“Ellie, you need to eat,” he insists.
“I will.”
“You need to eat something more than a banana. Your body needs protein to run more efficiently.”
“You’re annoying,” I mumble, snatching the bar from him, ripping it open, and taking a large bite, which I chew twice before shoving the rest back at him and running to the bathroom, spitting it out in the toilet. It tastes like chalk and peanut butter—not a good combo, if you ask me. How anyone would willingly eat that, I don’t even know.
When I step back out into the hall after rinsing my mouth out and brushing my teeth again, both Hope and Jax are laughing hysterically.
“Do you eat that crap?” I ask Jax, and he grins, his body still shaking with laughter.
“Yeah, before workouts.” He chuckles.
“Why in the world would you waste perfectly good calories on that garbage?” I ask, and he places his hand on his stomach and laughs harder while Hope giggles.
Rolling my eyes at them, I ask Hope, “Are you ready to go?”
“Yep.” She smiles, taking my hand and tugging me toward the stairs. When we reach the first floor, Cash and Lilly are waiting at the bottom, both smiling strangely at us.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, grabbing Hope’s coat and then mine.
“Perfect.” Lilly smiles then turns to kiss her husband when he tells her that he and Jax are gonna head out.
“We’ll do dinner here tonight, babe,” Jax says, and I turn to look at him.
“Uh…sure,” I agree, even though I don’t know how I feel about dinner with Jax. This situation is already feeling way more intimate than I’m ready for.
“Also, here’s your key, and you remember the code, right?”
“I do,” I say, placing the key in the front pocket of my jeans.
“Have a good day, baby.” He smiles, making my stomach do something strange.
“Later,” I murmur, watching him tap the end of Hope’s nose, making her beam before walking out the door.
“Ready, honey?” Lilly asks, standing in the open doorway.
“Ready.” I smile, taking Hope’s hand in mine and following her outside. “Wait, I need to get Hope’s car seat.”
“Jax already took care of it.”
“Oh,” I mutter, and she smirks, opening the backdoor to her car. Picking Hope up, I get her buckled in and hand her doll over before getting into the passenger seat.
“How far is the salon from the house?” I ask Lilly.
“About a five minute drive.”
That’s good; I could walk to work. I still need to work out a babysitter for Hope, but I’m hoping I can find a child care program she can go into while I work, since that’s what she did before and she loved it.
When we pull up in front of the salon, I take in the area around it. It’s in a shopping plaza, which would mean a lot of walk-ins, and since I needed to build a new clientele, that would be perfect. In Kentucky, I owned my chair at the salon I worked in. I enjoyed it, because I made my own hours and only worked when I had someone coming in. Here, I will be starting from the bottom until I have enough of a base that I could maybe open my own place or rent a chair from someone.
“I’m really nervous,” I blurt as Lilly turns off her car.
“You’re gonna be great. Frankie is really sweet. You’re gonna love him, and the girls who work with him are all really nice too.”
“I know you’re probably right, but I’ve never really done this. The salon I worked at is the same one I interned at while I was in school. I don’t even remember what it’s like to interview.”
“You’ve already got the job, honey. You’re just going to meet him. I’ll be out here with Hope if you need me.”
“You’re not going in with me?” I ask, feeling like I want her to hold my hand, which is strange, since I have never had anyone around to hold my hand before.
“I can if you want. I just figured you would want to go in alone.” Lilly shrugs.
“No, you’re right. I should go in by myself,” I mumble, looking at the shop.
“He knows you’re coming. I sent him a text when we left the house. It’ll be okay, honey. Take a breath.”
Pulling in a breath, I let it out slowly then put my hand on the door handle. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, Mama,” Hope says from the backseat.
“Thanks, Angel,” I whisper as Lilly encourages, “Go get ’em.”
Opening the door and closing it behind me, I pull my coat tighter around myself as I walk across the sidewalk. When I reach the salon and go inside, I’m bombarded with the familiar smell of hair products. Looking around, the place is more than nice. The décor is simple but high class. A large, dark purple couch sits in front of the shop windows, scattered with white pillows that have gold streaks through them. In front of the couch is a mirror-top table, two small kid-size chairs, and a stack of coloring books and crayons.
“Can I help you?” a beautiful woman with long, almost-white blonde hair asks when I get to the front desk.
“I’m here to see Frankie,” I say softly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. The salon I worked at back home wasn’t even half as nice as this one, and the women I worked with were much older. I’m not sure how I will get along with women my own age.
“Do you have an appointment?”