Scott and I hardly speak to each other when we get back. He has a hard time looking at me, let alone being my friend. If I go into a room he would see me, turn around and leave, unless it is work related. I started feeling the loss, breaking my spirits during what is supposed to be an exciting time in my life: newly engaged, amazing job. Surprisingly, I find myself missing Scott like crazy. I decide to treat myself to a complete makeover now that my financial situation is stabilized and I have furniture. I want to look the part of my newfound position at the Association. Soon, the camera’s will be on us 24/7 and I have no choice but look good all the time.
Luckily, when it comes time to fly in, Scott ends up being booked on a different flight altogether. Mrs. Abigail reschedules his flight for a day later. His mother has a final treatment and he wants to be there for her. I feel so sorry for Scott, it has to break his heart that he has to leave her in her time of need even though she is seeing someone new now. My mother has chosen to forgive her for the affair she had with my father and plans to move in with them and care for her while Scott is gone.
I do a Google search for stylists before I leave for Owerri and make an appointment with the top one for after I land. My last makeover in Lagos was a bit extreme, and I figure Owerri would probably be a little more conservative. I have an hour and forty-five minutes to check in at the hotel and be there for my appointment. It’s ten minutes after two, but they said they will still take me.
The salon is fancy decorated in Gala decor, with a Starbucks right outside the front door. The receptionist has to be in her twenties with long blond hair and a purple streak running down her bangs. She gestures for me to follow her, “Would you like to follow me please. Gerard will be with you soon.”
I wait for Gerard who looks at me as though he is seeing a new species for the first time. He starts pulling hair away from my head, “What would you like? It has natural highlights. It doesn’t need z colour!”
“I don’t know. I need to look professional. What do you think?”
I’m expecting him to send me to the sink, but instead he looks like he is thinking while he starts brushing my hair vigorously. He ties it up in a ponytail without telling me his intentions, I flash back to all those reality shows Anna and I used to watch, makeovers. I think, there’s no way he’s going, “You’re not!”
“I am! Say good-bye!”
“Wait!”
He rolls his eyes, “You said you want to look professional, is this right?”
“Yes but...”
SNIP, SNIP, SNIP, I feel the cold scissors touching the nape of my neck before I have a chance to respond. I cringe as I feel him chopping off all my length. What used to land in the middle of my back now is lucky to touch below my chin. There is no fucking around with this stylist. He has to be a professional! Perfect for the show, I think wiping my tears of self pity away. It’s going to take forever to grow it back.
My hair is trimmed and the friction against the scissors creates a tugging sensation, giving me goosebumps on the back of my neck. I can’t look anymore. Aren’t makeovers supposed to be fun? Gerard thins out my hair with thinning shears and then cuts what was left into wisps reaching my chin and framing my face. The initial shock takes a long time to recover from but after that, I am delightfully surprised.
The makeup artist at the salon works on my face. She brings out my eyes and made my lips more full. Between the makeup artist and the new cut, I look ten years younger. I can easily be confused for one of the competitors at the camp instead of someone running it. I can’t wait to see Michael’s reaction! He has suggested in the past that I cut it.
We had everyone's flights arrive in Owerri, Owerri on the same day. Scott meets the guests and sends them up with a limo to the Village and a welcome goodie bag. The camera crew records the contestants disembarking while studio staff are planting cameras throughout the Village, including the arena. Skating sessions will be televised with the same method used for competitions.
At last, the guests arrive at the Village. My excitement for this moment hardly feels containable. I show the hopefuls to their rooms and inform them of the meeting in the boardroom at 9:00 p.m., followed by a wine and cheese party. Michael instructs Scott and I to observe how the competitors and coaches interact with one another and report back to him.
When 8:45 p.m. rolls around, I know Scott and the last coach will be arriving. I hightail it to my room to get ready for the evening events. I chose to wear a cute sailor dress I picked up in Yorkville the previous summer. I spray on perfume and freshen up my makeup. When I’m satisfied, I stop and look in the mirror. That is the best I can do. I grab my handbag and speech and head down to the lounge next to the boardroom at 9:00. The lounge was set up with sofas scattered throughout the room and framed pictures of the athletes from last year's photos on the walls. Wine bottles and long-stemmed wine glasses are set up on a table and a volunteer is posted to serve the coaches and athletes. A cheese and cracker table are also set up. Everything we requested is ready and looked good. I decide it was time to go to the boardroom and turn to leave.
Scott stands in the doorway. “Everyone is present. You can start whenever you want.” He must have been watching me. When I hear his voice it startles me.
I peer into his eyes; they looked tired and forlorn. His mother must be doing very poorly. He wears a black Hugo Boss that barely contains him. Our divorce or keeping distance from me with the exception of the sadness I see in his eyes, must be working for him.
“Thanks,” I say, starting for the boardroom. Scott turns sideways allowing me to pass. I savour his familiar scent as our bodies touch for the first time in weeks. Scott follows me in. The seats at both ends of the table are earmarked for Scott and me. The coaches stand and the athletes sit on either side of the table.
"So glad everyone could make it. Thanks for coming. This is truly an exciting undertaking. I am Isabella Moyes. You might recall from your invitation that I’m going to be your go-to person. With me today is your other go-to guy, Scott Brandon. You, however, are the real stars, so I'd like each of you to introduce yourselves. Tell us a little bit of your background and why you decided to come. We'll hear from the skaters first and then the coaches."
After everyone has a chance to speak, I’m able to provide more of the day- to-day basics, “Your schedules, itineraries, and contracts that were drawn up have been placed in the desks in your individual rooms. We will give you the full day tomorrow to review the paperwork before signing. Please read it carefully. They can be returned either to Scott or myself by 9:00 tomorrow night.” I looked around the room into the faces of our guests. “As I mentioned, Scott is your go-to guy for any concerns or problems you come across during your stay at our training camp.”
"I will be running the show and working closely with Global Television. The first two weeks of the camp are slated for creating promotions and rest for the athletes before training starts two weeks from today. Scott and I will be around the Village all day tomorrow to answer any questions you may have.”
I look over at Scott and ask, “Did you have anything you want to add?” There is an awkward silence in the room as everyone gawks at our interactions with each other. The skating world is small, and the Brandon’s divorce is common knowledge. Scott smiles back at me but it never reaches his eyes, I can see the hidden bitterness towards me, “Nope, you said and did it all. Let’s start the wine and cheese party!” Scott rises from the table and everyone follows him to the lounge.