Tin Angel (3 page)

Alice’s hand shook as she set the cinnamon buns down on the kitchen table. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten about Jack. In her mind, his face flashed—dark brows rising over surprised blue eyes, mouth open about to protest—just before she’d snatched the hot rolls from his long, musician’s fingers and shut him out. He would want to know what happened to Alice. To the
old
Alice… What a pickle! Jack would be back. And then what? She couldn’t keep slamming the door in his face. Well, one thing was certain. She couldn’t tell him the truth about her miracle transformation. But the thought of deceiving him didn’t sit well with her either.

Jack was a good friend, and she didn’t have many of those. She thought back to the countless times he’d come to her rescue. Like the time the pipe burst in her bathroom, and he turned off the water before the whole first floor flooded. Yes, he’d proven to be a good friend all right, but, even still, she knew he wouldn’t believe her if she told him the truth. Who would? No, she had to come up with a story, and a good one at that. Thankfully, with Jack at work, she had plenty of time to think of something. Besides, she wasn’t about to let this put a damper on her day. She was a young woman with lots to do!

Shaking off the doldrums, she reached for the telephone and dialed Silvercreek Cab Company. While waiting for the cab’s arrival, she went into the bedroom and pulled down a shoebox from the closet shelf. She set the box on the bed and removed the lid. Inside were stacks of fifty and one-hundred-dollar bills. Alice liked to keep her money at home. She didn’t trust banks, after witnessing her parent’s despair at losing much of their savings in the Great Depression’s run on banks.

She counted out one thousand dollars, then tucked the money into her wallet. As she returned the shoebox to the closet, she heard the honking of the cab’s horn. She grabbed her purse and raced out the front door.

When she arrived at Lorelle, a high-end boutique, she selected an armful of outfits and proceeded to try each one on. With her shyness still an issue, she peeked out from the dressing room curtain to make sure the communal area with the large three-way mirror was empty before going out there to view the gorgeous evening ensemble she’d slipped into.

Alice had always avoided mirrors, yet she admired her reflection like some shallow debutante. The black ankle-length skirt she wore swirled around her legs as she moved, showing off her calves, and the matching lace blouse revealed just the right amount of skin. She’d never owned anything so beautiful—and she wouldn’t now, she told herself sternly. Where in the world would she wear it? With a sigh, she turned away from the mirror and headed back toward the dressing room.

A cute young woman with a short sassy haircut and a face full of freckles rushed over to her. “Oh, miss, that outfit has your name on it. Here, let me accessorize it for you.” The sales clerk took hold of her arm and led her across the store.

“I was just about to change,” Alice sputtered.

“This won’t take but a minute. I’m sure you’ll love the result. Look.” The clerk pulled a delicate gold chain from a jewelry display. She slipped it around Alice’s neck, then reached for the matching earrings. “You look stunning,” she cooed, holding the earrings next to Alice’s face. “But you need to do something with this.” She grabbed a strand of Alice’s waist-length hair, tucked it inside the black lace blouse, and grinned. “Yes, that’s it. I knew it.” The clerk tucked in the rest of Alice’s hair, then led her over to a mirror. “Now don’t get me wrong. You’ve got beautiful hair—just too much of it. It hides your pretty face. But now, well, take a look.” She stepped away so Alice could see herself.

Alice gasped. The clerk was right. She didn’t need to hide behind her hair. With a shoulder-length style, it would still be long, but it wouldn’t overpower her.

“You like?”

Speechless, Alice could only nod.

The clerk pulled a business card from her pocket and placed it in Alice’s palm. “This is Frederick. He’s a fabulous hairdresser. Tell him Kendra sent you. He’ll take extra-good care of you. Now, will you be putting today’s purchases on your credit card?”

“No, cash.” Alice entered the dressing room with her head awhirl. She had less than two weeks to find true love, and she was about to buy an outfit she didn’t need and cut twelve inches off her hair. Had she gone mad? Or maybe she was doing exactly what she needed to do in order to attract the man of her dreams.

* * *

At the salon, true to Kendra’s word, Alice was given the royal treatment, beginning with a lengthy shampoo and fabulous scalp massage. She listened to the steady
snip, snip, snip
of Frederick’s shears as he cut her hair. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her heart was pounding, yet it wasn’t fear she felt but excitement. As each section of hair dropped to the floor, a weight lifted. Old insecurities disappeared, and, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, she too was free.

With the final click of the shears, she snuck a glance.

“No, no,” Frederick shrieked, spinning her chair away from the mirror. He stood with hands on hips, tapping the toe of his heavily studded cowboy boot. “You mustn’t peek till I’m ready for the reveal.” He spoke with a heavy European accent that she thought he used more for effect than from living abroad.

“Sorry,” she murmured, sinking into the chair. The sleeve of his polyester shirt—the likes of which she hadn’t seen for decades—brushed her cheek as he worked mousse through her hair.

He grabbed the blow dryer as if he were drawing a pistol and held it beside his leather-clad thigh. “Now, tip your head down to your knees, and let me finish this masterpiece.”

Alice bent down and studied the veins in the marble floor while Frederick worked his magic on her hair.

“Here we go, Miss Alice. Sit up and toss your head back.” When she obliged, he turned her toward the mirror. “Voila.”

His smile reminded her of the Cheshire cat’s, and she definitely felt like Alice in Wonderland, but her hairstyle was a work of art.

Mountains of glossy chestnut hair skimmed her shoulders. Not too short. Not too long. Perfect. Just perfect. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Ahh, no need for words. Your eyes say it all, and with the right shadow, they could seduce a man with a glance.” Frederick snapped his fingers. A pretty young girl with flawless skin came running. “Take Miss Alice to the makeup counter and make her siz-z-le.”

By the time Alice left the salon, she barely recognized herself—glossed lips, sultry eyes and cheekbones a cover model would die for. Too bad she didn’t have anyone to show off her new look to.

At home, she dropped her armful of packages on the sofa. Jasper jumped off the windowsill and strolled around her feet. He didn’t rub against her legs as usual but kept his distance, as if trying to make out this latest change in her appearance.

“It’s all right. It’s me. Get used to it, my friend, this new look is here to stay. At least for ten days or so,” she said glumly. A chilly bolt lanced through her. The reality of her limited time dimmed the glow of the tin angel’s miracle. If she didn’t find true love by New Year’s…

To rid herself of her melancholy, Alice waltzed over to her old record player and put on Frank Sinatra. As she swayed to the music, she opened her packages. She pulled out outfit after outfit, holding each one up, then tossing it toward the sofa. Some made it to the cushions, but many landed on the floor.

Alice undid the buttons on her coral blouse, then unzipped her trousers. “Away with the old,” she sang, slipping out of her clothes and tossing them into the air, “and in with the new.” She picked up an animal-print shirt, held it up to her chest, then twirled around the parlor in her underwear.

A knock on the front door froze her. Every muscle tensed. For a moment, she was taken back to the night her world shattered
—
the night Tom had been taken from her. She’d been about the same age, but this was a new day, and it wouldn’t be a solemn-faced sergeant bringing bad news. Oh Lord, it must be Jack. She dropped the shirt and raced to the bedroom for her robe. She wasn’t prepared for a visitor. And she still didn’t know what she was going to tell him.

Jack shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans while he waited for Alice to open the door. The sun had set, giving way to evening’s bitter cold. He shivered inside his coat and prayed that nothing was wrong with the old gal. He’d spent most of the day wondering where she could have gone and who that strange woman was who’d answered her door.

He was just about to knock again when that very same woman opened the door a crack, making no attempt to conceal her annoyance or her nervousness. “What?”

His stomach soured. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. “Where’s Alice?”

“She’s still not here, and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

His gaze traveled down, and he caught a glimpse of a long slender leg peeking out from Alice’s favorite robe. “It’s freezing out here. I have some questions I need to ask you, so may I please come inside? I’m Jack Billings. I live upstairs.”

“I know.”

He raised his brows in surprise. “You do?”

“You’re Alice’s tenant. She told me a good-looking man was renting her upstairs apartment.”

The way she stared at him made him think she also found him attractive. Although flattered, he knew her type only too well—the type who piled on makeup and had every hair in place before she’d leave the house. A high-maintenance woman out to land any eligible man. He’d sworn off her type when he called off his engagement with Bethany. Three years was more than enough time with a woman who took longer putting on her makeup than he took to shower, shave, and dress.

She flung the door open. “You can’t stay long.”

“Why would I? I’d just like to know where Alice is and what you’re doing in her house.” He sidestepped her into the foyer, then strolled toward the parlor.

When he reached the doorway, his jaw dropped. The room looked like a cyclone had gone through it. Clothes were strewn everywhere. The girl might be beautiful, but she was a slob. “No time to pick up?”

A rosy flush glowed beneath her porcelain complexion. “I went shopping.” She pushed past him and began to gather up her clothes.

“I prefer to hang my wardrobe,” he said.

She shot him an icy look as she scooped up a sheer pink bra dangling from the Christmas tree. Her cheeks reddened again, and she tucked the garment under her arm. He wouldn’t have thought her to be modest. After all, she’d let him in while wearing a robe that did little to conceal her figure, and an unusually curvaceous one at that for a woman so slender.

As if reading his mind, she adjusted the clothes in her arms so that they covered her ample cleavage. “Please excuse me while I put these things away.”

“Of course.” He watched her leave the room. There was something familiar about her. Was it possible he’d met her somewhere before? Not likely. He’d never forget a woman that attractive. Yet, the way she held herself…the slight tilt to her head when she spoke… His brow furrowed in frustration. Who was she, and what was she doing here? He’d seen Alice only yesterday. She never mentioned going anywhere. Something odd was definitely going on.

A few minutes later, the girl returned, wearing stone-washed jeans and a lavender sweater. A price tag hung from her sleeve. “You forgot one,” he said, pointing to her arm.

She looked down and laughed. The sound was lovely…and familiar.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Her back stiffened. “I’m Ali—Ally. Alice’s niece.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his.

“Niece? That’s strange, she never mentioned a niece. As a matter of fact, she never mentioned any relatives at all.”

She plopped down on the sofa, crossed her long legs at the ankles, and peered up at him with huge innocent eyes. “I’m not surprised. My dad was always the black sheep. Aunt Alice hasn’t seen or spoken to him in years. So why would she mention me? I barely know her.”

“Back to my original question, what are you doing in her house?” Jack moved closer, resting his hand on the arm of the sofa. He wrinkled his nose. She smelled like a perfume factory. Had she put the whole bottle on?