Desired (Miranda's Chronicles Book 1) (11 page)

“Yes, he seemed to be,” I said carefully, lest I reveal something I didn’t want Drake to know.
Twelve million dollars.
I couldn’t believe it. Would I ever know if he actually bought it?

Dusk crept in and finally, I accepted, truly accepted, that Harvey Tackett and I had not engaged on more than one level after all. I would never see him again. Even so, I couldn’t label what went on between us as casual sex. And I couldn’t forget the dozen times he had told me he loved this or that about me. Not the same as the big three words, but still…I didn’t want to believe he was a liar.

The common sense part of me argued with me.
What did you expect? Get over it. What would you do with him if you had him?

***

Early Monday morning, even before I opened my eyes and got out of bed, I started thinking about my trip to West Texas. I had no firm time to be anywhere until four-thirty when I had to show up for work at Smoky Joe’s. I called Joe and explained I had to leave town.

After a glass of juice and a protein bar, I put food out for Miss Kitty. Then I started the day by dragging out the jar where I kept my tip money and counting it. I had over $8oo in cash. Not bad for four weekday shifts. Several of my high-roller type customers had been into Smoky Joe’s through the week.

Next, I called the two college students who conducted most of the children’s parties Gala took on and made sure they were good to go for Wednesday and Thursday.

Ashley, my hairdresser, was next on my list. It was she who kept my long tresses soft, shiny and flowing. I could not afford to have hair that looked like a thatch. Ashley took only friends and special patrons on Mondays. “Come in at two,” she told me. “I’ll be the only one here.”

Last, on deep breath, I called my sister. “What’s the latest on Mom and her pills?”

“Nothing new. I already called the doctor, but I had to leave a message.”

“You couldn’t get her an appointment?”

“Was I supposed to?”

My patience snapped. “Lisa, forgodsake—”

“What?” she barked back.

“Never mind. Did Arnie come back yet?”

“He tried to. He showed up drunk as a lord and sick. Mom and I didn’t have the money to go buy him beer to sober up on.” Big sigh from Lisa. “Anyway, Mom kicked him out. Told him not to come back.”

My jaw tightened. Though I worked in an environment where alcohol flowed freely, I had no patience with drunks. “I’m coming out there,” I said. “I’ve got to see my hairdresser this afternoon, but I’ll leave afterward. I should be there by eight or so.”

“Well, by all means, don’t miss a trip to the beauty shop.”

I made no apologies to anyone for being a high-maintenance woman. The way I looked had gotten me where I was. “My appearance is the face of my business, Lisa. You know that, so just stop with the BS. Tell Mom I’m coming.”

I disconnected, squeezed into my Lycra workout clothes and drove to the gym. All the while I worked out on the machines, I thought about Tack scantily clad in a “home gym.” And I pictured him astride a horse cowboying.

As I stepped off the elliptical machine, I ran into a friend and trainer who worked with me when he had time. Chad Streicher used to be my hairdresser until he gave up the beauty business to become a body builder and personal trainer. In a way, he really hadn’t given up the beauty business. He had just changed his focus.

He challenged me to a session of kickboxing. I was tired, but aggression was the perfect outlet for the mood I was in.

After he trounced me, he said, “What happened to the days when you could kick my ass?”

“I already wore myself out on the elliptical machine.”

He laughed. “Excuses, excuses. You could use an energy drink.”

He dragged me off to the juice bar and ordered me some kind of super energy concoction. Served in a tall clear glass, it was a vivid green.
Loaded with caffeine
and sugar, no doubt.
“What is this?” I asked.

“My specialty. Kale and apple with green tea and a large scoop of vanilla protein powder.”

I wiped perspiration off my face with a towel and sipped. “Hm. Tastes better than it looks. This is
your
recipe?”

“Sure is. Good, huh? I push it to all of my victims. So, whatcha been doing?”

Hah. If you only knew
. I rarely discussed my personal life with anyone except Ashley. “Same old, same old. What’s new with you?”

He smiled and gave me a shy look. “Um, met a new friend.”

For him, a new friend was a boyfriend. “Really? How did that happen?”

“I got introduced to him at a party Saturday night. We really hit it off. He invited me home with him. It was a one-time-deal, but…” He shrugged and grimaced.

“That wasn’t a good idea?” I sipped more. I was feeling better.

He gave a huge sigh. “Is a one-night-stand ever a good idea?”

Ouch
. Today, that question hurt.

“I really like him and I think he likes me,” Chad went on. “I want him to respect me, but since I went home with him when I’d just met him, I’m afraid he’ll think I just fuck everybody.”

Crap!
I stared into my glass, the green liquid suddenly looking less than fortifying. “That’s a common problem, no matter which gender you like.”

“Oh, my God, Miranda. Why did you say that? Did you fall off the wagon?”

I had forgotten that Chad was almost psychic and besides that, he knew me well. I shook my head and looked away, swallowing back the burn behind my eyes.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Miranda. You need to cut yourself some slack.”

“I don’t know what I need. But something I don’t need is to spend the night with someone if it’s going to make me feel like this.”

“Stop beating yourself up, babygirl. Everyone needs a human touch now and then.”

I nodded. “You can’t un-spill milk, right?”

“So who was the lucky dude?”

“Business associate. From out of town, thank God. I’ll never see him again. You wouldn’t know him.”

Chad’s brows climbed up his forehead. “Uh-oh. Hope he isn’t married.”

Me, too
. Tack had said he had no wife, but did I believe him? “I don’t think so. But who knows?”

“Chin up, babygirl. It’s his loss….You still doing that infomercial this week?”

My agent had gotten me a gig for my face to be used to promote a new skin care product a Dallas dermatologist wanted to market. A first for me. When he had approached me, wary of having products with which I was unfamiliar slathered all over my face, I said no. But in the end, I had succumbed to the money.

I closed my eyes and sucked up the last of my energy drink, making a loud slurping sound. I nodded. “Thursday and Friday.”

Chad picked up the end of my pony tail. “Then before you do that, you need to go see Ashley, sweetie. Your ends are split. You need a trim and conditioning in the worst way.”

“I know. I’ve got an appointment at two.”

I went home, showered, put on my jeans and a sweater and threw a change of clothes, my sleep clothes and some toiletries in a weekend bag. Then I stashed my tip money in my purse and headed for the beauty salon owned by Ashley Harrison. She was more than my BFF. She was my go-to girl when it came to men and sex. Being seven years older than I, she was more like a big sister. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks.

Ashley’s shop, Tangles, was located in a nondescript strip center, but on the inside, it looked like an elegant Grecian temple. It was small and intimate, with only three other stylists besides her. It had a spa in the back room. Hairstyles or nails or spa treatments from Tangles didn’t come at bargain basement prices.

Ashley greeted me with a hug. I took a seat in her chair and she draped me with a black plastic cape, giving me a big grin in the mirror. She was all Italian—deep brown eyes, full red lips, flawless olive skin and a cloud of black hair she wore in a long curly-all-over do. Everyone told her she looked like Cher. She had been transplanted in Texas as an infant when her parents moved here from New Jersey. She was the best hairdresser I had ever had.

“So what are we doing for you today, Miss Miranda?”

“Nothing exotic. I’m doing that infomercial on Thursday and Friday, you know, so I think simple is best. Also, I’m pressed for time. I’m driving to Roundup when I leave here. My little sister has lost control of Mom again.

“Uh-oh. Sounds dangerous.”

“Tell me about it.” We walked together to her shampoo room.

On Mondays, she didn’t have a shampoo girl. I took a seat at a shampoo bowl and she doused my head with warm water. I closed my eyes and drifted into my own little Nirvana as she proceeded to massage my tension away. I loved having my hair shampooed, especially by Ashley. Magic lived in her fingers.

“Can’t wait to hear what you think of that skin doctor’s product,” she said. “I looked it up online. It’s very expensive.”

“I know. He’s got it set up to sell on TV and the Internet with one of those subscription programs.”

“Find out if he’s going to market it in any shops. My ladies might be customers for something like that. For that matter, I’ve got guys inquiring about skin care. It’s a big thing with men now.”

I instantly thought of Gabe Mathison who was more concerned about his appearance than I was about mine.

“So what’s going on with your mom?” Ashley asked.

“Same old thing. She was almost okay taking pills every day, but she woke up one day in the last few weeks and decided not to. I just found out about it.”

“Lisa didn’t let you know?”

“No, but I can’t be mad at her. She doesn’t get it where Mom’s concerned. I don’t think she ever tries to learn anything about bipolar disorder. It’s like she’s in denial.”

“That is so sad, Miranda. I know you worry about her all of the time. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. I have to go out there and take a look at the situation. I have to think about Lisa, too.” Now Ashley was working her magic on my neck with strong fingers. “Oh, God, Ash, that feels so good.”

She rinsed my hair, then applied something that smelled like coconut. “Hm. That smells like we should be eating it instead of putting it on our hair. Listen, seems like ages since we’ve talked. Is Angelo still moving in with you?”

“Next week. It’ll be nice having a sexy guy who knows his ass from first base in my bed every night. At least he’s Italian.”

Angelo was a hot body and all male, all the time. He owned a successful restaurant construction business and traveled half the time. He had been trying to establish something more permanent with Ashley for several years.

Ashley continued. “But I haven’t shared living quarters with another human being since I was married to Josh Harrison, who wasn’t Italian, by the way. And that was a real long time ago.”

Ashley was a thirty-five-year-old independent woman with a fiery temperament. When it came to men, her BS tolerance quotient was at basement-level. She had a skepticism streak a mile wide.

“Now, Ash. You know Angelo loves you. You have to give him a chance.”

“Hah. It might not last a week. This is a very big deal for me. I’m going to have to kick Buffy Ann out of my bed, poor baby. Angie says he doesn’t like a large rat sleeping with us. I hope hurting Buffy Ann’s feelings turns out to be worth it.”

Buffy Ann was a demanding Yorkshire terrier that might weigh five pounds soaking wet. Ashley unrepentantly spoiled her. I smiled in the mirror. “And he’ll learn to love Buffy Ann, too.”

“We’ll see. How did the thing for Drake Lockhart go? I hear the real estate market is getting hot again. Lots of rich people coming from out of state and falling all over themselves to spend their money, am I right?”

From out of nowhere, tears flooded my eyes. My purse sat on my lap. I grabbed it and pawed inside for a Kleenex.

Ashley paused, her eyes wide with concern. “Miranda, what’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “I’m okay. Ignore me.”

I fell into a full-fledged wail, sopping tears from my eyes with a tattered Kleenex. “I screwed up so bad, Ashley. Saturday, I met this guy at Skyline. He’s a friend of Drake’s. He was just so damn good-looking and sexy. He came on to me hard. I thought we had a connection. Oh, Ash, I let myself be seduced. I spent the night with him at the Hilton. I did things with him I’ve never done with any man, not even Donald.”

“Oh, Donald Sloan.
Phfft
.” She flopped her hand at me. “If you hadn’t told me so, I wouldn’t have believed he even had a dick.”

Ashley had never been a big fan of Donald’s. She sat me upright in the chair and wrapped my head with a thick towel. “I thought you hated men these days.”

“I do.”

“So why are you crying? It didn’t go well or what?”

“It was wonderful.
He
was wonderful. He rocked my world all the way to my toes. I thought something clicked and I would hear from him again. But he hasn’t called me. I guess, to him, it was nothing more than a quick fuck while he was out of town.” I gave a deep sniff.