From Now On: Atlanta Belles

by Raine English

  His mom kept him up-to-date on Whitney’s life, letting him know that she’d moved Atlanta Belles into a beautiful huge Victorian house in a prime area of Kirkwood. And most importantly, that Whit was still single, giving him that sliver of hope that he might be able to get her to forgive him.

  “We wanted to check in with you before heading out to look for office space,” Lee said, bringing Cash back to the present. The current Galloway location was temporary until they could find a suitable property to purchase.

  “Remember my uncle’s requirements: big, bold, and beautiful. Just be back by one to man the phones. I’ve got a haircut appointment.”

  “Thank goodness,” Sally said with a laugh. “I really wasn’t loving your new shaggy look.”

  “No? And I was just starting to get used to it.” He winked at her. “Find us a great home for Galloway Atlanta, will you?”

  “We’ll do our best.” Lee disappeared into one of the back offices and returned a minute later with a file folder tucked under his arm. “See you in a bit, boss,” he said on the way out the door.

  Cash popped open his laptop and began an online search of properties. He needed to keep busy until his appointment with Whitney. Otherwise, his nerves might get the best of him, and he’d wind up being a bumbling idiot when he saw her.

  * * * *

  “You’ve been a nervous Nellie all morning,” Dixie proclaimed while sweeping up the hair from around her station.

  Whitney didn’t even attempt to deny it. How could she? It was quite obvious from the way her hands shook while doing her clients’ hair. Why, she’d even clunked Shelley Daniels in the head with the blow dryer. Luckily, Shelley was a good sport and had assumed Whitney was just worried about Mattie being away at camp.

  She glanced at her watch and groaned. She had another hour to get through before Cash arrived. Time seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace. “I have ten minutes before my next appointment. Wanna take a quick break?”

  Dixie nodded, put the broom away, and then followed Whitney outside to the back porch. “Have you decided how to break the news to Cash?”

  She was caught off guard by Dixie’s question. “Break the news?”

  Dixie leaned against the porch railing and twisted her mouth in annoyance. “Tell him about Mattie.”

  Whitney stared wordlessly at her friend, her heart pounding. “No. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  Dixie shot her a look of utter disbelief. “You can’t seriously be thinking of not telling him?”

  Whitney shrugged, then quickly shifted her gaze out to the backyard.

  “You know I’m no fan of Cash after what he did, but that’s just crazy and wrong. I understood why you didn’t tell him when Mattie was a baby. Eve Galloway’s threats to ruin your business were a valid reason. You had to protect your livelihood. But you’re well established now, and I doubt anything she’d say could have much of an impact. Besides, think of Mattie. She’s growing up and deserves to know who her father is. If you miss this chance, you’ll come to regret it.”

  She puckered her lips with annoyance. Dixie wasn’t telling her anything that she didn’t already know. But how do you tell a man you haven’t spoken to in over seven years that he has a daughter? She did know one thing, though. She wasn’t about to do it in her salon on a busy Saturday afternoon. “I’m going to tell him, Dix. I just don’t know when or how.”

  “Well, if you want my suggestion, you need to do it before Mattie gets home from camp.”

  Whitney rubbed her hand over her face. “I know. The problem is that’s just a little more than a week away.”

  “It won’t get any easier the longer you put it off.”

  Whitney met her friend’s no-nonsense stare and took a deep breath. “I know that too. But today, I’m just taking it one step at a time, and that’s getting through his haircut.” With that said, she walked inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

  Dixie followed a few seconds later and rested her hand on Whitney’s shoulder before they headed into the cutting room. “I hope I didn’t come on too strong. You know I only want what’s best for you and Mattie. I’ve no doubt you’ll know when the time is right.”

  She offered up a little smile. “Thanks. Your opinion means a lot. You can be sure I’ll take your words to heart.” Whitney pushed open the French door and arrived at her station just as Bonnie, the shampoo girl, was getting her client draped in the chair.

  “Mrs. Wild, how are you today?” she asked, forcing herself to be cheerful, despite the sickening feeling that was settling in the bottom of her stomach.

  “I’m just fine, sweetie,” the elderly woman replied. “Looking forward to you working your magic on my hair.”

  “With all your gorgeous natural curl, there’s no magic required.” Whitney picked up her comb and shears and began trimming Mrs. Wild’s hair. Somehow she managed to get through the haircut without any mishaps and even avoided clunking her with the blow dryer.

  After the older woman left, Whitney quickly swept up her hair, then raced through the color room and into the employee bathroom. She adjusted her ponytail as she studied her reflection in the mirror above the sink. There was a smudge of mascara under her left eye that she took care of by dampening her pinky with water. Her lips were colorless and a little dry, so she took her tube of Pouty Pink lip gloss out of her pocket and swiped the wand over her lips, solving that problem as well.

  All of a sudden, her stomach churned, and she felt hot and clammy. For a brief, terrifying second, she thought she might be sick, but the feeling quickly passed. Get a grip! It won’t help a thing to have a panic attack.

  She took another quick look in the mirror, straightened her shirt, and then headed back to her station, expecting to find Cash seated there. She glanced over at the shampoo area, and he wasn’t there either. Could he have canceled at the last minute? Or maybe he never planned on coming at all. A million different scenarios began to fill her head, and she grabbed the back of her chair as a wave of dizziness washed over her.

  “You okay?” Dixie set down the curling iron that she’d been using on her client and studied Whitney. “Want me to get you some water?”

  “No, thanks. I’m okay.” Whitney ran the back of her hand across her forehead, feeling little beads of perspiration. She sucked in a giant gulp of much-needed air. Breathe. Just breathe. She knew without having to glance around the room that all eyes were on her. News traveled at lightning speed through Atlanta Belles, leaving no doubt that her entire staff was aware that Cash was the appointment she was waiting on.

  Whitney was just about to go over to the reception desk to see if he’d called when the French doors swung open and a swoon-worthy man wearing cowboy boots, tight jeans, and a white T-shirt strolled in behind Allie. She led him over to a shampoo bowl, and when his head was in the sink, Whitney and every other female in the room were free to openly stare.

  His long legs were stretched out in front of him, emphasizing his thighs and slim hips. Muscles rippled beneath his white shirt, leaving no doubt he still had an awesome six-pack. For a brief moment, Whitney wished she could trade places with Bonnie at the shampoo bowl, so she could run her fingers through his thick straight hair while giving him a scalp massage. But as quickly as the thought popped into her head, she pushed it away, realizing how ridiculous a thought it was. This was the man who’d broken her heart and hadn’t even attempted to call once over the past seven years. It would serve her well to remember that.

  Whitney turned her attention back to her station, taking her clippers out of the drawer and setting them alongside her shears. As she prepped, Bonnie led Cash over to her. Before he sat down, his marine-blue eyes held hers, and as had been the case when she was a schoolgirl, her knees turned to jelly. His ruggedly handsome face held an ageless strength, and he looked exactly as he had when he was twenty-four. His smooth olive skin stretched over high cheekbones. He had a generous mouth, an aquiline nose, and a square jaw that was vi
sibly tense. But when he said hello and then her name, there was a warmness to his tone she hadn’t expected. The years seemed to melt away, and it was as if she’d seen him just yesterday, and the rift between them had never existed. Foolish thinking to be sure! There was no going back. And why would she want to? She had a wonderful life, and letting Cash back into it could only result in heartache. But he was going to be a part of it, whether she liked it or not. He was Mattie’s father, and her little girl deserved to know him. The question was how big a role would he play in her life? And would he ever forgive Whitney for not telling him sooner?

  “Gorgeous as ever,” he said, jolting her back to the present.

  “It’s been a long time. What brings you here?”

  “My uncle decided to take Galloway Realty nationwide, and what better place to open an office than here?”

  She gritted her teeth. “I know. I heard that through the grapevine. I meant, what brings you to Atlanta Belles?”

  There were touches of humor around his mouth and eyes. “I need a haircut.”

  She was irked by his cool manner. “There are plenty of salons around.”

  “You’re still tough as nails. Always getting right to the point.”

  “What can I say? I’m a busy woman, so take a seat.”

  “Your receptionist said I was your last appointment,” he replied as he settled into the salon chair.

  She bit her bottom lip. Thanks a lot, Allie. “Even so, I still have a schedule to keep.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Dixie glaring at her, so she softened her tone. “Just a trim?” she asked, draping the cutting cape around his broad shoulders and getting a whiff of his irresistibly sexy cologne. She used to love to snuggle up close to him on the couch when they were watching TV and bury her nose in his neck to inhale that earthy male scent.

  “Remember how you used to cut it short and clippered up the back and sides? Only now I’d like the front kept longer.”

  “Got it.” The buzz of the clippers stalled their conversation, but not for long.

  “I don’t want to rehash the past, Whit, but it’s clear we need to talk.” He’d raised his voice to the level needed to be heard over the loud hum. “You meant a lot to me…still do…and we’re bound to run into each other, both being in business, so don’t you think it would be a good idea if when we do, we can at least be civil to each other?”

  “Are you saying that I’m not being civil?” Whitney’s blood pressure began to rise. It wouldn’t take much for her hand to slip and for her to take a chunk out of his hair.

  “Hey, I didn’t come here to make things worse between us.”

  “There’s nothing between us, good, bad, or in between,” she snapped.

  “I know. And I’d like to change that, if you’ll let me.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?”

  “Have dinner with me tonight.” Whitney had turned off the clippers just as Cash was answering, so his voice boomed throughout the salon.

  Her face heated, knowing that all eyes were on them. She glanced to the left and spotted Dixie.

  “What are you waiting for? Say yes,” her friend nudged.

  When Whitney hesitated further, the other stylists chimed in and began to chant, “Say yes, say yes, say yes,” and before she knew it, all the clients had joined the plea.

  Beyond embarrassed, she had no choice but to give in. “Okay, okay. It’s a yes. I’ll have dinner with you, but only if I get to pick the restaurant.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Cheers and applause erupted, and she let everyone have their fun for a few minutes before saying, “Enough. Back to work.” Even though she tried to sound stern, she couldn’t hide the smile that had formed on her lips. These people were like family, and she loved every one of them. How could she possibly have said no to Cash when they were pushing her to say yes? She just hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

  * * * *

  Cash had assumed it would be a lot more difficult to convince Whitney to have dinner with him, but then he hadn’t expected to get help from the entire salon. And he had Dixie to thank for that. He wondered why the outspoken redhead had wanted Whitney to say yes. Not that he didn’t appreciate her persuasion, but after his big blow-up with Whit, Dixie had come to see him, and she hadn’t minced words about her feelings toward him. To say that she was upset that he’d broken off his engagement to her best friend was an understatement. So why this change of heart? He glanced over at her, but her attention was totally on her client. Maybe time had mellowed her. Whatever it was, was immaterial. He was just thankful that she’d changed her opinion, and now that tonight’s dinner plans were out of the way, he could relax and enjoy his haircut.

  He’d always loved it when Whitney messed with his hair, and today was no exception. The slightest touch from her sent a smoldering flame through his body.

  He studied her reflection in the huge mirror above the station. His gaze was riveted on her face—she hadn’t changed a bit—then it fell to the creamy expanse of her neck and chest, and he dreamed of wrapping her in his embrace.

  All those years in New York, he’d tried to forget her, dated lots of women, but none had interested him. She radiated a vitality that drew him to her like a magnet, and he’d come to realize a long time ago that she was the only woman he’d ever love. If things didn’t work between them this time, he was destined to remain single.

  His gaze traveled up, and when it reached her eyes, they were focused on his with a bold assessing stare.

  “So what do you think? Too long on top?” She picked up a tube of hair gel and squirted some in her hands, then worked it through his hair.

  “It’s perfect. Exactly what I had in mind. But I’m not surprised. No one’s been able to cut my hair as well as you.”

  Her flawless milky complexion turned pink with embarrassment, and she quickly looked away as she removed the haircutting cape from his shoulders. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating, but thanks. I’ll take the compliment.”

  “As you should. You’ve done really well for yourself, Whit.” He glanced around the room with its elegant décor and added, “This place is gorgeous. Quite a step up from the little two-station salon you started with.”

  “I can’t complain. It’s a lot of work, but worth it.”

  “I know what you mean. It took lots of sixteen hour days to get my uncle to give me my own office.” His eyes again locked with hers, and this time something intense seemed to flare between them. “Have you decided where you’d like to eat?”

  “If you’re in the mood for some seared sea scallops, I sure could go for Ahi tuna.” A gleam of excitement brightened her eyes.

  “Yes! Wahoo! Grill.” It had been one of their favorite restaurants back when they were together and had fantastic seafood.

  After she swept the hair up from around the chair, he stood. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

  “That works,” she said as she walked him from the cutting room to the reception desk. As he took his wallet out of his back pocket, the front door opened and a tall, sinewy man with sandy-blond hair and a deep tan walked over to them.

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better, Whit. I’ve got your proofs. Thought I could show them to you over dinner.”

  “I’m sorry, Travis. I’ve already got plans.”

  The disappointment on his face was evident. He shifted his gaze over to Cash and lifted a brow as if wondering whether Cash was her dinner date.

  She twisted her hands in the front of her shirt. “I’m sorry, Travis, I don’t mean to be rude. This is Cash Galloway,” she went on to say awkwardly. “And Cash, this is Travis Holt. A fabulous photographer and a good friend of mine.”

  Both brows shot up now, and Travis’s disappointment turned to anger. “I see,” he grumbled. “I would’ve described you as more than a good friend. But I guess when the ex is back in town, everything changes.” He stormed over to the door, but before leaving said over his shoulder, “I’ll email
you the proofs.”

  “Travis, don’t be angry.” But it was too late. He was already gone. She turned to Cash. “I might have mentioned you to him once or twice.”

  “Yeah, that was pretty uncomfortable.”

  She twisted her mouth. “He’s a good guy too.”

  Cash reached into his wallet, pulled out a hundred dollar bill, and handed it to Allie. When she went to give him change, he winked and said, “Give that to your boss.” Then to Whitney, “You live upstairs, right?”

  “Have you been checking up on me?”

  He grinned. “My mom told me.”

  “Of course. Eve knows everything that goes on in town.”

  He was surprised by the negative tone of her voice. Whit and his mom had always gotten along well. Maybe things had soured because of the breakup. Whatever the cause, that was just one more to add to his list of things to fix.

  Chapter 3

  It wasn’t long after Cash left that the rest of her staff finished their last appointments and then cleaned up their work areas.

  As usual, Dixie was the last to leave. “I hate to say it, but I think Cash is hotter looking now than he was before.”

  Whitney rolled her eyes.

  “With that said,” Dixie went on, “I’m so glad you two are having dinner tonight. Try to put the past behind you, for the good of Mattie, and see if you can develop some kind of relationship with him.”

  Whitney nodded. “I know. That’s what I hope to do. I’m going to try really hard to focus on the positive. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing that Cash is back.”