“Fourteen Bones has agreed to provide the dinner again.”
“Great barbecue,” Steve said, although his mind was only half on what Megan was telling him. The other half was spinning with regret over Cassie’s situation. He hated the thought of her losing out on her last family memories because of what happened with Britt. It made him realize anew that he’d made the right decision not to date her again.
“The best,” Megan was saying. “And the band …”
“Yes?”
“The Oak Hill Boys have agreed to return.”
“Their music is terrific.” Last May at the Hoedown, Steve hadn’t been able to keep from tapping his feet. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he’d been tempted. If Alicia had been alive she would have dragged him onto that dance floor in a heartbeat. For show he would have put up a squawk and then he would have danced the night away with his wife. Unexpectedly, a pang of loss hit him.
“What about the servers?” he asked, in an effort to divert his thoughts from Cassie.
“All lined up,” Megan told him.
“It appears everything is falling together nicely.” Megan was a wonder. He admired her skill for organization.
“We’ve already sold over two hundred tickets.”
‘It looks like we’re going to have a full house.”
“Looks that way,” she concurred. “So get out that cowboy hat of yours and polish your boots.”
“Will do,” Steve promised, still preoccupied. “And let me know what happens with Cassie.”
“I will. Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it.”
“Any time.” Steve’s head continued to spin as he left Habitat’s office. He couldn’t leave matters with Cassie the way they were. Although it hadn’t been his doing, he felt a certain responsibility.
He reached for his phone and hesitated, searching his memory for the name of the salon where Cassie worked. He finally came up with the name, logged on to the website, saw the phone number, and called the salon.
“Goldie Locks. This is Rosie. How may I help you?”
“I need a haircut.” He wasn’t sure what he had in mind yet. Maybe he’d sound Cassie out, learn what he could. If possible, he might even be able to help.
“Is there any particular stylist you would like to request?”
Steve found himself smiling. “Yes, please. I’d like to book it with Cassie Carter.”
Chapter 10
No one was more surprised than Cassie when Steve Brody was escorted to her station. She didn’t know what his game was, seeking her out where she worked, but she wasn’t playing.
Steve sat down in the chair and removed his hat. “I’m here for a haircut,” he announced, as if she hadn’t already figured it out.
She met his eyes in the mirror and asked the same question she asked every first-time client. “What do you have in mind?”
“Shorter than what it is now.”
Very funny. “Do you want it trimmed around the ears?”
“Please.”
She brought out the plastic cape she reserved for men. Somehow it seemed wrong to put a cape decorated with pictures of a dozen different types of high heels on a male client.
As was her custom, she ran her hands through his hair, testing the feel of it between her fingers. His was thick and healthy and only a tad long. Certainly he could have waited another week or two for a haircut. He obviously had something on his mind that had nothing to do with hair. Most likely it involved her visit to Habitat’s office earlier in the week.
Without a word she escorted him to the sink in order to wash his hair. He lounged back and closed his eyes as she tested the water temperature. After wetting his hair down, she added the shampoo and, using the tips of her fingers, massaged it into his scalp. Although she performed the same task a dozen times every day, this time she felt a strange feeling come over her. Her fingers slowed as she continued to lather his hair. She grew warm all over, and her fingers tingled as she touched him. She felt completely taken aback by her physical reaction to this man whom she hoped to avoid at all costs. A longing seeped through her, feelings she hadn’t dared to dwell on in a very long while. The desire to be held and kissed and loved. The desire to be cherished and appreciated.
It was a relief when she was able to rinse away the shampoo. She released her breath, bothered that she’d allowed herself to react to him at all. Her application of the conditioner was short and over with as quickly as she could complete the task. Where in the world was this coming from? These were questions she didn’t want to ask for fear of what the answers might be.
If Steve experienced any of the same sensations she did, he didn’t show it. Wrapping the towel around his head, she led him back to her station. Once he was seated, she brought out the scissors and started clipping away. After a few years working in the industry, Cassie had cut countless heads of hair. She knew what she was doing and she was a good stylist. Why this man should unnerve her was a mystery and one she preferred not to delve into. She didn’t like the uncomfortable feeling that stole over her.
She didn’t say a word.
Neither did Steve.
Later it was unavoidable as she brought out the electric razor. “Lower your head,” she told him, hoping to sound professional.
He complied.
Cassie ran the razor along the back of his neck and then around his ears. When she’d finished, she reached for her hair dryer and turned it on the low setting, blowing away any small hairs that might have clung to his neck and face. When she’d finished, she unclipped the cape and carefully removed it from around his shoulders.
In the entire twenty minutes it’d taken her to cut his hair they hadn’t exchanged more than two or three sentences.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked.
Cassie told him. He stood up and removed his wallet from his hip pocket and laid down a fifty-dollar bill.
“I’ll get your change.”
“Keep it,” he said.
Cassie’s eyes shot to his. “Keep it?” she repeated, certain there was a misunderstanding.
“Yes.” He hesitated, his eyes holding hers prisoner. “I heard you’re considering taking a leave from Habitat.”
So Cassie had guessed right. She met his look head-on and didn’t answer.
“Is that true?”
“What if it is?” she said, when the silence became too uncomfortable to bear any longer. “What concern is it of yours?”
“Don’t be a fool, Cassie. This is a golden opportunity for you and your daughter. Habitat is a gift. Don’t blow it.”
“Why do you feel qualified to give me advice?” she asked, her words dripping with sarcasm.
“Because you have what it takes to make a success of this, to give your daughter a real home and security.”
She supposed she should take that as a compliment, but she didn’t. “Thank you, I’ll take that into consideration.”
He hesitated as if he was about to say something more. “I’m telling you this for your own good. I overheard you talking on the phone recently. I don’t know who was on the other end of the line, not that it matters, but I heard what you said.”
“So you were listening in on my phone conversation?”
“Not intentionally,” he said, ignoring her defensive attitude. “You told the person to do the next right thing,” he said, emphasizing the words. “That was good advice. You should take it yourself. Do the next right thing, Cassie, and leaving the program now isn’t it.”
She’d said that to Maureen, Cassie remembered, in an effort to encourage her friend. Now he saw fit to throw her own words back in her face.
“Seeing that you’re handing out free advice, allow me to offer you some of my own.”
His head came back. “I beg your pardon?” he said, as though incredulous. “I don’t need your advice.”
“I disagree. The woman you were with at the Sounders game is a real piece of work.”
“Britt is none of your business,” he said.
Cassie didn’t have an argument. “I agree it isn’t my business. Nor is my working with Habitat your concern. You felt compelled to speak your mind. The way I figure it, you owe me the same courtesy I gave you. I listened. The least you could do is the same.”