She hugged me tight in her café t-shirt and shorts that I was sure were giving Blake an aneurysm. But hey, if you have the legs, flaunt them. “Ooo, I love that dress. Can I borrow it?”
“As soon as you turn eighteen next year and graduate, you can borrow anything of mine.” I would have let her borrow it now, but Jessie was my best friend and even if I didn’t always agree with her parenting choices, I wouldn’t overstep my bounds. At least most of the time. And I wouldn’t purposely give Blake a heart attack, even if I sometimes thought he deserved one. He could be so dense at times when it came to women. I had to give him props though, he was a lot better than he used to be.
Her gray eyes smiled. She knew.
“Is your mom around?” I asked. Jessie was technically her stepmother, but in every way that counted she was Maddie’s mom. Jessie was hit and miss at the café now, ever since they adopted Tristan almost three years ago. He was finally getting to the place where I enjoyed him. I’m not sure Jessie and Blake felt the same way right now as he was steamrolling them through his terrible twos. I tried not to take too much pleasure in it, at least in front of their faces, but only because they had been through more crap than anyone should have had to go through to have a baby. I had almost lost my best friend in the process. Another reason I never wanted to have a baby.
Before Maddie could answer, Jessie walked in from the back offices and called my name.
I gave Maddie one more quick squeeze. “Come and see me before school starts. I want to try some new product on your hair, and maybe I’ll throw in a little pink streak.” I’m not sure how Jessie would feel about it, but I was a do first ask later kind of woman. Or really don’t ask at all.
She squealed and kissed my cheek before she went back to waiting tables.
I once again forced myself not to give off any hint that I was in pain, or that I was interested in the attractive older gentleman sitting at the counter. August was still considered tourist season in Merryton and normally this was a great time of year for me with fresh blood, but I was turning over a new leaf, as hard as it was to resist. Especially when it came wrapped in the package at the end of the counter. His eyes and posturing said he was ready to take me for a spin in what I’m sure was a luxury vehicle. His designer clothes and expensive cologne that wafted my way said he had all the money in the world to spend. And all indications said he would throw some my way.
Resist, Cheyenne. I steadied myself and pretended I didn’t miss the feel of a man’s arms around me. It was ridiculously hard. The last man’s arms I had been in were Aidan’s. Why was he always popping up in my head?
Jessie’s raised eyebrow and narrowed hazel eyes tried to read me.
I met her at the counter. “I’ll take my usual.”
She tilted her head. “Are you back to running again?”
“Don’t lecture me.” I hadn’t been coming in to get my regular of her chocolate chip cookies and milk since the accident. I couldn’t afford the extra calories. And yes, I knew cookies and milk were a terrible breakfast, but if I ate them for a meal, it meant I wouldn’t snack on them between meals. Was I vain and worried about my weight? Yes. And I wasn’t sorry for it.
She leaned across the counter and took my hand. “I’m not going to. I’m glad to see you doing things you aren’t supposed to.”
I gave her a crooked grin. “Get ready.” I was back.
“Speaking of which.” She leaned in closer. Merryton was notoriously nosy. “I saw you and Aidan at the door. What’s going on with the two of you?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Did you ask him that?”
“No, but he asked about you this morning.”
Why wouldn’t he just ask me? “And what did you say?”
“What would you want me to say?”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s nothing going on between us, and I don’t care what you said to him.”
“Then why did you ask?” She smirked.
“Just give me my cookies.”
“Now you’re sounding like yourself. Does this mean you can start doing Zumba again with Abby and me?”
“I’m game. Is Rob still teaching?”
“Yes, and Blake hates it. He still makes sure to play racquetball at the same time. You know he plays with Aidan?”
That was a new development. “Since when?”
“Last couple of weeks.”
“Huh.” I pretended to be as uninterested as possible. But now I was rethinking Zumba. The racquetball courts were above the gym at the rec center and the courts had a full view of the gym. I didn’t mind giving Aidan a taste of what I could do in Zumba, and yeah, it was good. I had taken several Latin dancing classes and been with some amazing dancers on and off the dance floor. I had moves. But seeing him with sweat dripping off him was the last thing I needed. I’d witnessed it before at baseball games and the thought of it had my lips urging me to go find him.
Jessie’s smile said she could see through my pretended indifference, but she was good enough not to call me on it. Then suddenly her eyes lit up. She pulled my head closer. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. My little craft ladies were in early this morning and Doris said that last night she saw Landon and Lucy together.”
“In public?” Landon was the old mayor before Andrew, Rachel’s husband, beat him in May’s mayoral election. And Lucy was Landon’s secretary. And did I mention Landon was married to Veronica? Veronica, who was the shining star of my Bimbos on Parade Facebook photo album. That album had more likes than my hot men album, and that’s saying something. There was no love lost between us. Jessie, Abby, and I had never liked her. We all went to high school together, along with the sleazy former mayor whom Jessie dated in high school, but she hated the reminder.
Jessie’s normally angelic eyes were more on the devilish side. “Uh-huh. And Ingrid heard that Veronica kicked him out. Apparently since he didn’t bring being mayor to the table anymore, she’s tired of putting up with his philandering. And because they lost the baseball championship three years in a row to my team.” Jessie was still basking in the glow of it.
I had skipped all the games this summer. I was sick and tired of people staring at me like there was something wrong with me. And Aidan was there. I had done my best to avoid him. “She’s no saint, either. But, wow. The first couple of Merryton,” as they used to love to think of themselves, “has broken up. Whatever will we do?”
Jessie stood up straight. “I would stay clear of Veronica. It’s going to get ugly. Remember when I was voted prom queen over her? This will be nothing in comparison. If I were Lucy, I would take cover and hire protection.” Veronica had slashed Jessie’s tires back in the day, but we could never prove it.
“I don’t feel bad for Lucy; she knew Landon was married.”
Jessie gave me a knowing sympathetic smile. “Paxton was an idiot.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m over him.”
“Are you really?”
“Yes. Now will you give me my cookies? I’m going to be late opening the salon.”
“Geez, you’re bossy.” She placed her hand over mine. “I missed it.”
I did too.
Chapter Three
I loved my salon, Ti Amo Cappeli, Italian for “I love hair.” It never failed to fill me with a sense of pride when I walked in. I loved that first moment every day when it was only me and my place. I took pleasure proving to those that doubted me or only saw me as a pretty face that I was more than they ever gave me credit for being. I made more money than most people in this town and I employed several other women. I found my success still didn’t help. Most people were never getting past my blonde hair and boobs. But they should be careful not to underestimate me.
I looked around and breathed in that chemical scent while admiring the gleaming black slate floors and the black and white photos of several European landmarks. I had visited each place. A man for every city. Frederick in London, Jean in Paris, Ashton in Rome, and how could I for
get David in Madrid? Oh, David. He was almost as intoxicating as Aidan. There I went again thinking about him. I needed to forget him. Forget them all. I could travel alone, and I planned to. Or if I could convince Abby and Jessie to come with me, but they were such homebodies now. And for some reason, Blake and Shane thought I was a bad influence. Maybe I was.
I threw away the business card of one Griffin Whiteford—the attractive man from the café. He had followed me out. His charm was hard to say no to. The CEO gave me his card just in case I changed my mind. But I had gone months without a man and I was planning on keeping it that way. It was the longest stretch I’d had since, well . . . let’s say since my body took shape a long time ago.
I flipped on all the lights in my salon and turned on the most important thing, the music. Today was going to be a classic rock kind of day, I could feel it. And before anyone else arrived, I ate my cookies and milk. It was almost an existential experience. Dang, I had missed chocolate, almost as much as men. The spinach and fruit smoothies were getting old. But a girl had to do what a girl had to do.
The salon’s manager, Jade, arrived and we went through our opening checklist of making sure the coffee bar was stocked, towels and capes were folded, foils were ready to go, and who could forget the wax strips. Mother Nature wasn’t always kind. Did women really need hair on their faces? It was one more reason not to believe in God. I mean, seriously, what was the point? While I ran the previous day’s sales numbers, Jade stocked our product shelves. August was always a good month. People were getting their children ready for school to start and that included haircuts. And I had tons of regulars.
By ten we were open and each station was filled. I had five full-time stylists and two part-time associates that could possibly turn full-time once they finished their training, as well as my own assistant. I had to have someone to keep up with my schedule. Felicia and I worked well together. She took care of things like washing the client’s hair, rinsing out color treatments, and even helping me apply highlights and color when needed. Felicia was also great because she knew the skinny on everyone. She had eyes and ears everywhere.
The salon was abuzz with the breakup of Landon and Veronica. I took a lot of pleasure in it.
Even Rachel, my first client of the day, was chatty about it, and she usually tried to stay out of the fray, especially since it was only a year and a half ago that she was the talk of Merryton. I was the first to admit that I didn’t think Snow White—like I privately thought of Rachel—had it in her to snag Andrew Turner, but did she ever prove me wrong. She was too pure to be paired with a professional athlete. But I guess when you’re raising the son he never knew he’d had with your twin sister who’d passed away, it has a funny way of bringing you together. And I would admit she was gorgeous; she had done her best to hide it, but Andrew unleashed that as well. Was I jealous? Sure. But I never cried over spilled milk or men. Okay, maybe once in a weak moment. And it wasn’t so much over a particular man, it was more out of frustration that I was never taken seriously.
Then I thought I had finally found someone, my someone, and he turned out to be a lousy, cheating, scum-sucking man. I was over it. Really, I was. I realized I liked the idea and attention that dating Paxton brought more than I liked him. When you date an athlete like that, they lived and breathed for the game, not you. I was arm candy. Except to hear him talk now, he was and still is madly in love with me. Please.
I ran my fingers through Rachel’s thicker- and darker-than-normal hair. I met eyes with her in my station’s mirror. “What are we doing today?”
Her tired violet eyes begged for me to choose.
“We could do some highlights to lighten up your hair. And I’d do some long layers, maybe even cut a few inches off.”
“Will the chemicals hurt the babies?”
“It won’t touch your scalp, so it’s perfectly safe.” Lots of pregnant moms asked that question. “Let’s throw in some red highlights to add a little sexy to it.”
She laughed. “I’m so past the point of being sexy.”
“Then we are definitely doing some red.”
She reached up and grabbed my hand on her shoulder. “Thanks. You’re a good friend.”
I didn’t respond. I left to mix color. Rachel was a lot younger than Abby, Jessie, and me—she was in her early thirties. At first, I didn’t like that we opened up our group to Rachel and Taylor, but they grew on me. And I don’t think they judged me too much even if I’d made passes at their husbands before the two women entered the picture. I didn’t do cheaters and I wasn’t one. It was one of the few moral codes I adhered to. But I didn’t let people in easily. Ask Abby and Jessie—they knew me better than anyone. I liked Rachel. I even admired her, but I worried about letting people in, and I usually did my best to keep people out as much as possible. Even the men I dated. I was the queen of superficial and proud of it.
I applied highlights while we chatted.
“By the way, my son is completely taken with you.” Rachel grinned. “He wanted me to ask you if you would come and watch him play football.”
I’d had a feeling her ten-year-old, Drew, had a little crush on me when after my accident, he brought flowers to my house with his mom and dad. He made me a card all by himself. It was probably the sweetest thing any male had ever done for me. I got a lot of fancy trips and jewelry, but nothing sentimental. “Sure, why not?” My social calendar had nothing on it ever since I gave up the opposite sex and since my stupid accident.
“He’ll be thrilled. And you know . . . Aidan is coaching his team this year.”
I dropped the brush I was using to apply the product to her hair. Thankfully it landed on my tray and not the black smock that covered my dress. “Why? He doesn’t have any kids.” At least not that we knew of. There were rumors, but nothing substantiated.
Innocent Rachel gave her best wicked grin. “Andrew and Easton are coaching too, but the babies are due before the season will be over and you have to have at least two coaches, so Andrew asked Aidan to be his backup. Besides he’s really good with the kids. He’s Drew’s Sunday School teacher.”
Of course he was. I folded up a strand of her hair in foil and tried to ignore the information about Aidan, but she wasn’t having it.
“So . . .” Rachel whispered. “Andrew and I’ve noticed that there seems to be some romantic tension between you and Aidan.”
It was a good thing I was still on a chocolate high. “If one more person says that or mentions his name today, someone is going to get hurt. Or metallic blue hair.”
She laughed. “That’s what we thought.”
“You and Andrew can take your ridiculous observations and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine.”
She laughed harder.
I finished her hair, and she was lucky I felt sorry for her huge self or she might have left my salon looking like a freak show instead of a glowing mother-to-be with flawless hair.
For everyone’s safety, it was a good thing Aidan’s name wasn’t mentioned again in my presence for the rest of the day. It kept my mood good even as I dealt with the stinging pain in my leg. At least I was out of the stupid plastic cast and done with physical therapy. Well . . . I said I was done. I was tired of being told what I couldn’t and shouldn’t do. I ran this morning and nothing horrible happened. I hoped.
My last client of the day was Ashley Cole, a premed student and the daughter of Easton and Taylor. She reminded me a lot of Jessie when we were that age. She had “town sweetheart” written all over her. She was even the homecoming queen and prom queen the year she graduated from our alma mater, Merryton High School. Her Southern manners and accent only added to her charm. She had a good head on her shoulders like Jessie, too. And she didn’t seem to let herself have too high of an opinion of herself, unlike me.
I liked doing the next generation of women’s hair. Plus, their lives were far more interesting than most of the older women. I loved getting the scoop on their love lives. It was all I ha
d going in the romance department, that and tawdry books.
“Okay gorgeous, what are we doing with your hair?”
Her smile radiated goodness. “Maybe a trim. I like being able to just pull it up if I need to when I have early morning classes.”
I tilted my head. “Why do you sound so bummed?”
Her pretty brown eyes welled up with tears. I wasn’t expecting that. Good thing I always kept a box of tissues at my station. She wasn’t the first client of the day to tear up. I really should start charging extra for the therapy.
I handed her a tissue and grabbed a nearby chair. I had a feeling this was going to take a while and my leg was killing me. “What did Spencer do now?”
She dabbed her eyes. “You know how he got hurt and lost his football scholarship?”
I nodded.
“He’s been in a bad mood about it all summer. I’ve tried to be understanding. I even tried to help him apply to state colleges and for student loans. I thought maybe he could go to CU with me. He only got mad at me and said that’s where spoiled rich kids go and that I had no idea what he was going through because my dad is a doctor and my momma has a good job too. So, I broke up with him.”
“You did the right thing. No one deserves to be a punching bag. And it’s not your fault you won the family lottery.” I gave her a wink.
“My parents were willing to help him, but he refused to take it. They know he doesn’t have the best family situation.” She lowered her voice. “You know how terrible his daddy can be and his momma is in and out of the picture. And after how my momma grew up, she wanted to help him even if she wasn’t all that happy I’ve kept dating him. I guess now I can date other people like they’ve wanted me to.”
Cheyenne (The Women of Merryton Book 4) Page 2
