. Since you told me you wanted to have your hair cut."

"But you didn't want me to have it cut!"

"You sounded so determined." She giggled. "And I did warm up to the idea." She opened up the first book and plopped it on my lap. I glanced into the mirror and grimaced at Paul who smiled, holding back the laughter.

I looked down at the short, sleek hair cut on a model half my age who was pouting impetuously for the camera. "I can't possibly get it cut that short. Besides that looks too...too...."

"Something," Paul supplied. I nodded.

Carol turned to the next marked page. "How about this one?" she asked, looking at the book and then me.

I looked up and Paul who barely shook his head, still holding his hand to his mouth. "No, too fluffy."

Carol turned to another page and another, on and on, pointing out all the merits of the various coifs. I shook my head again and again. Some of the styles looked terrific on the models, but they didn't fit me. Paul agreed. His chin in his hand, he analyzed each design. Then, he looked at my face in the mirror, touched my hair or held it in his hands. Sometimes he would make a comment -- too short, too fussy, too plain -- but he always ended up shaking his head.

Carol closed the last book with a smack and sighed, "Well, I don't know what else to do."

I tried to look guilty for Carol's sake. "Sorry. None of those hairdos looked like me."

Paul swung me around in the chair. "I know. Let's wash your hair and you can think about it."

"That sounds like a good idea to me," said Carol, piling up her books. "I'll do it."

Immediately Paul replied, "No, I want to. Look at all this luscious hair. I haven't washed a head of hair this full since my glory days." He rubbed a hand over his balding pate.

I laughed. He smiled and led me to the shampooing area.

Long, Beautiful Hair - 3 >>>(Continue)