Flirting With Fire (Hometown Heroes) (9 page)

“We weren’t even
trying this time,” she whispered. “I just don’t know. What if it gets to be too
much?”

My hands stilled
and I leaned down to wrap my best friend in a gentle embrace. “Are you kidding
me? You’ve got Ron, and your parents, and his parents, and me.”

“And me.”

“Yes, and Mitch,”
I added. “Why, there’s plenty of help to go around.”

Her hands
reached up and stilled mine. “You promise you’ll be here to help?”

And just like
that, the hope I had of convincing her it’d be good for me to move to Fort Wayne faded. In her panicked state, the last thing I wanted to do was throw her a
curve ball like that. So I did what I always do—I told her what she wanted to
hear.

“Of course I
will.”

CHAPTER
8

“You look like
someone just ran over your puppy, Liz. Everything okay?”

I looked up from
the handwritten note I held in my hand to meet Tony’s gaze. “Uh, yeah. Just an unexpected
change in my schedule today. No big deal.”

Unexpected and disappointing.
And that I found Torrunn’s rescheduled appointment disappointing worried me. Sure,
I’d enjoyed the replay in my head all weekend of him and his drool-worthy body.
But for me to stand here and be all bummed out that he wasn’t coming in today
had me wondering about Sarah’s accusation from the weekend.
Was
I
crushing on him?

No. No way. That
wasn’t like me. I was far too professional to go and do something as stupid as
that. Look, touch, but don’t think beyond the walls of the massage room—so goes
the life of a massage therapist.

Probably it was
just the frowny face Brittany put at the end of the note that Torrunn had
swapped today’s appointment for one on Wednesday. And PMS. Yeah, it was getting
to be about that time, right?

“Hmm, what time
just opened up?”

“My three
o’clock.” I stuffed the note into my schedule book and set it down.

A smile reached
Tony’s eyes. “Well, I might be able to help you pass the time.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm, hmm. See,
I happen to know a certain someone whose back is
absolutely,
” he put a
hand to his mid-back and grimaced, “
killing
them. And I also know a
certain massage therapist who could use a little pampering in exchange for her
services.”

“I’d be happy to
work on your back, Tony. But you don’t have to give me anything in return.
Really.”

“Nonsense! I
don’t take handouts.” He winked, then stepped closer and ran both his hands
through my hair. “And if you can get these kinks out of my back, I just might
be ready to take on
this
project.”

Insecurity
reared its ugly head. Yep, had to be PMS. “You think I need a change?”

“I wouldn’t call
it a change, so much as a reveal. You really sell your appearance short, dear.”

I rolled my eyes
and exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Well, yeah, at
work
.
I’m a massage therapist. Half of my clients don’t even lay eyes on me.”

Tony tut-tutted
me. “Just because you think people aren’t looking doesn’t make you invisible,
Liz darling. And trust me, you’re far too beautiful for the world to allow you
to be invisible.”

Beautiful? When
was the last time I’d been called that? I tried to read Tony’s face, to find
any hint of humor, but his gaze remained intent on my hair. He studied my split
ends for a moment, then stepped back and put a hand to his chin. I scowled, half
expecting him to reach back out and inspect my teeth.

“Okay, look. If
I consider letting you touch my hair—and I’m not saying I will, mind you—what
would you do to it?”

“A new cut,” he
said without hesitation. “This one is so…1995. Seriously, who even does that
cut anymore?”

My best
friend. Who’s rather hormonal right now, and would kill me if she knew I was considering
letting someone else touch my hair...

He walked a circle
around me. “And color. Definitely some color, to brighten it up.”

“Oh, I haven’t
colored my hair in years.”

Mostly because I
was scared to death to let Sarah do it again. That last time had not gone well,
not well at all. I still had nightmares about those highlights.

“Trust me. I can
tell.”

“But, I kinda
like this color.” I grabbed two handfuls of my light brown hair. It’d taken
years to grow those platinum highlights out.

Years.

Tony threw me
disbelieving look. “Liz, Liz, Liz. What are we going to do with you?”

“Really, I’d be
fine with you doing nothing. I’m good. Honest.”

“Uh, huh. Tell
you what—you fix my back, I’ll fix your self-esteem.”

My cheeks
warmed. “I thought we were talking about my hair?”

“We are.”

“Then what makes
you think I need help with my self-esteem?”

A knowing smile stretched
across his lips. “It was the pout you wore when you read that note,” he said,
pointing back to my schedule book. “And the sag in your shoulders that
followed.”

Tony bent down
to bring his mouth level with my ear but kept his eyes straight ahead. “He
deserves someone better than Bunni, Liz. Someone more like…you.”

He knew? Even I
didn’t know. I swallowed hard and tried to keep my face neutral.

“I think you’ve
read me all wrong. I don’t develop feelings for my clients, Tony.” I shook my
head back and forth, then shook it again a little faster to reinforce the point.
“Ever. Some I just enjoy spending time with more than others.”

“Ah, but you’re
wrong. I’m very good at reading people. Sometimes, even better than they are at
reading themselves.” He straightened up and winked at me. “Your room, three
o’clock?”

He walked away,
then, leaving me to stew about what he’d said. How? How had he figured it out?
I did my best to act casual around Torrunn outside the massage room. Tried to
ignore him, in fact. Especially if Bunni was around.

Bunni.

Crap. If Tony
knew I was crushing on Torrunn just based on simple observations, did Bunni? And
was I even crushing on him?

At that moment,
Bunni walked into the break room. I watched her closely, to see if I could pick
up on any resentment or suspicion on her part. She stopped beside her cubby,
pulled out a few supplies, then turned to leave again. And, as usual, she was
doing her very best to pretend I didn’t exist.

“Hey, Bunni.
How’s your day going?”

Her pace didn’t
falter as she continued on to the door. “Fine.”

“Here, let me
get the door for you.”

“Don’t bother.
I’m not helpless, you know.”

She shifted the
bottles of polish and polish remover in her grasp, her chin raised high. The
superiority act worked, until a bottle of polish decided to break free from her
hands. I dove forward, and managed to catch the tiny bottle before it hit the
ground.

Bunni stopped
long enough to snatch it from my hand.

“Give me that,”
she said, then used a pinky finger to pull open the door enough to wedge her
foot in the opening. She nudged the door open further, then passed on through.

The door glided
shut behind her, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Because if her behavior was
any indication, Bunni didn’t suspect me of anything more than being the person
who stole the temp massage therapist position from her. And that air of hatred
I could live with.

I mean
seriously, what harm could she possibly do?

* * * *

I woke up the
next morning and gave serious thought to calling in sick. Tony had me down for
his first appointment of the day. A make-over. Me.

With a heavy
sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. No sense in getting
fired my second week on the job over a little haircut—even if I knew said
haircut had the potential to send my pregnant best friend into a WWIII-level
tirade.

The second I
walked into the spa, Tony pounced on me like a hungry wolf on its prey. No way
was he going to allow me time to weasel out of our agreement. Even so, when he
offered to take my purse, I hesitated.

“Having second
thoughts, are we?”

“No.” I thrust
my purse at him.

“Liar.”

“That’s the
second time in the past week I’ve been labeled with that, and it’s simply not
true.”

“There are
different kinds of liars in this world, Lizzie dear.” He set my purse down on
the far side of his area, then ushered me into his stylist chair. “Habitual
liars lie even when the truth fits better. Circumstantial liars lie when they
feel backed into a corner with no way out. And relational liars lie to keep
those around them happy. You, my dear, are a relational liar.”

“But—!”

“Ah, ah! No
arguing while the genius is at work.”

My cheeks were
on fire. “And who would that be?”

Tony ignored my
comment, and draped a large, purple apron over me. “Now I know you voiced some
reservations about color yesterday, but, well, I need you to trust me.”

“You call me out
and
then
ask me to trust you?”

“Don’t take it
so personally, Liz. I can’t help it that you’re a liar.”

“I am
not
a liar!”

His right
eyebrow tweaked upward.

“I’m not.” I
folded my arms across my chest. “So maybe sometimes I go along with what people
are saying instead of arguing about it. But that’s only because I like to
choose my battles wisely. Agreeing with people to avoid an argument doesn’t
make me a liar.”

“No, that would
make you spineless.” He held a hand out in front of me to stop the oncoming backlash.
“Not that I would ever call you that. However, until you prove differently to
me, I may start calling you my pretty little liar.”

I seriously
considered ripping off the stupid apron, shoving it down his throat, and
marching out the door. But seeing as I desperately needed this job, I unfolded
my arms and took several deep breaths instead. Up until now, of all my new coworkers,
Tony had been by far the nicest to me. Maybe being brutally honest was just his
nature.

“If I let you
color my hair, will you stop with all this liar b.s.?”

His mouth
quirked into a grin. “If you let me do to your hair what I have in my mind, I
can virtually guarantee you’ll be well on your way to overcoming this silly
condition of yours.”

Silly condition,
my ass. What was so wrong with trying to keep the peace? So what if I’d been
burned on that strategy a time or two? Better to suffer a little disappointment
here and there than to be fighting with people all the time, right?

“Hey, Bunni?” Brittany called back from the front desk. “Tory’s on the phone for you.”

Tory.

Torrunn hated
his pet name, or so he’d mumbled in his last appointment. You’d think his
girlfriend would respect that. My gaze shifted away from Brittany and back to
Tony who, I should mention, was watching me like a hawk. Yep, busted again.

Tony spun me
around so that I faced his large mirror. Did I really need a boost to my
self-esteem? The single, frazzled-looking woman who’d struck out on far too
many relationships the past year stared back at me and nodded. Besides, I had
an appointment with Jessica somebody at lunch about the website—why not look
good for my photo op?

Please,
Sarah, don’t hate me forever.

“Alright, Tony.
Let’s do this.”

* * * *

I should know
better than to expect any level of privacy, living in a town as small as ours.
Especially having lived there, in essence, my whole life. But when I got back
into Autumn Lake that evening, I was so preoccupied with trying to plan out the
safest way to bring up my new look with Sarah that I forgot to hide my new ‘do’.

‘Sexy’ is what
Tony called it. ‘Swanky’, Kim had said.

‘Death by Sarah’
was all that came to my mind.

My hair now had
more layers than I knew what to do with. And bangs! I hadn’t had bangs in
years! Tony had said something about it softening my look, drawing attention to
my blue eyes. But his words had been lost on me. I’d been in too much shock at
the transformation to fully comprehend any of it. No, my focus had been on the
cut, and the beautiful colors woven all throughout my formerly drab locks.
Never would I have dreamed of putting red in any capacity in my hair, and yet
the auburn lowlights were by far my favorite.

Once I was able
to peel my misty-eyed gaze from the mirror, I’d turned and sputtered what felt
like an entirely insufficient pledge of thanks to Tony. He’d simply handed me a
tissue and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“You were
already beautiful on the inside, Liz. I just helped you see it on the outside
today as well.”

Beautiful.
Me.

I shook my head
and parked my car in a spot closest to my first floor apartment, eyes misty
again from the memory. A light spring rain had begun to fall. I scurried
inside, trying to preserve the best hair day of my life.

But the question
now was: do I show it off, or stay hidden for a few days? No sense in hiding
for long, I realized as I stripped out of my jacket. Jessica Hartley had
snapped several pictures of me outside the spa after our lunch date, and had
promised to upload that and my bio within the next day or two. Now if I could
just come up with the perfect excuse to tell Sarah…

I stopped in
front of the hall mirror and checked my new look once more. My hair looked so
different than when I’d left this morning. Jessica had loved it, too. Her hair
was darker than mine, and a little shorter, but what was so interesting about
her style was the story that went along with it. She’d actually gone from
dishwater blonde to more auburn than I had, as part of an undercover
investigation last fall.

“But I thought
you were a web designer?” I’d asked.