Before I started shopping, I walked by a hair salon. I backtracked when I saw a picture of a model with a short hairstyle that I thought might work for my face. I’d had floppy bangs and shoulder-length hair, more straight than curly, since I was a teen. Maybe it was time to get a more adult look. And if I had a brief thought that Chance would see me differently, too, I ignored it.
The hairstylist cooed over me like I was a pre-teen girl. “You really want me to cut all this off? It’s so cute.” I tried not to roll my eyes. She snapped her fingers. “Hey, I have an idea for something not so drastic. How about we try that first, and then if you don’t like it, I’ll cut it as short as you want? No extra charge.”
I shrugged at her in the mirror. “Do what you want.”
With a smile that had me almo
