When she looked back, Chantal had crossed the floor. She was laughing with Hunter, a long-fingered, sparkly-tipped hand lightly touching his shoulder for emphasis about something.

He didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by the touch, and an unwelcome spike of annoyance hit Sinclair. It wasn’t jealousy, she quickly assured herself. It was the fact that Chantal was ignoring the customers to flirt with the CEO.

Sinclair made her way along the counter.

“Chantal,” she greeted, putting a note of censure in her voice and her expression.

“I was just talking to Hunter about the new mousse,” Chantal trilled. Then she fluffed her hair. “It works miracles.”

Sinclair compressed her lips.

In response, Chantal’s gaze took in Sinclair’s plain hair-style. “You should…” She frowned. “Uh…have you tried it?”

Hunter inclined his head toward Sinclair. He seemed to be waiting for her answer.

“No,” Sinclair admitted. She hadn’t tired the new mousse. Like she had time for the Luscious Lavender treatment every morning. She started work at seven-thirty after a streamlined regime that rarely included a hairdryer.

“Oh.” Chantal pouted prettily.

Sinclair nodded to a pair of customers lingering around Chantal’s sample station. “I believe those two ladies need some help.”

Chantal giggled and moved away.

“Nice,” said Hunter after she left.

“That better have been sarcasm.”

All men considered Chantal beautiful, but Sinclair would have been disappointed in Hunter if he hadn’t been able to see past her looks.

“Of course it was sarcasm.” But his eyes lingered on the woman.

Sinclair elbowed him in the ribs.

“What?”

“I can tell what you’re thinking.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“What am I thinking?”

“That her breasts are large, her skirt is short, and her legs go all the way to the ground.”