The neutralizer in a home perm would work. I dashed to the desk and grabbed the bag of money for making change from the top left drawer, being careful not to disturb Ellie. She glanced at me then stuck her nose back in the magazine.
I moved away from the desk and opened the sack. My heart fell—only four dollars. I slapped my forehead. I’d run out of checks. I didn’t have time to drive to the drugstore, make the purchase, and wait for the cashier, Mandy Brown, to negotiate a credit transaction. She was so slow, not to mention how she jabbered during check-out. I shoved the money pouch back in the drawer.
Feeling faint, I dropped down in the chair at the shampoo bowl. I had to stop Ellie’s hair from curling. The beauty shop was all I had. It was my life! My stomach tied in knots at the thought of losing my customers. I’d lost Jordan, and I could no longer look forward to seeing Philip. Of course, not seeing Philip was for the best, but I couldn’t bear any more. I glanced at Ellie. She looked trusting and unassuming reading the periodical while the solution wreaked havoc on her hair. Tears lay heavy on my eyelashes.
The door slammed, and I flinched while Ellie looked up.
Philip stood there.
I nearly fell out of my chair.
Ellie’s lips spread into a grin as big as her wave.
Philip returned Ellie’s gesture, and she practically buried her face in the magazine as though she didn’t want to infringe on mine and Philip’s time together. What was he doing here?
My gaze locked with his as he wandered over to me. “You’re as white as snow. What’s wrong?”
In spite of everything I’d said about not wanting to go out with him, the sight of him and his caring tone comforted me like a cup of hot tea on a cold day. I got up and whispered in his ear. “I don-don-don’t have neutralizer for Ellie’s hair. I don’t have time to go to the drugstore.”
He gave me a hug. “How much does one cost?” He spoke in a soft tone.
“Less than twenty dollars.”
Philip pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket and flipped it open. “Write what you need on here.”
Fifteen minutes remained before I had to apply the neutralizer. It might work. I dabbed the tears from my eyes with my knuckle and did as he asked.
“No problem. I’ll get that old car going in a hurry to the drugstore. Stop crying, gorgeous. It’ll be all right.” He dashed out, the door banging behind him. The engine sputtered and rumbled out of the driveway. How fast would it go?
The soft ticks of the clock rang in my ears like gongs. Three minutes gone. My hands perspired. There shouldn’t be many people in the drugstore this time of day. I peered at the clock. Two more minutes had disappeared. What if Mandy wouldn’t stop talking at the checkout counter? Four additional minutes. Barely able to breathe, I paced back and forth in front of the hairdresser’s station.
Ellie stayed glued to her seat reading.
I glanced at the clock. Another four minutes passed. My heart thumped against my chest as I watched the second hand. Another minute lost—fourteen altogether. My heart sank.
Philip entered with a bag at his side.
I focused on Ellie. The magazine still covered her face.
“Here ya’ go.” Philip handed me the package.
I pulled out the neutralizer with a shaky hand, and he hurried toward the bathroom. In only seconds he’d deposit the container on the supply shelf out of sight. My hero. I tapped Ellie on the shoulder, and she flinched. “Time to neutralize your curls.”
My heart slowed to a near normal pace as she laid down the magazine, stood, and sauntered to the hairstylist chair.
Philip emerged from the storage area and joined us.
Ellie rose up slightly and shook hands with him. “Ellie Ringgold. It’s so nice to see you again. I don’t think Eve introduced us the other night at Bob’s Diner. I was sitting right in front of you.” Ellie got a mischievous look in her eyes. “Do you come by often to visit the restroom at Eve’s Clips?”
I wanted to cover my head with a towel, but at least her conversation gave me a few moments to settle my nerves.
Philip’s neck turned red. “Yes, well, no, I actually came to ask Eve to go out with me tonight.”
Ellie grabbed the neutralizer and dabbed it on her hair. “Don’t let me interfere with that.”
Philip probably thought I was desperate for a date, and that Triville had a shortage of men.
I snatched the solution from Ellie. “Actually, I think Philip dropped by to see if Mr. Jacobsen has called. Didn’t you?” I flashed him a harsh look.
His lips turned down as he shut his eyes halfway. He’d been so kind. How could I make him sad? I couldn’t, and I owed him big time for making the trip to the drugstore. “But if he wanted to ask me out I probably could go.” How weak I’d become over a bottle of neutralizer.
Ellie glared at me. “Of course, you could. What else are you doing on a Tuesday night in Triville?”
I wanted to crawl under the shampoo bowl. “Pete and Charlie are coming after my last appointment to put up drywall.”
“How about that rock outside your door only a few people in town know about? They could look under it.” Ellie laughed. “Thank goodness, we’re all honest.”
“Oh, right. I told them to check it.”
Philip grinned like a kid who’d just gotten his way. “I’ll come around seven o’clock. We’ll go wherever you like.”
Ellie smiled wide.
I finished her perm. A proper washing and styling, and she left with the soft, fluffy curls she wanted. I sat in the hairstylist chair and replayed the events in my mind. Somehow in a disaster involving neutralizer I’d ended up going out with the man I’d just broken up with. Whew! It seemed as long as Philip stayed in Triville he’d weasel his way into my life.
How about seeing each other as friends. If he agreed to no more hugging and kissing, that would work. He wouldn’t get too lonely between now and when Mr. Jacobsen called, and seeing him wouldn’t be as hard on my heart. He seemed oblivious to the pain our dating could cause, but surely he’d understand when I explained it.
9
Philip lay on his back on the bed with his hands clasped behind his head and gazed at the drab beige ceiling. The gloomy motel room matched his mood with the thick curtains shut tight and the lamp the only light turned on. He lived one day at a time taking care of whatever was right in front of him, but that wasn’t working for Eve and him.
He couldn’t count on getting his way as he did today. He needed to understand Eve’s concerns and address them. He only got inside women’s heads to figure out what they wanted in stock portfolios. This was so much more difficult, but he’d do it. Eve was worth it. The same restlessness and nerves-at-loose ends that plagued him in New York churned inside him without her in his life.
What motivated her to agree to go out with him again? Had he gotten that pitiable look he used to give his mom and dad as a teen when he wanted to take out the car? The same one Sarah Miles said he had when she agreed to partner with him in last year’s doubles at The Village Tennis Club. Margaret Neely accused him of looking helpless when she agreed to join him for the company picnic. It was more a habit than intentional, but apparently, it worked every time.
He didn’t want Eve to go out with him because of a pathetic expression. He wanted her to be happy with him. The mileage between them appeared to bother her most. Now that he’d stopped enjoying her company long enough to think about it, she was right. He didn’t like it either. He’d fix it. He had plenty of free sky miles. He could fly to Merchantville, rent a car, and drive the one and a-half-hour trip to Triville every week-end.
He bounded off the bed and headed to the sink to brush his teeth. Mr. Jacobsen could spend the rest of the month with his daughter as long as George continued to allow him to work from Triville, and why wouldn’t he? He wiped extra toothpaste off his face with the towel. This was the company’s most important deal right now, and no one needed one of the seminars George sent
him to conduct.
He proceeded to the shower stall whistling, the happy notes resounding over the splashing water. He got out and tugged on a pair of jeans and a shirt as soon as possible and left. He strolled outside into a mountain breeze cooling the warm evening and picked up his stride. In no time it seemed he was parking in front of Eve’s house and zipping past the dogwood tree on the way to the door. A blue pick-up sat in the driveway.
Pete and Charlie had arrived.
Thank goodness, they were handling repairs after her appointments, staying out of her hair. He smiled at his pun. He hoped they’d finish soon. The shop meant so much to Eve. He pressed the doorbell, and she answered. “Hi gorgeous.”
Her lips turned up slightly on the corners then broke into a big smile. “Hello. I’d like to stop by and see how Pete and Charlie are doing.”
“Sure.” He trekked to the shop with Eve, and they went inside.
“How’s it going?” Eve asked.
Pete held a drywall board. Charlie finished nailing it, and they turned around. “We’ll complete the putty tonight and sand it tomorrow,” Pete said.
“I sure appreciate it.” A hint of sadness lined Eve’s tone.
Philip lowered his head. Had she hoped for more progress? If he could go back and not crash into Eve’s shop, he would. But he probably wouldn’t have met her then. Maybe he’d have the car stall in front of Eve’s Clips, but he couldn’t do either. What was done was done. He and Eve proceeded to the car. “Where to?”
“Anywhere.” Eve’s voice lacked warmth, sounded matter-of-fact.
Maybe she was tired. She worked awfully hard in Eve’s Clips, and there’d been so much happening. “Have you eaten?”
“No. I just wasn’t hungry earlier.” Eve chuckled. “I’ll think of a place that’s not at the top of a hill.”
At least she still had a sense of humor about the old car. Maybe she was loosening up.
She clicked her fingers. “The Fish Barn. They serve trout caught in the stream beside the restaurant. Do you like trout?”
“I’m a fish lover.” She could have asked him if he liked nails, and he’d have said he did.
Eve leaned forward. “Turn right, and it’ll be on the right.”
Philip pulled into a dimly lit gravel lot in front of a rambling rustic, wooden building with a low roof and parked. The soft glow of the spotlight washed over trees, grass, and wildflowers lining the banks of the brook beside them. The cool, moist air from the clear-as-glass water tickled his nostrils as he helped Eve out of the car.
He put his arm around her waist, and the touch of her made his night sparkle on the way to the entrance. A hostess took them to a screened porch overlooking the river and laid paper menus on a picnic table. Philip couldn’t help but stare at Eve, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“The special is fried trout with French fries or a baked potato plus grilled zucchini.”
When had the waiter arrived? Philip directed his gaze toward him. “That sounds good. I’ll go with the baked potato.”
“I’ll have the same,” Eve said.
Philip searched her face. Was this the right moment to talk to her about visiting Triville after he finished his business here? The way his stomach knotted for wanting to get their relationship back on track he’d rather bring it up now than later. Then he could enjoy this much-discussed mountain trout. “I’ve been thinking about a plan to see you after I talk to Mr. Jacobsen and return home.”
“Really? I’ll be here, and you’ll be in New York.” She sounded distant, detached.
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“Long distance relationships don’t work very well, I’ve heard.”
Philip’s eye twitched. “How can you say that? I’m the one making an effort to ensure we see each other.” His stomach churned. He should have waited until after they ate.
Eve practically climbed across the table, her wide eyes blazing. “You’re the one leaving.”
He sat back in his seat and gestured with his palm up. “But I don’t live here.” Of course, he’d leave, but he wouldn’t cut her out of his life. He intended for their relationship to work. Why couldn’t she understand that?
“Right. That’s my point. Sometimes I think you simply don’t look life square in the face.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t see things as they really are.”
Surely she didn’t think he’d move to Triville. He’d offered to work part-time from the motel after he saw Mr. Jacobsen, but other than servicing that one account there was nothing in Triville for him businesswise. They were at an impasse. “You still don’t want to see me after tonight?” Sorrow choked him as he said the words, but he had to ask.
The waiter served two steaming plates with the aroma of fresh fish wafting from them.
Eve took hold of her fork and picked at the trout. “We could see each other as friends.”
Philip wrinkled his brow. What was she talking about? “I thought we were friends already.”
She twirled the fork in a circle, flakes of fish falling on her plate. “Yes, that’s right, but we don’t always act like friends.”
Philip nearly bent double. She might as well have hit him in the stomach with a board. “I’ve tried to be a good friend to you. I thought I was.”
“You’ve been the best of friends.” Her lips quivered as though she might burst into tears.
Had he said something right or wrong? “OK. In what way have I not acted like a friend?”
Eve bit her bottom lip and cast her gaze down. “All that kissing and hugging.”
His mouth flew open in shock. He snapped it shut. “I don’t understand.”
She looked up and glared at him. “It’s just a bit too much for someone I’m only going to see for a few more weeks.”
Had she not heard a word he’d said? “Eve, that’s what I’m telling you. I’m coming back to see you on the week-ends after I leave, and I’ll work here part-time occasionally. Didn’t you hear me?”
The people beside them and in front of them turned and stared. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken so loudly.
The dark-haired man to their right scooted to the edge of his chair, leaned over, and smirked. “Yeah, lady, give the guy a chance!”
Diners around Eve and Philip focused their gazes directly at Eve.
The man turned to face the thin woman with him and mumbled. “Is she hard-hearted or what?”
She knitted her blonde eyebrows. “Shhh, Andy. It’s none of your business.”
Philip couldn’t believe all the people eyeing Eve and him. “The guy’s right. You have to give us a chance,” he whispered.
Eve sat silent. Then she cracked a little smile. Had the man gotten to her?
“OK, we’ll see each other as friends by my definition until you leave. If you come back on the week-ends, we’ll see how it goes.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust me?”
“No, I don’t trust myself.”
She didn’t trust herself with him? She didn’t trust how she felt about him or their future? Whichever, he’d leave well enough alone. She would continue to see him. He was trying to get over being a spur-of-the-moment guy and think things through, but she needed to give him a break.
She smiled at him. “I’ll look forward to the week-ends.”
His word was good. His stomach settled down, and the trout melted in his mouth. Eve bit into her fish and scooped up bite after bite. Everything must be fine. “Thank you for suggesting this place.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She finished her baked potato.
“Dessert?”
“Oh, no. I’m stuffed.”
“Me, too.” Philip paid the waiter, and they meandered outside.
Crickets chirped breaking the silence of the still, quiet night as Philip and Eve got in the car. Philip headed toward the highway and then pulled onto the road leading to the shop, the damage he’d caused to it weighing heavy on his
mind. Yet that was only part of Eve’s problem. What was going on with those products? “I’ve been wondering how you ended up with faulty conditioner and why the neutralizer was missing from that box of stinky stuff. It seems a bit strange.”
“Not the permanents. It happened before. The company said it was a slip-up at the factory. The person who was supposed to add neutralizer to the packages probably didn’t do it.”
“What about quality control?”
“I don’t know much about production, but in this economy the company may have cut back,” Eve said as they pulled into her driveway.
The work truck was gone. Pete and Charlie must have finished for the evening.
Eve glanced at the shop as they proceeded toward her front door. “I guess they’ll show up tomorrow, at least for a while,” she said as the key clicked in the lock.
Philip followed her inside.
She sat in the easy chair then pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat.”
He raised his eyebrows. She wouldn’t sit next to him. He settled there, but this distance was only temporary. He’d see to that. “How did you solve the missing neutralizer situation before?”
“I noticed it right away and had plenty of cash on hand. I was able to go to the drugstore while the solution set my client’s curls. Later after I told the company about it, they sent me replacements for the kits I had on hand.”
Apparently, an honest mistake. “What about the conditioner?” Philip asked.
“It’s never happened before.” She said the word never real loud. “Beauty supply products make my shop special. Generally speaking, people who aren’t hairstylists can’t purchase them. Having anything go wrong with them makes me as angry as a wet cat.” She lowered her head. “I don’t want to buy a bottle of conditioner and a permanent from the drugstore to have in an emergency, but I will.”
“Good idea until we get to the bottom of this.” Sleep called Philip and he stood. “We’re not finished with your Just Right order yet.”
Hair Calamities and Hot Cash. Page 7
