"Oh, a process." Dominique took several smalls steps towards the desk chair and sat down, looking at her brother expectantly. "Do your worst, little brother."
She trusted Louis. He would make her look good. For all his airs, he would help her because she asked him to. Besides, she knew he liked to fuss about her and she was happy to let him do it every once and awhile. Eventually she'd probably give in and let him tag along while she went shopping. He was forever begging her to get a makeover and do something with her hair.
Her hair was perfectly fine, alright. A ponytail as a perfectly acceptable hairstyle, especially for one who was a bar wench, which was a fun way to say waitress and sometimes bartender.