Specialist In Love. Sharon Kendrick
she thought cautiously, as she considered his question.
‘I haven’t been, up until now,’ she explained. ‘My last job didn’t exactly encourage it.’
‘Your last job being. . .?’ he probed.
She was half inclined to tell him that he was now indulging in idle gossip, but on second thoughts. . .!
‘I worked at Maxwells,’ she told him.
‘Maxwells? The department store in town?’ He sounded surprised.
‘The very same!’
‘But not as a shop assistant, surely?’
She laughed. ‘A glorified shop assistant. My official title was “beautician”.’
‘Beautician?’ He had obviously never heard the word before. ‘And what does a beautician do, pray?’
‘She gets women to spend far too much money on make-up, that’s what!’
A shaft of sunlight speared through a dispersing storm cloud, giving his eyes the appearance of the silvery mercury she’d once played with in a long-distant science lesson.
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