Fifteen Candles (11 page)

Ignoring Karina, Sarita finally turned to Alicia. “Can we talk for a minute, alone?” she asked.

Alicia nodded, and they walked to the side of the store.

“I'm only going to have one
quince
, and you nearly ruined it,” Sarita said. “How can I trust you again?”

A pained expression came over Alicia's face. “I know, I know, it was bad. I'm sorry.”

Sarita's eyes flashed. “
Sorry
didn't do it,
you
did.”

Alicia grimaced. The past few days had taught her at least one thing—making amends was hard. She took a deep breath and said, “It's because I want you to have the best
quince
ever that I went so crazy,” she began. “Honestly, I never knew how many decisions went into every single little bit of it, from the dress to the food to the choreography to the location. Somehow, in trying to keep all the details straight, I lost sight of the most important thing. It's
your
decision. It's
your
quince
. At the end of the day, I work for
you
. And I really, really would love to work for you.”

Sarita didn't say anything for what felt like forever. Then she extended her hand for Alicia to shake.

“One more chance,” Sarita said.

Alicia thought she might cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She reached out to give Sarita a hug, but the girl pulled back.

“No hugging until you figure out what to do about my hair.”

“We'll call Jamie,” Alicia said. “Jamie will know exactly what to do.”

THE GIRLS
—Alicia, Sarita, Jamie, and Carmen—were walking down Collins Avenue to a salon so exclusive that it didn't even have a sign, just a jet black door with a shiny silver handle in the center of it. Gaz had bowed out of the mission, once again reminding them, “I'm a guy.” It didn't matter. For this, they didn't need him.

Reaching to open the door, Jamie paused and turned to Alicia. “You are so lucky I accepted your apology,” she said. “This is going to blow your mind.”

The new, humble Alicia took this in stride. “I can't really defend myself, but before you say anything else, just think of all the junk I've taken from you and how I've gotten past it!” Smiling, she pushed past Jamie, and they entered the salon.

The reception area was covered with silver wallpaper, and the chairs were silver, too, with purple velvet cushions. Behind a high desk, a tall, skinny girl with Tyra bangs and bottle green eyes looked them up and down.

“And you are here to see…?” she asked. Alicia couldn't help noticing how a British accent could make you seem snotty, even if you weren't.

“El Vez,” Jamie replied.

“Third floor,” the girl said, looking impressed in spite of herself.

They piled into the elevator, trying to play it cool. But the minute the elevator doors closed, they all burst out giggling.

“Does he really do Christina Aguilera's hair?” Sarita asked when they'd stopped laughing.

“Yes, he does,” Jamie said.

“And he's going to do my hair for free?”

“Yep,” Jamie said. “El Vez and my cousin Anton used to be roommates on the Lower East Side. Back when he was just starting out, my cousin—he's a manager at this store called Jeffrey now—got El Vez his first gig doing Chloë Sevigny's hair for a movie premiere. He comes to South Beach for one week every month. He's always offering to hook me up, as a favor to my cousin. But as you can see, there's nothing a professional can do for me that I can't do for myself.”

Jamie was completely right—if not modest.

“I'm a little nervous,” Sarita said, as the elevator doors opened and they walked into the sunny loft space.

“Don't be,” Alicia said. “We've got our inspiration photo, and this time we're all on the same page.”

“What's that actress's name again?” Carmen asked, looking at the picture.

“Catherine Deneuve,” said Sarita. “From
Umbrellas of
Cherbourg
. It's one of my mom's and my favorite movies.”

“But it's not going to be blond, right?” Alicia said.

Just then, El Vez walked up to them. “Blond, no. Not on a beautiful
morena
like you,” he said, kissing Sarita's hand. “You must be Sarita. Jamie e-mailed me a picture of you. But it doesn't do you justice. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a young Salma Hayek?”

Sarita turned bright red. “Get out!” she squealed.

El Vez just laughed. He was tall and thin with a mop of hair that looked like Shaggy's from
Scooby-Doo
, if Shaggy had had his hair precision-cut and rocked a very neat goatee, that is.

“Jamie, my love,” he said, giving his old friend a kiss on both cheeks.

“Be careful with him,” Jamie warned the group. “He's a massive flirt.”

“I don't mind!” Sarita said.

“But I bet Diego, your
chambelane
, would,” Alicia said. “Does he still hate me? Have I traumatized him for life about your dance number?”

“Nah,” Sarita said. “He doesn't scare that easy.”

Alicia smiled and introduced herself and Carmen to El Vez.

“Mucho gusto,”
El Vez said. “Okay, let's get down to business, because extensions take time. I understand you have an inspiration photo.”

“I do,” Sarita said. “The French actress Catherine Deneuve—”

“From
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg
.” El Vez and Sarita said the movie title at the same time, gazing at the photo with the same adoration.

“A girl who loves old movies! We're going to get along just fine,” El Vez said, taking Sarita's hand. He then turned to assess the group. “There are too many cooks in this kitchen. Who's staying, and who's
going
?”

“
I'm
going,” Jamie said. “There's a consignment shop in Hallandale where they are holding a pair of high-heeled Timberlands for me. I think they might be perfect for Sarita's opening dance. You're a size six, right?”

“Right,” said Sarita.

“And I've got to go to a costume shop in the Gables to see if I can find some mariachi outfits for Gaz's band,” said Carmen.

“I'll hang out a little bit,” Alicia said. “How about we all meet back at my place around five?”

“Sounds good,” Carmen said.

“It's a plan,” Jamie agreed.

As she watched her friends leave, Alicia couldn't help feeling lucky that she and her girls were back on speaking terms again. Things were moving much more smoothly now.

As Sarita and Alicia peppered El Vez with questions about being on tour with Christina Aguilera, he got to work on Sarita's hair.

“Is she nice?” Sarita wanted to know.

“Does she really have such beautiful skin?” asked Alicia. She'd had a really bad case of eczema in the fifth grade and had been obsessed with skin care ever since.

“Is she really blond?” asked Sarita.

“Does she sing while you do her hair?” Alicia wondered.

El Vez smiled slyly. “You know what they say. A gentleman never tells.”

He went on to explain that the extensions he was using were of the best quality and should last six to eight weeks.

Sarita did a little jump for joy. “That means I'll still be rocking them when school starts. Talk about more bounce to the diva ounce.”

As Sarita and El Vez continued to chat, Alicia carefully studied the checklist in her folder. It never hurt to be prepared.

Beach permit
—

Band
—

Mariachi music and costumes for Gaz
—

Sarita's dress
—

Sarita's heels
— coming

Damas' dresses
—

Chambelanes' suits
—

Sets
—

Church ceremony
—