'Tis the Season: Under the Christmas Tree / Midnight Confessions / Backward Glance. Robyn Carr
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want me,” he said, smiling. “And I’m going to let you have me.”
“You’re conceited. I do not want you.”
He kissed her again, and again her eyes flew open. This time she worked her arms free and pushed against his chest.
“Well, hell, just kiss me back and see if I start to grow on you,” he said.
“No. Because you think this is funny. I came back in here to apologize for being crabby. I don’t care about that skinny woman. Girl. I’m just a little tired.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Annie. I think it’s kind of cute. But you don’t have to be jealous of Susanna. She’s long gone and I hardly even missed her. We weren’t right for each other. At all.”
“That’s what my dad said.”
“Hank said that?”
She nodded.
“What did he say? Exactly?” Nate wanted to know.
She shouldn’t. But she did. “He said I’d be more your type, but I’d have had to kill the skinny blonde first. He said she looked near death, anyway.”
Nate thought that was hilarious. He laughed for a long time, but he didn’t let go of her. “Good thing she left, then. She couldn’t hold her own in any kind of fight. She cried if she broke a nail.”
“I bet she was just one of many.”
He withdrew a little, but the amusement stayed in his eyes. “You think I’m a player.”
“How could you not be? It’s not like I don’t know about those rich horse people. And you’re the doctor! Of course you’ve had a million girlfriends.”
The smile finally vanished. “No,” he said. “I’m not that guy, Annie. Just ’cause I’ve been around those folks doesn’t mean I’m that kind of guy.”
“Well, there are the girl vets you’re going to the islands with,” she reminded him.
“Tina and Cindy,” he said with a laugh. “Shew. I hate to brag, but I’m thirty-two, Annie, and there have been a couple of women in my past. But I bet there are a couple of guys in yours, too. Tina and Cindy are just friends of mine.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure. Old friends and a hundred string bikinis.”
“Come back in and finish your coffee,” he said with a tolerant chuckle.
“I have to go. I have to get home to Ahab.”
“Who’s that?” Nate asked.
“My cat. Ahab. Tripod. He has a lot of names. He’s three-legged.”
“What happened?” Nate asked.
“I don’t know. I adopted him from the shelter when it was clear no one else would ever take him. He’s got a bad attitude, but he loves me. He’s very independent, but he does like to eat. I have to go.”
“Are you coming back tomorrow after work?”
“Are you going to be a gentleman?” she asked.
He lifted one of those handsome brows. “You want me to?”
No. “Absolutely. Or I’m leaving the puppies all to you without helping.”
“Just come tomorrow after work. Swing by home and feed your cat first so you don’t have to be in a hurry to leave.” He gave her a very polite kiss on the cheek that just oozed with suggestiveness. “I’ll see you then.”
Christmastime in a beauty shop was always frantic and the Clip and Curl was no exception. There were less than two weeks till Christmas and Annie’s clientele, the clientele of the whole shop, wanted to look their best for parties, open houses, family visits, neighborhood gatherings. Appointments were one after the other. There was a lot of gossip, a lot of excited chatter. Annie was pretty quiet the next day, but there was plenty of talk in the place to cover the void.
Pam, who was older than Annie by a few years and had been married for ten, was training to be the assistant manager. While Annie was applying foil to strips of hair for highlighting, Pam approached with the appointment book in her hands. “We have three choices. We can turn away some of our best regular customers, stay open till nine a couple of nights or open up the next two Mondays to fit them in.”
“Why don’t people schedule ahead of time?” Annie asked.
“As you taught me, they expect to be accommodated and we can either do that or lose them to another shop.”
“Staying late is hard for me and you have a family. I don’t want to stick you with that duty,” Annie said. Then after thinking about it, she said, “Maybe I should work nights. That would settle that.”
“Settle what?” Pam asked, holding the large appointment book in her crossed arms, against her chest.
“Oh, that guy. The vet. You know.”
“Know what?”
“The guy at the bar, Jack, he said they couldn’t keep the litter of puppies there anymore. The dogs are doing very well, growing, which means they’ll soon be up to their eyeballs in puppy poop. Not a real appetizing prospect for a restaurant. So Jack said that’s it, they have to go. Dr. Jensen took them to his house, which is part of the whole stable-and-vet-clinic operation. And since I made a commitment to help...he’s counting on me coming over after work.”
“To his house?”
“Yeah. He said if I’d help, he’d thaw something for us to eat. We’ve been having a beer and dinner at that bar.”
“Listen, it’s up to you, Annie. It’s your shop. My husband’s on board to get the kids from school and take care of their dinner and homework. You know I need whatever hours...”
“Then you make the decision,” Annie said.
Pam lowered the appointment book and held it against her thigh. “Annie, I don’t need you to stay if the shop is open till nine or open Mondays for a couple of weeks. Two of the girls are willing to work a little extra to help pay for Christmas. But you have to feel comfortable about leaving me in charge. And I don’t want to push you to do that before you’re ready. You’ve run a pretty tight, one-woman show here.”
“Have I?”
Pam nodded. “But I don’t blame you, Annie. This is your shop, your investment, your responsibility. Whenever you think I’m ready, I’m glad to help.”
“Thing is, he kissed me.”
It became very quiet in the shop. Pam’s mouth dropped open.
“Nuts,” Annie said. There were no ears gifted with supersonic hearing like those found in a beauty shop, despite the noise of dryers and running water. She looked around the small shop. It was tiny—three chairs on each side of the room. Two dryers and two deep sinks in back. Behind that was their break room and Annie’s little office.
In the salon now were women in various stages of beautifying, rods, rollers, foils or back-combed tresses blooming from their heads. Beauticians with blow-dryers, curling irons, combs and brushes in their hands, poised over those heads. All silent. All waiting. “Talk among yourselves,” Annie instructed.
“Lotsa luck,” Pam said. “Is this guy, this vet, in any way appealing?”
Annie’s cheeks got a little rosy.
“Is he cute?” Pam asked.
Annie leaned toward Pam and whispered, “You’d wet yourself.”
And Pam’s cheeks got a little pink. “Whew.”
“Well,