“Grant, dear,” his mother began, “tell us what happened last night. Who is it that pepper sprayed you?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it, Mama.”
“It was Ivy’s friend Pepper,” Blake added, always helpful.
Helen frowned. “Pepper Anthony? From down at the salon on the square?”
“Yes,” Grant said.
His grandmother watched him thoughtfully for a moment, thus far silent on the subject of his puffy, red eyes. “What did you do to her?” she asked at last.
It was bad enough he didn’t get any sympathy for his wounds. His family had to add insult to injury by assuming that he did something to deserve it. “I startled her. It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh, for chrissakes,” Norman muttered, shoving a buttered piece of cornbread in his mouth. “Stay away from that girl, Grant. That whole family is trouble.”
Grant swallowed his bitter response. The last man on earth he’d want relationship advice from was his father. The man hadn’t drawn a monogamous breath in his life. It was an unfortunate truth he’d stumbled upon when he was only eleven, and he’d been bombarded with the signs of his father’s infidelity ever since. It wasn’t Grant’s sin, but he couldn’t be the one to tell his mother that her husband was unfaithful. He certainly couldn’t confide in his siblings and burden them with that painful knowledge, either. It was bad enough he had to know the truth and keep the secret.
Seeing that other woman in his father’s arms had been a life-shaping moment for him. Everything changed. That was why Grant didn’t lie. He was as honest as he could be about everything he could. He already had one giant secret weighing on his conscience, he didn’t want another.
“Wasn’t it her brother Logan that broke Blake’s nose in high school?” Helen asked.
“Yes,” Grant spoke up, happy not to talk about himself for a minute. “Let’s discuss Logan beating up Blake.”
“Let’s not,” Norman said, his face drawing down into a sour frown. “How are your eyes? Do you want to press charges? That’s assault, you know.”
“I’m fine, please. And no, I’m not pressing charges. It was an accident. It could’ve happened to anyone.” Grant reached out to the platter of ham and used the carving fork to stab a slice and lay it on his plate.
“Well, that’s what you get for slumming with that trash,” Maddie said.
Grant leapt out of his chair, lunging across the dining room table until the carving fork was about an inch from Maddie’s throat. He ignored the gasps and startled words of his family around him. “You take that back,” he warned with an uncharacteristically cold tone.
“Or what?” Maddie didn’t even blink. She knew Grant wouldn’t hurt her, even though she deserved it. “You going to stab me with that fork like a glazed ham?”
“You and every member of your stuck-up, condescending pack of hyenas would deserve it if I did. You’re not better than everyone else, Maddie. Now, take it back.”
Maddie bristled at his suggestion but scooted her chair back just enough to get out of Grant’s reach. Norman reached out and took the fork from Grant’s hand and stared him down until he was back in his chair.
“We haven’t had a stabbing at Sunday dinner since Hazel got Simon for taking the last piece of cake,” Norman noted calmly. “Let’s not break our streak, shall we?”
“I was three!” Hazel protested from behind her square glasses.
“It didn’t hurt any less because you were three,” Simon grumbled. “I got seven stitches in my thigh from that.”
“Enough,” Norman said, his voice raised just over polite discussion levels. He rarely raised his voice, even in the courtroom. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything else.”
“I heard the peeper struck Gloria Everett Friday night,” Maddie offered, her gaze fixed on Grant with an apologetic smile. That was as close to an “I’m sorry” as he was going to get.
He’d take it.
“Gloria, the high school principal?”
“Yes, I overheard her when she was in the bakery yesterday to order a tray of croissants and muffins for the teacher-appreciation breakfast the seniors are hosting.”
The topic shift started the table buzzing and soon everyone was speculating on the creep’s identity and had forgotten all about Grant’s eyes. He let them talk, happy to eat his ham and roasted potatoes in peace at last. It wasn’t until he carried his dish into the kitchen when they were finished that his grandmother caught his attention and summoned him to her library.
She sat him down in the seat opposite her large mahogany desk. “What’s going on between you two? You and the Anthony girl?”
Grant sighed and slumped back in the chair. He wasn’t going to lie about what happened, especially not to his own grandmother. But he didn’t relish telling her the truth, either.
“We had a brief thing,” he said, being as vague as humanly possible.
“A one-night thing?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Holding a carving fork to your sister’s throat over an insult seems like a bit of an overreaction for a one-night stand.”
“It was just in my hand at the time,” he argued. “I could have just as easily threatened her with my spoon.”
His grandmother watched him over the top of her glasses. “Grant?” she prompted.
“She deserves better than the way Maddie treats her. The way a lot of people treat her. So what, she grew up poor? She’s done a lot for herself over the years. She’s worked hard, bought her own house. People just won’t let it go. Stupid small towns with small minds,” he lamented.
Adelia nodded slowly, although he was wondering how much more she was reading into his words than he was saying. “What is it about Pepper that makes her different from the other girls you’ve dated?”
That was a good question. He’d asked himself that a hundred times. Why did he want her so badly? Why was she the one woman he couldn’t get out of his head? He gave the only answer he could come up with. “She doesn’t want me,” he said. “Although I don’t know why that’s appealing.”
“You’re used to getting whatever you want without trying very much, especially when it comes to the ladies. You’re like your father that way. When he was young, all he had to do was smile and the girls would trip all over themselves like they do with you.”
He didn’t enjoy that comparison, but he knew it was true. The difference was that his father continued to charm the women long after he was married. Grant refused to commit so he wouldn’t be tempted to make the same mistake. You can’t cheat when there’s no one waiting for you at home to cheat on.
“I think you’ll find that sometimes,” his grandmother continued, “working hard for something makes it that much sweeter when you succeed.”
Grant had to admit the night they spent together was exceptionally sweet. At least up until he woke up alone. He’d never had a woman walk out on him like that. Of course, that was because he usually bailed first. Pepper had turned the tables on him that night and he liked it.
A lot.
“Pepper, can you fit in an emergency cut and color?”
Pepper sat aside her broom and looked at her appointment book to confirm. She nodded to Sarah. “Yeah. My two o’clock canceled, so I don’t have another client in until Colette comes in for her relaxant at four. Who is it?”
Sarah held the phone to her chest, a smirk twisting her lips. She reminded Pepper of Ivy when she did that. Adelia Chamberlain, she mouthed silently.
Pepper’s brow shot up in surprise. “She wants to get her hair done here?” As far as she knew, none of the Chamberlains had ever set foot in Curls before. Maddie went to Birmingham to the same salon her best friend Lydia Whittaker used. Neither of them cared for Pepper or Ivy, and the feeling was mutual, so coming to Curls was just like begging for Pepper to dish out some retribution for the years of hell they gave her in school.
Adelia and Helen usually went to a salon in Gadsden and had since before Curls opened.
/> Sarah nodded. It must really be an emergency if she was willing to darken their doorstop. Miss Adelia was rarely even seen in town anymore. Pepper had been planning to take a late lunch to fill the time, but she wasn’t about to turn down anyone’s money, even Chamberlain money.
“If she can make it on short notice, she can have the slot.”
Sarah turned her back and returned to talking on the phone to Miss Adelia. A moment later, she nodded and gave Pepper a thumbs-up to confirm. Pepper returned to sweeping up the tiny bits of hair from the floor that her last haircut left behind. She had just intended to tidy up a little bit, but knowing that Adelia Chamberlain was coming into the shop sent her on a rare cleaning bender. She would be here in a half hour. Pepper’s station wasn’t exactly messy, but it could use some tidying up.
She wiped down her chair and tabletop, putting away combs and clips, and stowing her curling iron and hair dryer in their slots. She restocked her foils in case Adelia wanted highlights and set up a new cart with color-mixing bowls and brushes to have ready. Last, she hung a clean cape on the hook beside her station and put out a fresh stack of towels.
Once she was finished, she stowed the broom and grabbed her purse to run out for food. She didn’t notice Sarah watching her until she was about to leave. Sarah’s client was sitting under the hair dryer, so Pepper’s boss was standing by the front counter. Her arms were crossed over her chest, an amused grin on her face.
“What?” Pepper asked.
“I’ve never seen your station that tidy before.”
Pepper shrugged. “So?”
“So, I thought you didn’t care about the Chamberlains.”
“I don’t,” she argued. And she didn’t. Not really.
“But you’re doing your damnedest to impress one of them,” she noted.
Pepper sighed and shook her head. “There’s a difference between trying to impress someone and trying not to give them any more ammunition to fire at you. Half that family thinks I’m trash. I don’t want to have a messy work space that just reinforces that in her mind. Besides,” she added, “if she likes my work, maybe she’ll come back. I could use the money.”
Sarah nodded. “Okay,” she said, but there was a gleam of humor in her eyes. “You’d better hurry if you’re going to be back in time.”
“See you in a bit.” Pepper stepped out onto the street and headed straight for the Piggly Wiggly. There, she got a sandwich at the deli, a bag of Golden Flake chips, and a bottle of diet Sundrop. On the way back, she eyed the window display of Petal Pushers, Miss Francine’s shop. She couldn’t remember the last time she went in there.
She stuck her head inside and noticed the large, refrigerated case of grab-and-go bouquets. Why not? She snatched up a nice bundle of gerbera daisies in hot pink, red, orange, and yellow. They would look nice and cheerful on the counter in the salon.
“Nice choice,” Miss Francine said as she rung up the purchase. “Some bright flowers are always nice on a gloomy winter day.”
“Exactly,” Pepper agreed, handing over some money and slipping out of the store before Miss Francine could draw her into a long conversation.
Back at the salon, Sarah was busy with her client, so Pepper was able to slip into the back room to eat and find a vase for her flowers. By the time Miss Adelia strolled into the salon, Pepper had eaten, brushed her teeth, washed her hands, and proudly displayed the neon-hued bouquet on the front counter by the register and product display.
“It’s good to see you, Miss Adelia,” Pepper said as she greeted the older woman. The Chamberlains were Rosewood royalty, and Adelia Chamberlain was the family matriarch. She was a proud, poised woman who looked only a fraction of her age and not because she’d had work done. She had wrinkles, but not many, likely from avoiding the sun and using expensive creams for her skin. Her hair was a soft white and shoulder length, gathered at the nape of her neck in fat curls.
There wasn’t the slightest indication of frailty in her, even though Pepper’s best guess was that she was probably in her late seventies or early eighties. Her blue eyes were bright, surveying Pepper behind the square glasses that rode low on her sharp, aristocratic nose.
“Thank you for fitting me in today. My stylist had to cancel for a medical emergency and I wanted to get my hair done before the auction.”
Pepper smiled and held her arm out to guide Adelia back to her station. “I had a last-minute cancellation, so I guess it’s fate.” She helped the older woman stow her things and settle into the rotating chair. “What would you like to have done today?”
“My color is natural,” she began, “so my stylist normally does a clarifying shampoo and a glaze to maintain the color. That, and a trim, should do nicely.”
Pepper nodded. That was exactly what she was thinking. Miss Adelia had thick, beautiful white hair. White hair had the tendency to yellow from exposure to pollutants and buildup from hair products. “We’ve gotten in a wonderful platinum glaze that I think will be perfect. Does your stylist give you violet shampoo to use between visits?”
Adelia shook her head, watching Pepper’s reflection in the mirror as she ran her fingers through her hair. “No. What does that do?”
“It helps maintain the color by counteracting any yellow tones. Your color is beautiful, like pearls, but with the shampoo, you might be able to go a little longer between appointments. I’ll give you a sample to try and see if you like it.”
Adelia nodded. “Thank you.”
Pepper took the cape off the hook and swung it around her client’s body, snapping it closed at the back of her neck. “Okay, let’s take you back to do that clarifying shampoo, then I’ll apply the glaze.”
She tried to be as upbeat and friendly as she could be, but Pepper was a ball of nerves as she worked on the arguably most powerful and influential woman in town. Maybe even the county. It didn’t help that Miss Adelia wasn’t particularly chatty.
Unlike Vera or Dotty, who prattled on the entire time, Adelia seemed comfortable in silence. Or perhaps, she was just lost in her thoughts. She seemed to be in a constant state of almost judging Pepper, somehow, appraising every move she made. It made Pepper double-think everything she did and it was just a silly shampoo job.
Once they returned to the chair, Pepper mixed up the platinum glaze to apply to Adelia’s hair. “You know, you’re not my first client to mention the auction today. It seems like everyone is getting spiffed up for it. Hopefully it will get a good turnout. Are you planning on bidding on someone special, Miss Adelia?”
Adelia chuckled low and shook her head. “Oh, no. Charles was my one and only love, and I’m okay with that. As soon as I see my grandchildren settled and happy, I’ll be all too pleased to join him in the hereafter. But I like to support the community, of course, so I’ll be buying a ticket and attending the event. What about you, dear?”
Pepper had donned her gloves and was about to start brushing on the glaze, but she paused. “No, ma’am. I’ll be attending with Ivy and Blake, but my paddle is staying firmly in my lap. I couldn’t afford to buy a date even if I wanted to.”
Adelia watched Pepper’s reflection in the mirror as she spoke. “There’s a pretty impressive list of bachelors,” she said, her tone baiting Pepper to bite. “Grant, for example, has volunteered. I hear he has a nice date planned.”
She wasn’t exactly sure where the older woman was going with this line of conversation. Did she actually want Pepper to bid on Grant? She couldn’t fathom why. If Pepper were in her shoes, she wouldn’t pick the poor hairdresser for her charismatic young grandson. Of course, with the rapid rotation of women through his life, she just might be desperate enough to see him settled down with anyone. Pepper just wasn’t the one.
“Don’t tell him I said this,” Adelia said as she turned to Pepper and spoke softly so no one else could hear her, “but I think he’d like you to be the one to bid on him.” Pepper started brushing on the glaze, focusing on her work and hoping the older woman would find a new
subject.
“Did you get that impression before or after I nearly blinded him Saturday night? All things considered, it may be for the best that I leave well enough alone.”
“I don’t think he blames you for that. He realizes it was a stupid thing to do, sneaking up on a single woman walking by herself at night.”
“Well, that’s good to know, but it doesn’t really make a difference. I’m certain that the high bid on Grant will be far higher than I could ever pay. Just the other day, I overheard some ladies talking about how handsome he is. I think the women in this town have been saving their pennies to get their chance with the bad boy and his Harley Davidson. Me? All my pennies are going into renovating my house.”
“You bought the old Watson house on Daisy Drive, didn’t you?”
Pepper nodded, relieved for the conversation to veer off the subject of the verboten Grant Chamberlain. “It was left to rot for so long, I have to virtually rebuild it one room at a time.”
“That’s a shame his children let it go downhill like that. Those little historic homes are so charming. They could’ve gotten more money for it if they’d cared for it.”
“They wouldn’t have gotten my money. It took everything I had to put a down payment on the house in the condition it was in.”
Applying the last of the glaze, Pepper slipped a plastic cap over Adelia’s hair. “I think a few minutes under the heater will process this glaze nicely and make it last longer. Then we’ll rinse it out and give you a trim.”
Adelia followed her into the corner where Pepper lowered the heater over her head and set the timer. She brought her a magazine and a bottle of water, then returned to tidy up her work space.
Sarah was just ringing up her client when she finished. She turned to Pepper and spoke softly so the dryer would disguise anything she said. “How’s that going?”
“Okay, I think. I’m curious as to why she’s really here, though.”
Sarah’s brow went up. “To get her hair done?”
Pepper shook her head. “I’m beginning to think that was just an excuse. She said her normal stylist had a medical emergency. Usually when that happens, someone else at the salon will pick up the appointment. I don’t know . . . it wouldn’t surprise me if she got my other appointment to cancel somehow, just so she could have the slot today.”
Feeding the Fire: A Rosewood Novel Page 6
