What are you going to call the place?" "I haven't decided yet. Carrington wants to call it Clippety-Do-Da or Hairway to Heaven . . . but I told her we have to be a little bit classier." "Julius Scissors," I suggested. "Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow," Jack joined in. Liberty covered her ears. "I'll go out of business in the first week.

But I think if it's the right person, you wouldn't have to work so hard at intimacy. I think—hope—it would just happen naturally. Otherwise, opening up to the wrong person..." I made a face. "Like putting ammo in their hands.

Well, I find a strange comfort in the fact that he wouldn't feel this degree of animosity now, had he not loved me so much before.

Poor people have few choices in life, and most of the time you don't think too much about it. You get the best you can and do without when necessary, and hope to God you won't be wiped out by something you can't control. But there are moments it hurts, where there is something you want in the very marrow of your bones and you know there is no way you can have it.

It's a mistake, you know. You have no idea what you'll be exposed to...the obscenities and lewd comments, the lecherous gazes, the groping and pinching...and that's just my house. Imagine what it would be like here.

Easy, Marks,' he whispered. 'One of us has to have some self-control, and it really should be you.

To be honest," I halfwhispered, "I don't feel as safe with him as I do with you." "I know." A ghost of a smile touched my lips. "How do you know?" "Think about what safety is, Ella." "Trust?" "Yes, partly. But also an absence of risk." He unstuck a strand of hair from my damp cheek and tucked it back. "Maybe you need to take a risk. Maybe you need to be with someone who rattles you a little.