rel="nofollow" href="#u0516aaf1-8c4f-5472-a0d8-e02b1054ce82">5.
Sabrina was in her uniform. That’s why they didn’t let her into the hotel bar where she was meant to be going on her date with Luis Armando. She would have liked to go for a drink, or for him to take her to a restaurant, or at least to go for a walk. But he insisted on seeing her in his room.
‘I can’t wait to cover you in kisses,’ he said.
And that phrase was enough for Sabrina to feel her heartbeat quicken.
‘Do you love me?’ he asked in the voice that often murmured over the telephone how much he wanted her.
‘A lot,’ Sabrina said, turning red. It was the first time a man other than her father had asked.
When she went up to his room, she saw that Luis Armando was drunk. She was drunk, too, from the brandies she tossed back earlier so that she could bear the pain of the waxing. If she’d been sober, perhaps she would have reacted faster. But she wasn’t. She realised that coming here hadn’t been a good idea. Nevertheless, instead of leaving, she stared into his eyes, searching for the spark of love she thought she’d detected in them once. She was ready to become a woman.
When she left her boss’s office, Karen felt the women’s eyes on her. The three in the eyelashes section looked up from the faces before them and scrutinised her. Even the woman distributing coffees turned to stare. Karen imagined that if they didn’t have clients right then, they would interrogate her. What was it? Did all of them know that Sabrina Guzmán had died, and that she’d been Karen’s client?
She went downstairs to give Susana her jacket before she went back to her cubicle. Susana was immersed in whatever she was typing into her phone, which she hid as soon as she saw Karen.
‘Thank you,’ Karen said, handing her the jacket.
‘No problem, gorgeous,’ Susana said with a smile.
Karen noticed the handbag at her feet and wondered if it was original.
‘Yes, it’s real,’ said Susana, who apparently had the power to read minds.
‘It’s lovely.’
‘Thank you, gorgeous!’ said Susana. ‘You seem nice. Save my number, you never know when you might need a friend. There are some green-eyed, catty little minxes round here – they’ve been known to get their claws out,’ she added in an almost whisper.
Susana got out her phone to call Karen and, while she typed in her number, Karen noticed she had the latest iPhone. A tablet was peeking from her handbag.
‘Why do you bring that handbag to work, to make them jealous?’ asked Karen.
‘Yes, that too.’
Annie interrupted to tell Karen her next client had arrived.
‘Don’t you worry about the minxes,’ said Karen. It was the first time she’d used that word to refer to their House of Beauty colleagues. ‘They’d never have the money for a tablet like that.’
‘Oh, gorgeous,’ said Susana, ‘It’s so obvious you’re new. If they had to stop eating they would, if it meant they didn’t have to miss out. Anyway, if you ever need a lend of the handbag, or some clothes, just let me know.’
Karen went up to the second floor thinking that Susana seemed like a good person. Once in the cubicle, she lit the wax warmer. There were two knocks at the door. Before opening up, she called Annie at reception and asked who to expect.
‘You really don’t know?’ she answered on the other end before hanging up.
Fortunately, Karen remembered her name when the door opened. Even if she hadn’t seen her before, she would have recognised her from the celebrity news, which she presented in the evenings.
Karen admired the TV presenter. She had put out of her mind that she’d treated her badly on two or three previous occasions. She was even more beautiful in real life than she was on TV. Karen loved her straight hair.
‘Doña Karen, how is life treating you?’ Karen asked cheerfully.
Doña Karen didn’t hear her, or didn’t want to answer.
‘You can pop your clothes on this chair, I’ll leave you a moment so you can change. Are you here today for a bikini wax? Do you need the disposable briefs?’
‘No, only legs and underarms.’
‘All right, Doña Karen, in that case you can leave your underwear on. I’ll be with you in just a moment. Would you like a coffee? Or a herbal tea?’
‘A herbal tea would be nice.’
She requested a herbal tea to cubicle 3, then searched the cupboard for an electric blanket. There it was. If anything from the central closet went missing, everyone’s pay was docked. She returned to the cubicle where Doña Karen was lying on the treatment table. Doña Karen was thirty years old and had been coming to House of Beauty for years. Another worker had always looked after her, until one day Doña Karen’s phone went missing and the worker was dismissed, even though there was no proof or inquiry. That’s how twenty years at House of Beauty had ended for Karen’s predecessor, and how the crown jewel had been placed in Karen’s hands.
‘Karen’s your name, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Señora.’
‘It’s a bit uncomfortable for me, the two of us having the same name, you know?’
‘How so, Señora?’
‘Drop the “Señora”, I’m not married. Let’s see. How can I get across that we can’t have the same name? Should I draw a diagram? “Hello, Karen, how are you?” “Fine, and you, Karen?” “Fine, Karen.” Get what I’m saying, now?’ said Doña Karen while Karen passed a tissue daubed with cleansing cream over her skin.
‘Would you like a numbing cream, or will you be fine just like that?’ asked Karen.
‘But are you listening to what I’m saying?’ said Doña Karen, irritated. ‘You’ve got to have a middle name, right? Or can I give you a nickname?’
‘If you like, Doña Karen. I don’t have a middle name.’
‘Is the concept really so difficult for you to grasp?’
As she dusted Doña Karen’s calves with talcum powder, Karen took the wooden spatula and tested the temperature of the wax on the back of her left hand. Doing this always reminded her of testing Emiliano’s bottles to make sure they weren’t too hot. She thought Doña Karen must be having a bad day. After all, it couldn’t be easy being famous. No doubt people hounded her on the street asking for autographs, and it had to be tiring being on everyone’s lips. She used the spatula to spread wax over Doña Karen’s legs up to the knees. Then she cut a strip of cloth, which she pressed against her skin before ripping it off in one go. Her client let out a whimper.
Karen remembered the time a client at another salon filmed Doña Karen making a scene during a pedicure because they’d cut a toenail too short. It was rumoured this was why no one could have phones inside the cubicles, so workers couldn’t take photos or videos of clients that might lead to House of Beauty facing a lawsuit.
‘We’ll be finished in a sec. Would you like the blanket?’
Doña Karen nodded.
‘Now we’ll move on to underarms, and then we’ll be done,’ said Karen, softly massaging aloe vera into her legs.
Karen thought that whoever had secretly filmed the video was a bad person. It wasn’t right to benefit from others’ misfortune, she told herself as she admired the smoothness of Doña Karen’s skin.
‘I