Page 17 of Making Over Maris

She stewed for about an hour—studiously ignoring the emails that had accumulated while she’d been gone—and then decided to take the bull by the horns. It was time to end this. And collect her trip.

She stormed to the lab and glowered at all the interns until they scattered. Then she rounded on Jack, who was sitting at his desk—bouncing on a large orange ball, for God’s sake—and frowned. She slammed the door so hard the walls shook. “You need to shave.” She didn’t intend to be so blunt.

Okay. Maybe she did.

His beard annoyed the crap out of her. No woman would want to kiss a face felted in that wiry mass. How could he not see that?

“What?” Panic flared in his eyes.

Sara ignored it. Fisted her hands on her hips. “Jack. The beard has got to go.”

He fingered the scraggly strands. “How about I just trim it down?”

“No.”

“Sara—”

“Shave it.” God, it felt good. To bark a command.

“I can’t.”

She glared at him, disliking the guilt swirling in her belly. Had she secretly hoped he would refuse? Was that why she’d picked something she knew he would balk at? He’d had that beard forever. Even in high school. She’d known—known—he’d say no.

Good. She should be glad he said no.

According to their agreement she would provide guidance. And even if he refused to follow her prescription, he had to pay up.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Then we’re through. And you still owe me a trip to Paris. Book it now.” She spun away.

Facing him meant acknowledging the truth—she’d failed him.

“Wait. Sara.”

She slowed. Closed her eyes. Oh God. The hint of desperation in his voice rendered her mute.

“It’s…well…the beard is kind of my ‘thing’.”

She sighed and turned back to him. Tried not to wince at his expression. “It’s been a shield, Jack. Do you think no one knows you hide behind it?”

He bristled. “I do not.”

“You do.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Shave it.”

He put out a lip. She could see the wheels turning. “What about a Van Dyke?”

Something odd shot through her. Oh. She did like a Van Dyke, the sexy way the moustache and goatee framed a man’s mouth… It made even the most mild-mannered man seem naughty. Maybe other women felt the same. “Okay. We’ll try that.”

He nearly collapsed at the reprieve.

So did she.

The relief surprised her. She had fully expected to end this debacle today but she was glad—oddly delighted—it wasn’t over. Still…

“Book the trip, Jack. I want the tickets in my hand ASAP.”

Jack spent the next half hour researching travel options to Paris. It was a bit of a struggle because he’d never researched travel options to anywhere before. Airline websites, he discovered, were terribly inscrutable. Definitely not user-friendly.

It was a pity Sara couldn’t take a train to Paris.