by Naomi Niles
“Good reasoning.”
“I thought so,” I laughed. “She was the one that talked me into cutting her hair.”
“How did it go?”
“Terrible actually,” I admitted. “I was so nervous, I took a big chuck of her hair off. But in the end, I managed to fix it. She walked out of the salon with a stylish bob by the time I was done with her. She was actually quite thrilled. It was the biggest tip I’d ever gotten.”
“And your boss was…”
“Pleasantly surprised,” I said. “He was a little shocked when he walked in and saw me with scissors in hand, but he calmed down when he realized it had been Harriet’s idea.
“After she left, he told me that I wasn’t half bad and he’d be open to training me if I was interested. Within a few months, I was an expert at cutting and styling hair. I realized that I actually enjoyed it.”
“And, you stuck with it for four years?”
“Up until I was twenty-three.”
“What happened after that?”
I hesitated a moment, wondering how much to tell Whitney. I decided to be safe rather than sorry. After all, this woman could potentially be my boss. “I just wanted to switch gears a little,” I said. “My brother needed my help and I needed to move out of that neighborhood. The commute would have killed me, so I was forced to leave the salon.”
“That’s a shame,” Whitney said. “Did you work for any other salons after that?”
“The new neighborhood that I moved into didn’t really have many options for beauty salons,” I admitted. “And, the only one on the block wanted some sort of degree or certificate, which I didn’t have.”
Whitney nodded. “Well, I have a good feeling about you,” she said decisively. “I think you’ll fit in great here.”
“Does that mean you’re hiring me?” I blurted out.
She smiled. “I think so.”
“Oh wow,” I breathed in relief. “Thank you so much. You won’t regret this decision.”
“Oh, I’ve never really regretted any of my decisions,” she said. “Even when they turned out to be mistakes. I’m just not one of those people.”
I sighed. “I wish I could say the same.”
Whitney laughed. “I assume you’re new in town?”
“Very new,” I nodded. “I drove in last night…or early this morning, depending on how you look at it.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I rented this tiny one bedroom house out in Forest Hills.”
“Forest Hills?” Whitney repeated. “There’s only one available house out there, unless the Burbank boys have moved.”
“Andy Wilkins is my landlord,” I said.
“I’m not familiar with him,” she said, with a sly smile on her face. “But I am somewhat familiar with the Burbank boys. You might want to be careful with them.”
“Oh?” I said in confusion. “I haven’t met any of them yet. Actually, I haven’t even seen them. Are they brothers?”
“I don’t think they all live in that house anymore,” Whitney said. “I know that two of the five brothers still do, though… the two oldest ones.”
“How do you know them?” I asked curiously.
“How does anyone know about anyone?” Whitney asked. “Gossip. But in the case of Burbank boys, they all have prominent jobs. The oldest one is a plastic surgeon, the second one is a cop, the third one is a firefighter, and the fourth one is an Olympic athlete. He actually won Gold in Rio recently.”
“Really?” I said impressed. “What’s his name?”
“Alan Burbank,” Whitney replied.
“Sounds vaguely familiar,” I nodded.
“Fort Collins was plastered with posters of his face during the Olympics this year,” she laughed. “It was crazy.”
“What about the fifth one?”
“Huh?”
“You said there were five brothers?”
“Oh, right,” she nodded. “I don’t know much about him. He’s probably the reclusive black sheep of the family. But I did catch a glimpse of him at last year’s carnival, and he’s won the Burbank lottery…five for five. It’s a pretty impressive genetic pool.”
“Umm, I don’t know what that means.”
Whitney laughed. “They’re good-looking men,” she explained. “All five of them. They’re all tall, broad shouldered, and well built. That’s probably part of the reason why there is this strange sense of fascination with the Burbank boys.”
“Ah…but why did you say I needed to be careful of them?” I asked.
“Their mother split when they were young and their father died a couple of years later,” Whitney explained. “They have issues.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I said, thinking of my situation and feeling a stab of sympathy for the faceless Burbank boys.
Whitney nodded and laughed. “You have a point. Now, I would really like you to start working as soon as possible. It’s just me holding down the fort at the moment and another pair of hands would really help me out.”
“I can start immediately,” I said willingly.
“Excellent,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s head to the front.”
“Are you planning on hiring more girls?” I asked.
“Just one more to start,” Whitney nodded. “I can’t afford to hire too many people right off the bat. I just started this place and want to keep my overhead as low as possible.”
The moment we stepped out into the salon area, Whitney pushed me forward and raised her voice. “Lola, I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our little family,” Whitney said brightly. “This is Madison.”
“I know, Whitney,” Lola replied calmly. “I’m the one who told you her name.”
“I was going for a dramatic announcement,” she complained, rolling her eyes at Lola.
“There’s no reason to be dramatic at all when your hair looks like that,” Lola replied pleasantly.
“You’re such a bitch,” she sighed. “I don’t know why I hired you.”
“Cause I’m cheap?”
“Oh yeah,” Whitney nodded. “I knew I had a reason. Now come on, Madison, let me show you the ropes.”
And just like that, I felt at home.
I spent a pleasant few hours with Whitney and Lola, learning everything Whitney’s tiny salon had to offer. I drove back home at the end of the day with the music blaring and my mood soaring high. I had just parked the SUV when I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. I looked through the back mirror.
Two men were bending over the giant collection of lumber I had seen the night before. They were both tall and well built, and I recognized them immediately as the attractive Burbank boys from Whitney’s description. The shorter of the two brothers turned and walked back into the house while the other one started cutting the lumber with experienced precision.
He turned to the side, and I caught sight of his face. He was wearing dark work pants and a tight gray t-shirt that was drenched in sweat and clung to his body. I felt my pulse race slightly as I realized how incredibly attractive he looked with that hammer in his hand and the muscles of his arms flexed in exertion.
Polo’s bark was the only thing that shook me out of my ogling and it was only then that I realized that I’d just spent ten minutes staring at the man in the gray t-shirt. Snapping myself out of it, I grabbed my bag and headed for the front door.
Polo went crazy when he saw me. He tried to jump up into my arms, but his heavy backside held him down. I got to my knees and gave him a little love.
“Hi, buddy,” I cooed. “I missed you today. Did you miss me?”
He covered my face in kisses as I laughed at his enthusiasm. “I have so much to tell you, buddy. I got the job, though – which means I’m actually going to be able to afford to buy a few things for this place. What do you think of that?”
I got to my feet and went to the bedroom to change out of my blazer and shirt. Then I walked towards the kitchen. “Come on, bu
ddy, let’s get you something to eat.”
I was washing out his bowl in the kitchen when I looked up and noticed that the man I was gawking at earlier was walking over in the direction of my house with his brother. “Oh God,” I said, freezing. “I think they’re coming over.”
Chapter Seven
Peter
“Hello? Hello?” John called.
“Dude,” I said with irritation. “Get your hand out of my face. I need to do this properly.”
“Did you not see her?” he asked in amazement.
“See who?” I demanded impatiently.
He gazed at me in shock. “You’re kidding, right? You didn’t even notice.”
“Notice what?” I asked. “What are you on about?”
John sighed and shook his head at me. “The new neighbor just went into her house and trust me…she does not need to be one of my clients.”
His eyebrows were raised in appreciation, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “She was pretty huh?”
“She was pretty,” he nodded. “Very pretty. Do you still want to go over and introduce ourselves?”
I shrugged indifferently. “Sure, why not? If you want, I’ll be your wingman.”
“My wingman?”
“Yeah, you’re obviously interested in the girl,” I pointed out. “And considering that whole spiel you made this morning about wanting to find a partner in life, I assume you’re on the market and looking.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “That wasn’t exactly what I was trying to say.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“Well then you missed the point,” Jheohn said defensively. “I was just trying to have an open conversation with my brother.”
I laughed. “Are we going over or not?” I asked as I rose to my feet.
John looked me up and down for a moment. “You want to go over like that?”
“Umm…yeah, why?”
“You’re all sweaty and greasy and…gross.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “So are you.”
“I was planning on having a wash and changing.”
“Well, I’m not,” I said. “You go ahead though; I’ll wait till after you’ve changed and then we can go over.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sighed. “I can’t go over there in a shirt when you’re standing next to me sweating like a pig. It’ll look like I’ve dressed up for a reason; it’ll seem like I have ulterior motives.”
“But you do.”
John punched me in the arm. “No I don’t,” he said firmly. “I just have better manners than you do.”
“I may be losing interest in this conversation,” I told John, rolling my eyes at him.
“Fine,” he sighed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Whatever, let’s just get this over with and go over there.”
“You want to pluck some flowers from the back garden first?” I teased.
“Fuck you,” he responded, as he started walking towards her house.
I caught up to him laughing. “And, you guys think I’m not funny.”
“Because you aren’t.”
“I’m freaking hilarious,” I insisted. “Don’t you forget it.”
John ignored me and rang the doorbell. There was no sound and we exchanged a glance. “It’s an old house,” I said. “The bell probably doesn’t work anymore. Just knock.”
John knocked twice and took a step back. We heard a little woof from the other side and then the door swung open. The smile slid off my face as I came face to face with the new neighbor.
She was standing there in skin-tight jeans that hugged her hips and accentuated the length of her slim thighs. She was wearing a pale gray tank top that bared her shoulders and revealed just the slimmest touch of skin from her toned midriff. Her hair was a rich, dark brown and that had been twisted into a messy braid that draped over her shoulder carelessly. Her eyes were large, almond shaped, and the most brilliant green I had ever seen.
Any semblance of calm, indifference, or confidence that I’d had, disappeared at the sight of those intoxicating green eyes.
“Hello,” she greeted warmly.
“Hello,” John replied, offering out his hand for her to shake. “I’m John Burbank, and this is my brother Peter.”
John glanced at me and she turned to me as well as though it was my turn to speak and I had missed my cue. “I… He… Uh… You’re welcome to the neighborhood,” I blurted out, like a complete moron.
She had been about to offer me her hand to me to shake, like she had done with John, but I could tell that my absolute incoherency had stumped her. Her hand fell limply to her side, and I just stood there, wishing the ground would open up underneath me and swallow me whole.
“Oh…thank you,” she smiled, after a small hesitation. “It’s so nice to meet you both. I’m Madison.”
I could feel John’s eyes on me, boring into the side of my face. When it became clear I wasn’t going to meet his gaze, he turned back to Madison.
“Well, we just wanted to come over and introduce ourselves,” John continued seamlessly. “And to let you know that we’d be happy to help if you ever needed anything.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” she smiled, keeping her eyes firmly on John. “Andy told me the same thing last night, too. People in Fort Collins are so lovely. I should have moved here years ago.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled. “Peter and I are undertaking a few renovations on the house, but we’ll do our best to keep the noise down.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “I never minded a little noise.”
I desperately wanted to say something so that she didn’t leave with the impression that I was a complete dolt who was incapable of stringing together a proper sentence, but I couldn’t seem to think of anything to say. And then I spied her dog in the corner. He was a chocolate-brown spaniel with large, round eyes and a silky coat. Instinctively, I leaned down a little and called to him.
“Hey, boy,” I said. “Come here.”
The moment I crouched down, the dog turned tail and bolted into the next room. I straightened up awkwardly only to realize that Madison was looking straight at me, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry about Polo,” she said. “He’s a little weary of people.”
“Polo?” John asked.
“It’s short for Apollo,” Madison smiled.
“Apollo the space mission?” he asked. “Or Apollo the Greek God.”
Madison smiled. “The Greek God,” she replied. “I took a classics course one semester and fell in love with the names.”
“I like it,” John nodded appreciatively, and I hated how charming he was being.
“Thanks,” she replied, as her smile brightened at the compliment.
“Well, anyway,” he said, wrapping up the meeting. “I don’t want to keep you.”
“Thank you for coming over and introducing yourselves,” she said. “It really helps break the ice.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” John smiled. “So you won’t have any reservations about coming over and asking for help when you need it?”
“Not at all,” she shook her head.
“Great,” John nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Madison.”
“And you, John,” she nodded, before she turned to me. “And you, too, Peter.”
I gave her a tight smile that felt false and then found myself walking back to the house with a hollow feeling in my gut. The moment we had reached the pile of lumber by the porch, John turned to me with wide eyes and a suppressed smile playing on his face. “What the fuck just happened to you?”
Instead of answering him, I walked round the porch, went up the steps, and into the house where I was hidden from Madison’s line of vision. John followed behind me.
“I… He… Uh… You’re welcome to the neighborhood,” John repeated, mimicking my dull tone and vacant expression. “Should I go back and tell her that English isn’t your first language?”
“Oh God,” I said, banging my head against the closest wall I could find. “That was awful, wasn’t it?”
“I’d love to lie to you buddy,” he laughed. “But I don’t think I can.”
“Urgh,” I groaned in frustration. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Take a guess,” he laughed challengingly.
“She opened the door and…”
“And?”
“You were wrong about her,” I said accusingly. “She’s not pretty – she’s fucking beautiful.”
John’s smile softened. “Wow, look at you. Peter Burbank: smitten.”
“I’m not smitten,” I objected immediately.
“Doesn’t look that way to me,” John said, raising his eyebrows. “Seems like she had you at hello.”
I could have argued, but what would have been the point? John knew as well as I did that Madison had affected me more than any other woman I had ever come across. And, I didn’t know a thing about her.
“I’m going to get back to work,” I said with finality.
“Just like that?” John asked.
“Just like that,” I nodded.
“Maybe you should remove your shirt before you get out there?” he suggested. “At this point, the only thing you’ve got going for you is that body. She already knows you’re not very bright.”
I pushed past John and went back out to the pile of lumber sitting by the side of the porch. I tried desperately not to keep glancing over at Madison’s house, but it was hard to do. Because all I kept thinking was how was I going to get another chance to see her?
Chapter Eight
Madison
I walked into Whitney’s beauty salon feeling optimistic and confident. The fact that Kameron hadn’t contacted me since his ominous text the day I arrived in Fort Collins significantly contributed to my good mood. Lola greeted me with a nod and a smile as I walked in.
“Where’s Whitney?” I asked.
“In the back,” Lola replied. “She’ll be out in a minute.”
The moment Lola finished speaking, Whitney stepped out of her office in a red mini skirt and a white, off-the-shoulder blouse. The purple streaks in her hair clashed with the red of her skirt, but somehow, it was an attractive clash that drew the eye.
