Chapter 33
The pile driving was the worst, the constant banging every few seconds. Cheryl had lost count of the number of customers she’d had to apologise to. They’d had to crank up the music quite a bit, but nothing blocked out the damned piles being driven into the earth.
Still, no news came from the solicitor. The query they had put to their counterpart had gone unanswered and Cheryl didn’t know what to do. Her solicitor wasn’t exactly sure either. He’d explained that they had no reason to petition for an injunction to the construction, as it didn’t materially impact on her contract. Whether he had the permits he needed wasn’t really something she could pursue. That was between him and the local administration.
So on it went and the racket kept on going. The shops next to hers were empty on both sides, and Cheryl had no answer to give people when they asked. The worse that could happen was that the salon would be gone when they turned up one morning. That might be his strategy—act first and apologise later. That was what she feared. She would have to take the compensation he offered then. No doubt there would be a fine, but in the scheme of things, that was probably nothing to him.
“Cheryl, there is a customer for you. He asked specifically for you,” Dean said as she walked past.
“He?”
“He’s in the reception.”
They had some male customers, but not a great deal, and not ones that specifically asked for her. There were customers who insisted on the most senior person in the salon, but Natalie was usually good at directing them to where they needed to go, so this person must have insisted, or asked specifically for her. Cheryl was intrigued, but feared another impromptu meeting with Dominic Dunbury.
It wasn’t him, though, just a young man with dark hair. An attractive kid if she was into that kind of thing. “Hi, I’m Cheryl. Come through,” she said and took him to a chair. “How can I help you today?”
“What do you suggest?” His voice was crisp with a hint of public school drawl.
His hair had been neatly cut, although he could take off half an inch. It was recently washed, so it didn’t strictly need a wash, and she didn’t see the need to spend more time on this than necessary. She had much bigger things to worry about—such as if she would have a business in the morning. “Just a trim?”
“Fine,” he said as she swung the black protector around him. He watched everything she did through the mirror. Some people were naturally curious about the process. “How long have you worked here?” he asked.
“Coming up to a year shortly. I own the salon.”
“So I gather.”
Spraying the hair, she wet it sufficiently. It wasn’t bad work, whoever had cut his hair before. “Where do you go normally?” she asked.
“London.”
“Long way to go for a haircut. Are you visiting?”
“No. I live here.”
Cheryl smiled absently and got to work. It would probably have been a couple of months since it was last cut. She worked deftly, getting absorbed in the task.
“Did you move to Marbella alone?” he asked.
“With my children,” she said. “And my niece.”
“No husband?”
“Couldn’t afford the excess baggage,” she said tartly. People normally smiled when she said that, even if just out of awkwardness, but he didn’t. He just watched her, almost suspiciously. But then some people were just strange and you met all sorts in a salon.
Also different from most customers, he didn’t ask about the construction noise. Customers couldn’t help wonder what was going on, and commenting on how sorry they must be to have to put up with that noise all day long. But not this kid.
Through the mirror, she considered him back. Dark hair and dark eyes. He certainly wasn’t ugly. Mid-twenties at the most. “Sorry, what was your name?”
“Felix.”
“Well, Felix, do you want it a little shorter around the back then you had before?”
“I am assuming you’re asking because that’s what you want to do.”
“I would recommend it.”
“Fine, then.”
“What do you do, Felix?”
“Not much, actually.” A statement Cheryl didn’t quite know how to respond to. “Sometimes I get curious, though, and want to work things out, particularly strange behaviour.”
“Such as?”
“Such as why my father hasn’t torn this dump down yet?”
Cheryl’s hands stilled. Now she truly didn’t know how to respond. “You’re Dominic Dunbury’s son?”
“Obviously,” he said dryly.
“Well, maybe he hasn’t torn my lovely salon down because that would be illegal.” To confirm her fears, Felix snorted. “Why do you think he hadn’t torn us down yet?” She certainly wasn’t going to call this a dump and she wasn’t going to forget that he had.
“See, that’s the part I can’t figure out.”
Cheryl wanted to ask him to leave, but she was halfway through cutting his hair, and she was, above all else, a professional. She wouldn’t even allow herself to do a bad job of it. Taking a breath, she kept cutting.
“I would go so far as to say this is completely out of character,” he continued. Cheryl didn’t know what to say. She felt flustered and cornered, and just wanted to be away from there.
“So what do you think he’s doing?” As much as she didn’t want to speak about him, having a hint of an answer would make things better. Then maybe she would understand what was going on, and plan accordingly.
“Perhaps he’s saving you for last.”
Alright, that did not make her feel better.
Chapter 34
It was a very different feeling pulling out of port on the Sylphania than the last time they had been sitting on the aft deck on this boat. The wafting smell of marine diesel marred the lovely salty scent of the sea, but the large boat gently drifted between the jetties, moving out to open sea. Rosalie was glowing with happiness; a state he wouldn’t have thought possible in Alexi’s company the last time they’d cruised out like this. She was in love, and it seemed reciprocated.
For a while, he’d worried that Alexi was toying with her, but he seemed devoted. Rosalie hardly spent any time at Paul’s house anymore, and he found he missed her company. But he couldn’t begrudge her the happiness she seemed to have found with Alexi.
There were hardly any times when they weren’t touching in some way. Alexi’s arm would be around her waist, or she would simply be standing close enough that they were always touching.
Alice, on the other hand, looked a bit more uncomfortable, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, or the glass of wine she held by the stem. As he’d discovered so far, she wasn’t comfortable in new situations. This was more or less their second date, and it might have been a mistake now that he remembered the feeling of not being able to escape when he’d been on this boat last.
But Paul had decided that she was brave, considering the flak she seemed to get for her divorce and her ex-husband’s antics. It made it hard for her to trust people, almost as if she expected the joke to be up and people would turn on her. Paul smiled at her reassuringly as she sat in the chair, taking a sip of her wine.
“It’s a beautiful day,” she said.
“Yes,” Paul said. “Have you been down to Gibraltar before?”
“We went once. We drove down…” she started, but then faded before continuing. She did that sometimes when she recalled things from her relationship, as if the sadness of her marriage’s failure still lay heavily on her. He understood, probably more than she expected. As he recalled, there had been a time when every memory had been laced with sadness, but it did pass, eventually.
“I drove down once,” Paul filled in. “It wasn’t a bad drive. Some beautiful scenery along the way.”
For a moment, Paul couldn’t escape how awkward and stilted the conversation felt. The second date was sometimes harder than the first, because there was maybe
some kind of intent communicated. The coastline was moving outside, still quite heavily populated, but it would grow more sparse.
The dinner served on the aft deck table was delicious. Alice seemed a little more relaxed and Rosalie spoke of a conference she was about to attend in Rome. Intermittently, she smiled at Alexi as she spoke.
“Your sister is very much in love, isn’t she?” Alice said after dinner as Alexi and Rosalie were absorbed in their own conversation.
“I believe so. They were an item for a while back at university.”
“I was in love like that once.”
Thinking of Roger, Paul had trouble seeing it, but then thinking of his own wife, he struggled to see what it was he’d fallen in love with. He had been though, madly at the very start. “Perhaps we become more careful as we grow older.”
“Do you think? Or are we just as foolish?”
Cheyenne crept into his mind. If there was ever anything foolish, it was sleeping with that woman. “Maybe you are right. We are prone to doing foolish things.”
“At least you did not end up staying in the same place as your ex.”
“You haven’t considered leaving?”
“He was the one supposed to leave, but he ended up coming back. My life is here, all my friends and acquaintances. I suppose I should go. It is just difficult to pack up and leave on your own. You did it, though,” she said and Paul wondered if that was something admirable.
“I suppose I did. It wasn’t so bad. New experiences and new people. You never know who you’re going to meet,” he smiled.
Alice looked away, but she didn’t lean away. Could she really be someone for him? he wondered. Her caution made it difficult to get to know her, but he was trying. What he wasn’t entirely sure of was if he was there because he really liked her. Sure, she was attractive, but it might have been feeling sorry for the brutal treatment he’d witnessed that had made him ask her out. He just didn’t know. Perhaps what was the purpose of this time together—to get to know each other enough to see what was what.
“We should have a beer,” Alexi said and Paul noticed Alexi’s statement was directed to him.
“Splendid. What is better than a beer after a hot day?”
“What do you prefer, British, European or American?”
“British, if I’m honest.”
“Good.” Alexi waved to the steward, who rushed away and retrieved two bottles. They took them, and Alexi proceeded to the stairs going to the deck above. “I wished to speak to you.”
This was unusual, mainly for that fact that he and Alexi had absolutely nothing in common.
“I have noticed Cheyenne’s interest in you.” Her name sounded awkward with his accent, as though it didn’t quite work in Russian.
Paul didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? Did Alexi know about their dealing together? It was possible as this is a town run on gossip. It wasn’t inconceivable that people observed her attention at Roger Cavandish’s party. The other incident, no one would know about unless Cheyenne told people. “Well, my interest is in another direction.”
“This is good. Cheyenne; she is trouble, and she has a bad temper when she doesn’t get what she wants. You get tangled with her, she will cause trouble for you. I speak from experience.”
Cheyenne’s relationship with Alexi wasn’t something he knew a great deal about, other than Cheyenne telling him how fickle Alexi was. Paul wasn’t sure when this relationship had been, but obviously, it was before Malin, the girlfriend they’d met when they’d first become reacquainted with Alexi.
“Alice is a nice woman,” Alexi said. “Much better.”
Paul couldn’t entirely disagree, suspecting Alexi was generally trying to steer him clear of trouble. Anyone with eyes could see that Cheyenne was an invitation to dramatics on an unprecedented scale. If he had little in common with Alexi, he had even less with someone like Cheyenne.
Chapter 35
Stepping outside, Dominic sat down at the table, waiting for coffee and toast to be served. Maria, their cook and housekeeper, came with a cappuccino, carefully holding it so the milky liquid didn’t spill. A rack of toast was placed down by his side as well. He didn’t have much appetite first thing in the morning.
A groan sounded behind him and Felix appeared, his hair messy. He walked passed, continuing out to one of the sun loungers and lay down, lighting a cigarette. It was unusual seeing Felix up this time of the morning.
“Heading to the office?” Felix asked.
“Eventually,” Dominic said, taking a sip of the coffee.
“Oh?”
“I thought I might head to the site first. See how the build is progressing.”
“I’ll come with you,” Felix said to Dominic’s surprise.
“Have you developed an interest in construction?”
“I’m just curious to see.” Butting the cigarette out, Felix came over and sat down.
“If you keep rising early and showing interest in the company, I’m going to suspect you’ve turned a new leaf.”
“I wouldn’t get overexcited if I were you.”
“I rarely do.”
Felix disappeared back into the house. Dominic wasn’t sure what Felix was up to, but he was there when Dominic got into the car. He stared at his son who was looking out the window at the passing scenery, trying to figure out what angle he was playing.
“Have you heard anything about Shania?” Felix asked nonchalantly without looking over.
“She is faring well,” he said. “She works hard.” It was the first time Felix had mentioned the girl he’d butted heads with while she’d been a guest in their house.
Felix didn’t say anything further, still watched out the window until they arrived at the site. It was a hive of activity, trucks coming and going, heavy machinery moving earth and material. The foundation was about to be poured later in the week.
Stepping out of the car, Dominic looked around. Building sites always had a smell; it didn’t matter where they were, but the dust, earth and concrete created a distinct smell.
The row of shops was still there, but he’d been told they would start tearing them down now. Only one was still occupied and as he watched, the patroness stepped out of the glass shop door and stood staring with her arms crossed. Pencil skirt and heels. He’d never seen her wearing anything but heels. She started walking.
Felix appeared at his side. “She looks angry,” he said, and yes, it did look as if she was marching over.
“I’d appreciate knowing what’s going on.”
“We’re building. I would have thought that much was abundantly clear.”
“I have a contract. That’s what’s abundantly clear. You need to stop what you’re doing. Your solicitors are keeping quiet. This is not on, Mr. Dunbury.” She looked between him and Felix.
“Miss Waters,” Felix said.
Yet another surprise for Dominic. “You know her?”
“She’s my hairdresser.”
“Since when?”
“A couple of days ago.”
Dominic narrowed his eyes. What was Felix up to?
“Did a fairly decent job, don’t you think?” He could see something in his son’s eyes. What mischief was Felix up to now? “Like Miss Waters, I’m also curious what you are about to do?”
Curiosity was always part of Felix’s personality. As much as he tried to act cool and aloof, that curiosity always led him into trouble. And this salon had intrigued him enough to go check out what was there. He had never been a stupid boy and would have known from the moment that salon appeared in the blueprints that something was unusual.
He turned his attention back to Miss Waters, who considered him with suspicion in her eyes. “There is nothing material we need to inform you of at this point,” he said.
“Nothing material? Everyone has moved out and this whole place is an absolute zoo. There was nothing about this you thought needed mentioning?”
“We made it clear that we inte
nded to build on this site, and we are. What else is there to say?”
She blinked rapidly. “I demand that you cease.”
“I think you are out of bounds demanding anything, Miss Waters.”
Turning sharply on her heel, she marched back to her salon.
“Nice arse,” Felix said.
“Felix,” he warned.
“Why aren’t you telling her that her little salon is still in the architectural plans?”
He wasn’t entirely sure. It would be the decent thing to do, but maybe he was still miffed he’d been kind in the first place—that he hadn’t had the heart to tear her insignificant little business down. The other shop owners, he hadn’t given a stuff about, but for some reason, the lengths she went go to protect her little business had made him pause.
“She’s really not your type,” Felix continued.
“Felix, please,” he said contemptuously, but he supposed it wasn’t a wonder that Felix was curious. This was utterly out of character. She was like an ant under his foot, but even with nothing to fight with, she did so ferociously. He guessed he respected that—frosted hair, painted nails and teetering heels included.
“Just saying that if I am to have a new step-mother, I’d rather it not be someone who thought animal print was very fashionable.”
“Get in the car, Felix,” Dominic said, exasperated to the very end. He wasn’t interested in her that was. It was just curiosity. The ferocious little tigress protecting her patch. Too soft to discipline her children, but tough enough to haul them across a continent for a new start. “God knows, you probably would have turned out better,” he said dryly and smiled as Felix’s head whipped around.
Chapter 36
He knew she’d be there; her parents had accepted the invitation to a night of drinks and vacant conversation with people of their ilk. Did anyone actually like coming to these parties? This was competition—where they bragged, showed off, and let everyone know how important they were. People didn’t live in Marbella because they wanted to get away from all that. It was part of the DNA of the place. Competition, the lifeblood of society.
Marbella Beauty Page 12
