by Fiona Archer
Brothers. Who’d have them?
“Obviously if that happens, you two will be the first I call to commiserate.” Heath shook his head. “In the meantime, share with me what you know as fact in this journal.” Today was his day off, but with so many resources tied into Fox’s investigation, he and Derek were on call. The women would take what...four, maybe five hours before they wrapped things up at Jinx’s salon. He wanted to get back to the café before they went home. Time to press for an advantage. London was his target, surprise his weapon.
And Heath was known for his deadly aim.
****
London scanned the inner sanctum of Jinx Malone’s salon. A crystal chandelier shone down on a tres chic jade velvet loveseat complete with gold metal edging.
London’s gaze had been drawn to the gorgeous furniture all day.
Seriously, Jinx did glamour like no one else London had ever met.
Right now, though, it was judgment time. London bit her lip as Jinx stepped back and assessed her with a professional eye.
Finally, after what seemed an age, the stylist declared, “Definitely this one. Indigo is your color.”
“I agree.” Harper lifted her glass of wine as if making a toast.
“Me too.” Cleo followed suit with her wine.
Hallelujah!
London sagged in relief. What had it been, two hours on her outfit? As she glanced at herself in the full-length mirror, she had to agree with Jinx’s choice. The top with full-length sleeves had a deep V-neckline, and the silky material gathered at the sides provided a flattering detail over her belly. The black skirt with a long slit up the side was more daring than she’d usually wear, and certainly was slimming and gave her shape.
“I love this outfit.” London stared at her reflection before glancing back at Jinx. “Are you sure about loaning me the top?”
Jinx rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.” She moved to stand behind London and gazed toward the mirror. “With your pale skin and gorgeous copper hair, you have to be careful to find a look that complements both elements.” Narrowing her gaze, she studied London. “Blues, greens, purples, and warm neutrals. Those all work for you. Avoid yellow and orange.”
“What about her hair? Up or down?” Harper leaned forward from her place on the loveseat.
“She’ll be sitting down most of the time signing books, so normally, I’d suggest put it up to add length to her neck, but her hair’s so thick”—Jinx ran her hands through London’s wavy strands, which fell to mid-way down her back—“I’m thinking we leave it down and show off the fullness. Think Charlie’s Angels ’70s goddess. We can use a lightweight styling product without killing the ozone with hairspray.”
“I like doing my bit for the environment.” London grinned, also thankful she wouldn’t have to de-gunk her hair with five washes the next day.
Jinx grinned and guided London to a barber’s chair upholstered in a gorgeous shade of jade green. In front of the chair was a marble counter topped with a mirror edged with lights. “Now we get to have some serious fun.” She gently pressed London into the chair and began opening drawers, which were divided into smaller compartments and filled with makeup of every shade and description. “Harper, bring the bubbly. Cleo, grab those mini quiches Abby delivered. We need sustenance.”
The women did as instructed. In the back of her mind, London questioned whether a third glass of Champagne was a good idea. Maybe one more and then she’d restrict herself to Pellegrino for the rest of the day. Even then, with her slow metabolism, she’d likely need to get a taxi home.
Jinx used large clips to sweep London’s hair away from her face. “I have all your books, except for the most recent. I’m saving that one for Wednesday night. I don’t know if Cleo told you, but I’m a super fan of your writing.”
London glanced over at her friend who faced away from the mirror, her backside against the marble counter. “She kept that to herself.”
Jinx, who had lined up five bottles of pale colored foundation, turned to Cleo. “You didn’t say?”
“I wanted what is about to come out of your mouth to be a surprise.” Cleo popped a mini quiche in her mouth and handed the plate to London, who did the same.
“Ah, I see.” Jinx began dabbing a small dot of foundation from each bottle on London’s face. “Since I qualify for super fan status, I’ve decided to give you this session free.”
London gasped. “I wasn’t expecting a freebie.” Jinx was the stylist to Seattle’s A-list. Cleo had hinted she’d negotiated a discount rate—the only reason London had been able to agree to today. But free?
Jinx’s face warmed with her smile. “I know.” She gently swept more foundation toward London’s jawline. “I’m excited to play a part in making your book signing special. And”—she broke off and wiped her fingers with a Kleenex—“you can sign my copies of your books.”
“It would be my pleasure.” A groundswell of happiness swept through London. “Thank you so much, Jinx.” What a generous act. She would make sure Jinx received a signed copy of her latest and any other books that followed.
“No worries.” The stylist tilted her head to the side and studied London’s face. “Hmm, I’m thinking ivory with pink undertones No. 1. The No. 2 is a smidge too dark.”
“Perfect match.” Harper declared as she joined Jinx and handed London her third glass of bubbly. “You skin is gorgeous, London. I’ve always wanted that translucent pale look.”
Seriously? London would kill for Harper’s sun-kissed skin tone.
“So what’s this new series about?” Jinx asked. She paused from dabbing on more foundation when London bit her lip. “Sorry, I guess it was rude of me to ask. You probably keep that stuff secret.”
London rushed to reassure her. “No, that’s not it.” She glanced at Cleo, who, well aware of London’s new project, gave her an encouraging smile. “I’m just…” Panicking? Scared shitless? “…nervous about this new series.”
“Are you each time you start a new book?”
“No.” She frowned. “Well, yes, although this time, it’s different.” Jinx and Harper didn’t push, and London could have hugged them for their understanding. Maybe it would be good to hear what others outside of her family and best friend thought? “I’m changing up my writing. Taking a break from YA.” She nearly stopped at Jinx’s raised eyebrow. Just say it. “I’m writing a murder suspense. Hoping to turn this into a new series.”
She waited as Jinx blinked, but it was Harper who broke the silence. “That’s so freaking cool.” The café owner dragged a swivel chair and sat down. “I love it when people take chances.”
“You do?” London couldn’t keep the hopefulness out of her voice.
“Sure.” Harper agreed. “Sometimes a girl has to take risks.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Life’s too short not to explore our dreams.” She leveled her steady gaze at London. “You’re nervous about this change? Why?”
London puffed out a breath. “Where do I start? My agent says it’s a mistake. My readers could abandon me if they hate the book…if they even give a new genre a try.”
“You’ve got to back yourself.” Jinx’s firm tone matched the way she straightened her posture. “The same way you believed you could get your first book published. This is no different.”
“But this is how I make my living. I have more to lose.” London reasoned.
“And even more to gain.” Jinx countered. “New readers. A new market. Feeling challenged and fulfilled.” Jinx lifted her flute of Champagne and sipped. “I worked in a dress shop for years and had a boss who knew nothing about fashion and styling telling me I was wrong every time I suggested something new for the store. I saved money, built my contacts on the side and slowly hired myself out in the few spare hours I had left each week. I’m proud I helped women feel good about themselves and gave a boost to their confidence, and at the same time, strengthened my own self-esteem. I could have quit my dream of on
e day working for myself a hundred times over, but then I would’ve been forced to look back and ask, What if?”
Cleo groaned. “The ‘what if’ scenario is my nightmare. I never want to be in that position if I can help it.”
Neither did London. Maybe she needed to follow Jinx’s advice. Back herself.
“My dad never believed in me.” Harper’s soft whisper cut through the room as she gazed unseeing across the space. “Not once.” Her eyes pooled with tears, and London sat forward, grabbing one of her hands while Jinx wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “My sister, my mom, too, liked the idea of Seven Dishes, but Dad thought it was horrible. Told me so repeatedly.” A sob caught in her throat. “I wish—” She broke off, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I w-wish j-just once—”
“Oh, honey.” London looked for a place to rest her champagne flute. Cleo grabbed it and Jinx’s flute too as the women comforted Harper. Jinx held her friend tight, while London reached over and nabbed a handful of spare Kleenexes, passing them to Harper. She squeezed the sobbing woman’s knee. “God, I’m sorry to bring the conversation down.”
Harper hiccupped her answer. “N-no, I’ve needed to get this out, but I couldn’t in front of Mom and Sienna.”
Cleo mouthed the words ‘her sister’ and London nodded.
“He was m-my dad.” Harper sobbed. “I d-didn’t like him as a person, b-but he was still my dad.” The last words came out ripped on a note of anguish.
London blinked through her own tears, and watched helplessly as Jinx held her best friend while sobs wracked Harper’s body.
A few minutes later, emotionally spent, Harper quieted to the occasional hitched breath and wiped her eyes.
London’s heart broke for such a generous, loving woman as Harper. She couldn’t begin to comprehend what it must have been like having a father who didn’t fully encourage her in her endeavors. Throughout her life, London had always known her dad loved her. Without question.
And what kind of asshole never uttered a word of support to his child, especially one like Harper who had achieved her dream of running a café?
Sure, London shouldn’t think ill of the dead, but Fox sounded like he was one self-centered bastard.
Jinx held Harper at arm’s length and gave her friend a lopsided grin. “You’re lucky we hadn’t started London’s eye-makeup, or I’d be so furious right now.”
Harper glanced up to catch London gently using a Kleenex on her eyes.
Jinx’s joking admonishment was the pressure release. All four women chuckled and dabbed at their tears.
Once resettled with a glass of bubbly, Harper glanced over at London.
“Since you’ve confessed your secret about your writing, sharing with us about Heath will be a cinch.”
London’s jaw dropped. Sneaky!
Cleo coughed out a laugh as she struggled to swallow her mouthful of drink.
“Heath?” Jinx glanced between the all three women. “As in a-girl-so-wants-to-be- patted-down-by-him, Detective Heath Justice?”
Harper nodded. “The one and only.”
Jinx fixed her gaze on London. “Tell us everything.” She held the bottle of foundation—ivory with pink undertones No. 1 to be exact—to her chest, as if withholding its contents on condition of imparting information.
Cleo pulled up a chair, parked her backside on said chair, and stared at London.
Shoot. There was nothing for it except to get this over with.
“I met him last Thursday morning outside of my parents’ house. He thought I was breaking into their garage and he, uh...” —she closed her eyes briefly before rushing out the last few words—“he was going to arrest me.”
Three pairs of eyes grew wide. Total silence lasted all of two seconds.
“Oh my, God!”
“That’s so freaking hot.”
“You mean handcuffs and everything?”
She gazed directly at Jinx and nodded. “He threatened to hogtie me with his belt.”
Cleo gasped. “Holy shit.”
Jinx’s mouth dropped before a huge smile spread over her face. “You’re now my idol.”
“This was so worth the wait,” Harper whispered before she bit into a mini quiche.
“He’s always struck me as the quiet kind of action guy. Not macho in an overbearing way, but totally hot.” Cleo grabbed her flute of bubbly and took a gulp.
“He’s got the stare thing going on. Kind of like my Seth, but different. I think it’s the added cop factor.” Harper shared a smile with London. “And he actually thought you were breaking into your parents’ house?”
“Their garage to be exact. I was researching how to jimmy a lock for the new book.” She rolled her eyes.
Jinx lifted her glass in a toast. “Let’s hear it for research.”
London’s laugh matched her friends, and three more glasses were raised high.
“And new adventures.” Cleo added, her gaze on London. “They’re not worth doing unless they’re a bit scary.”
“True.” London agreed softly.
Three hours later, London had changed back into her clothes she’d worn from home and packed her “signing outfit” into her rolling carry-on bag. With her face expertly made up from Jinx’s earlier experiments, she and her three friends exited Jinx’s salon.
“I can’t believe I have to go back to the store.” Cleo sighed. “But I promised the guys I’d sign off the new stock order for them.” She glanced at London’s rolling carry-on bag. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’m not drunk, just playing it safe.” London assured them. There was no happy alcoholic buzz, or dizziness. “I’ll ask one of my brothers to take a taxi here and then drive my car.”
“No need,” a man said from behind her. “I’ll drive you home.”
She turned to find Heath, looking as gorgeous as he had five hours ago, standing three feet away. Once again, Seth was at his side.
Jeez, what was it with Heath managing to appear from nowhere?
London chose to ignore the way Harper pressed her lips together as if to stop herself from laughing. “Thanks, but I can’t leave my car where it is.”
“Seth can park it behind Harper’s building. They have space.”
“Sure.” Seth came forward and held out his hand for the keys, not giving her a chance to decline.
She couldn’t keep her car on the street all night, and this would save asking one of her brothers. That’s if they were available. And Heath lived in Green Lake, so the drive wasn’t out of his way.
“Okay, thanks.” She dug into her tote and handed over her keys to Seth.
After telling him the details and location of her car, he nodded. “No worries. Come into the café tomorrow and collect the keys.”
“You bet. Thanks, again.”
“Anyone else need a ride?” Heath checked.
Cleo and Jinx both declined and made their goodbyes.
Harper hugged London. “I’ve had fun. Thank you.” After an extra squeeze, she stepped back.
“You’ve got my number now. Anytime you need a break, call.”
“I will. See you Wednesday night.” With a wave, she and Seth crossed the street before Seth headed off in the direction of her car and Harper entered Seven Dishes.
“You look gorgeous, London. Did you have a good day?” Heath reached across her to grab the handle of her rolling carry-on bag.
“I did.” She followed him as he unlocked a black SUV two cars down and stopped at the back passenger door. “And just like in Vegas, what happens during a stylist session stays in the salon.”
His voice was a dark, rich baritone she felt deep in her bones. “I bet I could make you confess.”
Her stomach dropped.
He stared at her, waiting, blue eyes full of challenge. And she wanted to accept. To dare him. The words were on the tip of her tongue. She opened her mouth—
The sharp honk of a horn made her jump. She caught sight of a driver giving the
finger to another as they continued down 1st Avenue.
A reality check?
She decided it was safer to open the front passenger door and climb in.
Heath deposited her case on the backseat and then joined her up front. In seconds, they’d merged with the late afternoon traffic.
“What’s your address, Red?”
She smiled a touch at his name for her and answered.
“Huh, you’re only three blocks from me. I’m on 63rd Street.”
“Really?” She must have driven past his house at some point.
The rest of the drive went quickly. Heath shared stories of the renovations to his house, including the time he and his second oldest brother, Zach, managed to nearly flood the house when he had wrongfully assumed Zach had turned off the water before they’d pulled out the old bathroom fixtures. According to Heath, the only one left laughing was Zach’s five-year-old daughter, Milly, who’d organized her babies to have a pool party in Heath’s hallway.
London turned her head to face Heath. “So is Zach the only one of your brothers with a child?”
“Yeah, but there’s no wife.” Heath spoke with enough feeling London was in no doubt he wasn’t sad about the fact. “The bitch dumped Milly with Zach when the baby was only three months. Took off with another biker and hasn’t been in touch since.”
Abandoned her baby? Another biker? So Zach was a biker? And Heath a cop? Weren’t those lifestyles at odds with each other? Not that she knew anything about bikers beyond what she’d read in romance novels.
“Your brother’s a biker?”
“He looks like one and rides a Harley, but he isn’t a member of a club.”
“And then there’s Adam.”
“Ex-black ops commando. He’s started his own specialized security firm.” He shrugged. “I’m guessing that’s what you’d call his new enterprise, but private investigator fits too. A mixture of both. Seth’s his computer guru. He had his own company until a month ago. Sold it to Stanton Fox for a fortune.”
