They’d never really gotten over that, and he’d become the focus of their world. The one they pinned all their aspirations on. The one they’d pushed to do more, to do better, to get into a good college, to have a career and a beautiful, perfect girlfriend that he’d marry, and to give them beautiful, perfect grandchildren.
For years, he’d tried to be that guy. He’d tried to do everything he could to make them happy. To make up for them losing their daughter. He’d worked hard at school and did okay, but never got top marks. He’d taken courses that would get him into college. He’d won science fair awards, mostly thanks to Jamie, and basketball championships, mostly thanks to the guys who’d been the real athletes. He’d gotten into college, but when Dad had died, it had been a good reason to drop out. He needed to start making money, not spending their money on tuition for courses he hated.
But in doing that, he felt he’d let his mom down…again.
There was a saying about how people would accept any kind of check except a reality check.
Today was Arden’s reality check.
She was feeling pretty good about how things were going. She had a nice place to live, she was with her brother, she had a new friend and had reconnected with an old friend. She had a job she enjoyed (mostly) and even though it didn’t pay much, she’d managed to save up a little.
She also had a hot, single man who was interested in her and who wasn’t giving up.
That was both gratifying and terrifying. And exciting.
She’d been thinking about Tyler and the things he’d said when he’d dropped her off at work, although she hadn’t seen him since. She felt…alive. Aware. Energetic.
She hadn’t been working out, other than the pole dancing class, which had definitely exposed her lack of fitness. Back in Phoenix, before Michael had died, she’d belonged to a fashionable gym where she’d gone five days a week to do yoga, barre, circuit training, or Exalt, a trendy new class that combined restorative movement and meditation with strength and cardio training. Sitting in front of her laptop in her little apartment researching gyms in Chicago quickly informed her that even a low-cost gym membership was outside her budget.
Okay, so no more barre classes. She could stay fit without spending a lot of money. More Google searching brought up a bunch of YouTube videos on workouts you could do at home with no equipment. And, she could run. Running just required a good pair of shoes and some shorts.
She had some workout clothes, but the other day she’d noticed her favorite leggings had holes worn in the inner thigh seams. And the shoes she had weren’t going to work for running on city sidewalks. She’d go shopping today. Also, she badly needed a haircut. Her ends were embarrassingly dry and fizzy.
This required more googling, to find a salon nearby. She really needed a good keratin treatment to tame the frizz, but that was probably out of the question. She couldn’t spend four hundred dollars on her hair. So the salon on North Wabash was out of the question.
Well, she’d head down to Michigan Avenue to hit up Lululemon or Under Armour for some leggings. Maybe she’d find a hair salon there she could pop into for a cut.
It was about a twenty-minute bus ride to Michigan and Oak Street. She eyed the overcast sky and tugged her sweater closer around her to ward off the damp chill as she strolled along Michigan. First up was Lululemon. But the prices there dismayed her. Somehow, she’d never really thought of Lululemon as expensive. She fingered the fabrics and studied a cute hoodie. Ah well.
She headed south on Michigan, peering into windows as she walked. Just as she arrived at the corner of East Superior, drops of rain pelted her and it started to pour. Spying the doors of Saks, she dashed toward them and nearly fell into the foyer. She made eye contact and exchanged a sheepish smile with the big dude at the door, shaking rain off her hair. Well, might as well look around inside for a few minutes. Maybe the rain would stop.
She strolled through the perfumes and cosmetics, pausing to look at the new makeup from MAC. She did need mascara. And that highlighting powder was so beautiful. But the mascara was forty bucks, and damn, she could buy mascara for five bucks at CVS.
She rode the escalator up. She could check out workout gear here, if they had some. Maybe they had a sale. She found a sale rack of active wear and flipped through it. She pulled out a pair of leggings and sighed. Damn, those were pretty. She flicked the price tag over and sighed again, shoving the leggings back onto the rack. Reduced to a hundred fifty dollars wasn’t going to cut it.
There was no point in even looking. But she couldn’t help but stop at the shoe salon to drool a little over a pair of glittery Jimmy Choo stilettos and an adorable pair of leopard-print booties. She smiled wistfully as she picked up a bootie.
After hiking farther down Michigan, popping in and out of various stores to dodge the rain, she found the Under Armour shop. Inside, she fingered cute, strappy sports bras, shorts, and bright-colored tops. She wanted it all. And having pretty clothes would motivate her to run. But the whole outfit added up to over two hundred dollars. It was just stupid to spend that much money on something she didn’t really need.
Emerging onto Michigan Avenue empty-handed, she turned her face to the sky as the sun tried to break through the clouds, and let out a long exhale. Oh well.
She spotted a hair salon on the other side of Michigan just down the side street. Carly’s Cuts. It didn’t look too fancy. A shampoo, cut, and blow dry would pick her up. She waited in the crowd for the lights to change, then crossed Michigan and continued down the street. Stepping inside, she eyed the price menu posted behind the counter. Sixty bucks.
She would have thought nothing of paying sixty bucks for a haircut at one time in her life. But now that too seemed…extravagant. Unnecessary.
She was changing. And that was okay.
She left the salon and walked to a bus stop to head home. She’d seen a salon not far from Shenanigans that she would check out…one of those chain places.
Sitting on the bus as it motored north, she leaned her head against the window. How spoiled she’d been, letting Michael pay for expensive fitness classes, pricey clothes to wear to fitness classes, and lavish hair treatments. Not to mention regular manicures and pedicures, which she’d been doing herself lately. She’d been so clueless. This was her reality check. Those things didn’t really matter.
She hadn’t grown up in that kind of world. Her family had been comfortable, but by no means wealthy. As a teenager, she and her friends had liked to spend money they earned at part-time jobs on trendy things, but never Christian Louboutin shoes, and if they got a manicure or pedicure, it wasn’t at a fancy downtown place.
She remembered one of the first times she’d gone shopping with Michael’s credit cards after he’d signed his big contract with the Cardinals, how she’d thought it was obnoxious and wasteful to spend a thousand dollars on a pair of shoes. Yet somehow, she’d become accustomed to that, to having beautiful things, basically whatever she’d wanted. Deep inside, that wasn’t her. This was good.
Magik Kuts’ price for a shampoo, cut, and blow dry was $21.99 and they could take her in right away. Perfect.
“I’m Imani,” the young woman said as she led Arden to a chair in front of a sink. Imani was probably about Arden’s age, maybe mid-twenties, with perfectly smooth brown skin, high cheekbones, impeccable eye makeup, and her hair in gorgeous natural curls. “How’s your day going?”
“Well.” Arden sank into the chair and let Imani drape a towel around her neck. “It’s been…eye-opening.”
“Hmm. You don’t sound happy about that.”
Arden smiled. “It’s a good thing.”
“Better to have your eyes open, than shut.” Imani started wetting down her hair.
“That is so true.”
Imani shampooed her hair twice then applied conditioner, giving her scalp a lovely massage that melted her bones. It only lasted a few minutes, but it was wonderful. Then she led her to a chair in front of a big mirr
or on the wall and draped a plastic cape around her.
“So what are we doing today?” She ran her fingers through Arden’s hair, lifting it and letting it fall. “Your hair’s really thick.”
“Yes. And it tends to be frizzy. I think I just want a trim and a nice blow out.”
“Do you want to keep these long layers?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll blend them in a bit more.” Imani studied her hair. “If I take about a half an inch off, that’s okay? That’ll get rid of these dry ends.”
“Perfect.”
She clipped up the top layers and started combing and snipping.
Arden spied the book sitting on the counter. “Are you reading that?” she asked Imani.
“Yes. It’s so good!”
“I just finished it. I loved it.”
“She’s one of my favorite authors. My book club is reading it right now. We’re getting together on Thursday night to talk about it.” She paused. “And drink wine, of course.”
Arden laughed “Of course. That’s what book clubs are for.”
“You belong to a book club too?” Snip, snip, snip. Hair fell to the linoleum floor.
“No, not anymore. I recently moved here from Phoenix. I used to belong to one there, though. It was fun.”
“I love talking about books. And this group is really nice because they’re not snobby about what we read.”
“Oh, that is so important.” Arden made a face. “The club I belonged to mostly read literary fiction. It was okay, but then I’d read a great romance, and I’d be dying to talk about it, but I’d never suggest that there.”
“Yes, totally!”
They launched into a conversation about books and authors they both loved and read, finding much in common.
“You should come to our club.” Imani unclipped a section of hair and combed through it. “Seems you’d be a good fit. We don’t invite many new people.”
“Do you meet in this area?”
“Yes, most of us live around here. We take turns hosting.”
“Maybe you should check with the others first?” Arden bit her lip. “I mean, I don’t know any of you, really.”
They agreed to exchange information and Imani would be in touch with her about the book club. They continued to chat as Imani snipped away, discovering other things they had in common—both single, both had a much more successful younger sibling, and both liked trying new kinds of tea.
Imani blew out her hair, then added beachy waves with a flat iron.
Arden studied her reflection. “I love it. Thank you!”
“I’m so glad!” Imani held a hand mirror behind Arden so she could see the back, then whipped the cape off. “All done.”
Arden paid up front, adding a tip for Imani, and then they exchanged phone numbers.
“I’ll text you about the next book club meeting,” Imani promised.
“That would be so fun, thank you.”
As Arden sauntered along the sidewalk toward home, the sun now drying up puddles and creating humidity, she laughed out loud. Something settled inside her comfortably…a feeling of contentment. She’d made a new friend. Who cared that she couldn’t afford Lululemon and expensive salon treatments? None of that mattered. It was the people in her life who were most important.
Chapter Twelve
“What the hell is that?” Tyler regarded the pieces scattered over Mila’s living room floor with a frown. Outside Mila’s front window, the skies had darkened with heavy clouds. All day the air had been thick and humid.
“It’s a stripper pole.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Cool, huh? I bought it so Arden and I can practice between classes.
Tyler glanced at Arden, sitting on Mila’s couch. He hadn’t seen her since the day he’d confessed his attraction to her. Their eyes met.
Christ, she was gorgeous, even with her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, no makeup, and dressed in a pair of short shorts and a snug T-shirt. He tried not to look at her perky nipples and long bare legs, but his eager dick definitely took note.
Her eyelashes fluttered and he sensed her nerves. And yet, her lips tipped up at the corners and the air around them became charged and hot as their eye contact extended. He gave her a slow smile back.
“I just need help installing it,” Mila added.
Right. The pole.
Tyler rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you ask Jamie?”
Mila frowned. “No.”
“I kinda think you have to. This is his building.”
“No, no, I think it’s okay, it’s not permanent. It stays up with pressure or something.”
“Let me see the directions for this thing. If it’s not too hard to take down, maybe he’d be okay with it. But you really want this in the middle of your living room?”
“Not really.” Mila made a face. “But Arden wouldn’t agree to it being in her place.”
Tyler barked out a laugh. “Attagirl, Arden.”
“I wouldn’t mind it,” she said. “But the place isn’t that big.”
“Jamie wouldn’t evict you,” Mila added.
“He won’t evict you,” Arden chided.
“He could fire me.”
Arden laughed. “He won’t do that either.”
Tyler read the installation instructions and looked up at the ceiling. “Okay, you can install it with friction so we aren’t going to damage the floor or ceiling.” He squinted. “I hope it’s strong enough to hold your weight.”
“What are you saying, Tyler?” Mila frowned. “Are you saying we’re heavy?”
“Jesus. No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just imagining you doing some kind of spin and the pole falls down and you fly into the wall or something.”
Arden covered her smile with her hand. “No, we don’t want that.”
“I know!” Mila held her hands up. “You can try it out for us. If it’ll take your weight, it’ll take ours.”
“I am not swinging around on a stripper pole.”
“Why not? You’re a firefighter. Don’t you slide down poles at work?”
“No.”
“What? There’s no pole at the fire station?”
“Nope. Sorry. You want this here or in your spare room?”
“Let’s put in the spare room. Then I can leave it up.”
“Jamie should be okay with it, since it’s tension mounted. But you know what you’re gonna have to do.”
“What?”
“Demonstrate it.”
Mila and Arden laughed.
“I think it’s safe to say Jamie won’t want to see me demonstrating my moves on the pole,” Arden said.
He caught her eyes, which danced with amusement. “Maybe he won’t.”
Her lips parted as she got his meaning.
“How are the classes going?” he asked.
“Well, the first one was the most humiliating experience of my life,” Mila said. “Even though I’ve been working out, I apparently have no upper body strength whatsoever.”
Arden grimaced. “My thighs are killing me.”
Ungh. He didn’t want to imagine Arden’s thighs wrapped around the pole. “Well, this shouldn’t take long.” He grabbed his tool belt, and they carried the pieces into Mila’s extra bedroom.
He slotted the three pieces of the pole together, then added floor and ceiling plates. He stood the pole up and unscrewed and extended it until the top plate connected with the ceiling, and did the same for the bottom plate. After shaking it to test the fit, he tightened the nuts on the bottom plate. “Okay. Let’s see how strong this baby is.”
He jumped and swung himself around the pole. It held tight.
Mila clapped. “Good job, Tyler!”
“Okay, show me what you learned.”
“This is the only move I could do.” Arden moved toward the pole.
Tyler blinked as she gripped the pole with both hands, slender arms outstretched, then extended a long, sleek le
g to hook the back of one ankle around it. She pushed her ass out and fell into a slow, graceful twirl twice around the pole.
His jaw damn near hit the floor. “Holy crap.” Was she trying to make him lose his mind?
She jumped up and laughed. “That’s nothing! You should see our instructor.”
“Why are you so good at this?” Mila asked. “I didn’t invite you and Emma to come so you could show me up.”
“I’m not that good. But I was a cheerleader.” Arden shrugged. “Maybe that helped.”
“We need Danny to come and give us private lessons,” Mila said. “Speaking of which, we still have to plan a night to go to the Firefly Lounge and see him.” She moved to the pole and tested it, then tried to position herself. “No, that’s not how my arm goes,” she muttered, and changed position. And again. She lifted one leg and awkwardly tried to lift herself, ending up in a heap on the floor at the base of the pole.
Arden fell into a chair, laughing.
“Okay, never mind.” Mila jumped up, grinning. “I can’t remember. We need to watch some YouTube videos or something.”
Tyler crossed his arms, shaking his head. “You two are nuts.”
“It’s a good workout.” Mila stuck her tongue out at him.
“What’s going on in here?” Jamie appeared in the bedroom door.
“Just installed a stripper pole,” Mila blurted. “Isn’t it cool?”
Jamie’s eyebrows flew up and he studied the pole. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Seriously. You should see Arden work that pole.”
Jamie’s face scrunched up. “No. No thanks.”
“Told you.” Arden rose from the chair. “Fine. I won’t show you my one and only move.”
Which was fucking hot.
“Please don’t tell me this is your new career goal,” Jamie said.
“Hmmm.” Arden tapped her chin. “I should check into how much pole dancers make. It’s probably better than waitressing.”
“Don’t even joke about it. Waitressing at Shenanigans is bad enough.”
“Oh, come on. Shenanigans is a nice place.”
“Liam’s keeping an eye on her,” Tyler offered.
Firecracker Page 12
