Her first appointment was with a beauty consultant. The woman seemed to know her stuff except when it came to Kitten’s hair. “No.”
“Sir?”
“I said no, you’re not cutting her hair.”
“But it will work better for what we’re looking for if we just took a few inches off….”
My glare was all that was needed to change her mind. I hovered over everything like a concerned dad as she went from one place to the next.
I never knew there was so much involved in this side of things. She had to have her skin studied for some fucked up reason, which someone tried explaining to me, had to do with make-up tones, whatever the fuck that is.
Her body had to be measured and weighed, and her nails, hands, feet, everything came under scrutiny. By hour three, she was holding my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.