Page 37 of Beau
Now he was regaling her with stories about his other clients. Barry was flamboyant and unapologetically gay and proud of it, but he was also the worst gossip in the world and could never keep a secret. Beau disliked him intensely, not because of his sexual preference of course, but because of his inability to refrain from talking about his clients.
“I have friends who are gay, Justin Moncrieffe is one of them, but they have a lot more class. That hairdresser of yours is too much.”
So, to keep the peace, Georgie always scheduled her appointments whenever Beau was out of the house. And there was no way she could let Barry know she was pregnant, let alone carrying triplets. It would be buzzing around town by the end of the day.
If she had known she would be feeling this sick today, she would have canceled the appointment and done her hair herself. She had done that before. But now it was too late and she was praying that he would finish up and leave before she had to go to the bathroom again.
She ate toast and some soup before he came, but her stomach was not settling.
“Darling, did you hear?”
“Hear what?” She forced herself to appear interested in his tale and wished he would hurry up and go. But Barry was always a perfectionist and would not be satisfied until he had achieved a work or art as he tends to call his creations.
“Linda Crandall is going through a very bad break up.” He practically licked his lips at the news. “Apparently, that husband of hers was caught with his pants down.” He twirled his curler expertly and stepped back to view his work.
“Beautiful. Anyway, it appears that he has been diddling his stepdaughter. Can you believe it? But that happens when you marry a man who is half your age.”
“Are you almost finished?” She was going to be sick again and was so tired, she felt as if she was falling asleep.
“What’s the rush, darling?” he chided. “I am almost finished with your beautiful hair, but you need a facial.”
“No," she eased her tone when he stepped back in surprise. “I have an appointment in town in a few minutes. I will take care of my face when I am getting ready.”
He looked like he was about to disagree when she rushed on. “The last time you were here, you left tons of products for me to use. I promise you won’t be disgraced.”
His smile flashed brilliantly. “Of course, not darling. Like I mentioned before, you have one of the most beautiful skins I have ever had the privilege of attending to. Just let me spray this in your hair to keep the curls. Ah, there you go. Wonderful!” Capping the bottle shut, he slid it along with the other things he used and zipped his bag.
“I am including a very generous tip along with my usual amount," she told him, barely looking in the mirror in front of her. “I called you on such short notice.”
“I would expect nothing less. But I have to admit that you are one of my faves, so whenever you call, I come running. Now I must be on my way. That dreadful Anabel is demanding my presence, and you know how she hates to wait. That diva is such a royal bitch, I don’t know how I put up with her.”
“It must be for the money," she said with a straight face as she saw him out the front door.
His laughter tinkled out. “You are such a bitch. Well bye, darling, and keep a net on that hair until you are ready to leave.”
“Of course. Thanks Barry.”
She had barely secured the door, before she had to rush into the powder room.
*****
He eyed her critically as she stepped into the ivory gown she had chosen to wear. “Are you up to going?”
“Why do you ask?” Turning her back, she silently asked him to do up the three pearl buttons. He did not need to know that formost of the morning and afternoon, she had been sick to her stomach.
Almost everything she ate had come right back up. After Barry had left, she had retched inside the bowl and sat there on the floor, feeling so miserable and weak, it had been a chore for her to stumble to her feet.
The chicken noodle soup had soothed her somewhat and enabled her to climb into the bed. She had slept for three hours, waking up just in time to take a shower and get rid of the telltale signs of her being ill.
“You look a little peaked.” He turned her around to face him, a slight frown marring his brow. “When I called you this afternoon, it took a while for you to answer.”
“That’s because I was napping.” She touched his face lightly. “That’s what pregnant women do; you know. What do you think? The pearl or the emeralds?”
He was still not convinced that she was okay. “We don’t have to go.”
“Why Beau Colin Anderson, is there some reason why you are reluctant to show your face at this particular function? We already know several of your exes with be there and that does not bother me anymore. Not as much as it did before.”
“I am being serious Georgie.” He was not smiling. Was it his imagination or did she seem frail? “Were you nauseous today? Did you throw up?”