The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One Read Online Free PDF

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    Trish linked arms with Janel, spun her right back around, and ushered her outside and into the back seat of a waiting limo. “We have an appointment in fifteen minutes at Salon Lemonnier. Depending on how long it takes them to shave off the rough edges, we’ll order in lunch or grab something quick. Then we’ll spend the rest of the day shopping.”
    In no time, Janel was caught in Hurricane Trish. She had her hair wrapped in enough foil to receive images from the Mars Rover, her feet soaked in a pool where little fish ate the dead skin off her heels, one woman buffed her fingernails and she sat taller, no doubt a byproduct of the massage that took six years of grad school tension out of her shoulders.
    Trish had other brides scheduled at the salon for “maintenance,” and she took this time to catch up with them, making sure they had their calendars organized and giving them fashion advice for upcoming events.
    Janel was introduced to both girls in passing. As she settled into her stylist’s station, she gave the other brides a careful once-over.
    The taller one had everything together. Though she closed her eyes to relish the hand massage, she didn’t seem haughty, just happy to have a moment to relax.
    The shorter girl had a hint of country twang in her speech, and her blond hair would have made a pageant queen jealous. She talked to her stylist about her little brother, a high school bulldogging champion, saying how much she missed him and was proud of his accomplishments.
    Janel’s first impression, that BMB brides were gold diggers, took a hit.
    Janel put aside her curiosity about the brides and opened her book. She read through the introduction and was halfway through the quiz to find her own love language when her stylist, Clair, scooted her back toward the sinks to wash out the colorant. Once in the swivel chair, Janel looked for a difference, but her dark hair just looked dark. Clair swung her around and pulled out a pair of scissors.
    “I want to keep the length.”
    Clair patted her shoulder. “Of course. I’m just going to shape it. How do you feel about bangs?”
    “I prefer not to have them.”
    “Are you sure? They’re really in right now.”
    “I’ve never had good luck with bangs. They’re so high maintenance.”
    Clair exchanged a look with Trish. Trish backed up Janel with a shake of her head.
    Clair sighed with enough drama to fill a stage and agreed, “No bangs.”
    For what seemed like an eternity, Clair pulled and snipped while the pile of hair on the floor grew to alarming thickness. Janel was sure she’d have nothing left. Clair finally set the scissors down and pulled out bottle after bottle of hair products, slathering them all over her scalp and down to the tips.
    “You have a great wave and I want to use that.” She pulled out the blow dryer and a hand-shaped diffuser and set to work.
    When she was finished, Janel tentatively reached up to touch her hair. “Wow.”
    Clair beamed. “Do you like it?”
    Turning this way and that in the mirror, Janel took in her luscious waves. She rarely wore her hair down, and when she did, she flat-ironed it smooth. Clair had amped up the body, and the romantic waves, cut in choppy layers, framed her face and cascaded down her back. It was a little shorter than before, but not much.
    “Instead of going with one color, I added low lights to your natural shade.”
    Trish stepped forward. “I like it. It’s not as dramatic as a solid black would have been, but the waves don’t need the drama. Did you do her eyebrows too?”
    “Yep.”
    “It works with her skin tone.”
    “Her eyes really pop, don’t they?”
    “Love it,” said Trish. “What do you think?”
    Janel pointed at her head and asked, “Can I do this?”
    “Sure, it’s all in the diffuser. I’ve put together a basket with the products I used and there’s a blow dryer with the attachments. They’ll have it for you at the front desk.”
    Blow dry and go—I