“Um . . . that was no haircut. That was foreplay. It’s so hot in here that I’m about to have to go relieve myself in the bathroom.”
My brow knitted. “Are you always so gross?”
“Are you always in denial?” she shot back.
Three months ago, I’d come into Melissa’s salon, ready to beg for a job or to rent a station, even though I hadn’t actually cut hair in eight years, and even then, I hadn’t done it for very long.
But for some reason, I’d always maintained my license. Maybe I’d known all along that I needed that security.
Really, the only thing I needed was an address. A place of employment to put on those forms. Something that would say that I was both working hard and doing my best to make ends meet.
Something that made me look like an upstanding citizen.
Not a thief.
She’d had a station available.
We were about as opposite as opposites could be, but we’d formed some semblance of a friendship after Reed had come in here one day, acting the asshole, trying to back me into a corner. He’d tossed his power and influence all around, as if it was going to sway me, make me forget what I’d seen and the things that he’d done.
The second he’d left, she’d come running over, holding me while I’d tried to stay standing in the wake of his threats.
I gave a small shrug. “It was nothin’. On Saturday night, I lost my wallet and bracelet. He found them and brought them back to me.”
I waved my wrist in front of her face as proof.
She grinned like I was offering her a date with David Beckham, the girl basically salivating at the mouth.
“So, what you’re tellin’ me is the guy who found your things is a bad-boy Chris Pine. Maybe even more delicious, and that shit should not be possible. I mean, did you see him? All posh and suave with those tats peeking out? He’s like a present just begging to be unwrapped. Yes-fucking-please.”
A little jolt of possessiveness nudged at me before I rolled my eyes at Melissa. “Go for it.”
“Hello . . . I wasn’t talking about for myself.” She patted my shoulder. “My girl here obviously needs a little lovin’. When’s the last time you had yourself a nice big O that you didn’t give yourself? It’s just plain sad, especially when that man clearly wants to be the one doing the honors.”
I kept sweeping up that hair, doing my best not to mourn for it as I guided the pile to the stationary vacuum against the wall. “And you’re the one giving advice on the topic when you were the one who was just talking about taking matters into her own hands?”
She wagged a tattooed finger at me. “You know what, you’re right. There are much better alternatives. Leo’s is just around the corner. I’m sure there would be something yummy there to help me out. You could join me or go after Bad Boy Kirk.”
“Neither of those things are an option for me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “And why is it you have to go by jackass’s rules?”
That was what happened when jackasses always had the upper hand.
“You know why.”
Except she didn’t know everything. I’d never put her in that kind of position.
She pushed out a frustrated sigh. “It’s so . . . unfair. It makes me want to scream.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve done plenty of screaming for the both of us. But screaming doesn’t help anything. So, I do the only thing that I can.”
“But he’d never even know,” she all but whined. “This opportunity is too good to waste.”
“Your point is moot, anyway. I don’t even know his name or have any way to contact him.”
She reached around me and snagged the card from my station.
The little snake.
She narrowed her dark eyes in some kind of devious glee. “Liar.”
I groaned. “Give that back.”
She waved it in my face, jumping around, the girl shorter than me by about five inches, wearing her skin-tight black leathers and a corset. I had half a mind just to tackle her.
“I thought you said you didn’t want it.” She sang it while she continued to jump around and tease.
I snatched it right out of her hand.
She smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
I frowned at her and then looked at the number. Looked at the name. I wished I had the space, the capacity, to be wild for a little bit.
Be reckless and make bad choices.
But all my bad choices had already been made.
Seven
Ian
I slipped into the dark, secluded booth, the lights hazy and low in the cavernous space.
I shot off a few texts to Jace with the pictures and information he was looking for.
The building was shit.
Rundown.
Dilapidated.
The poor employees filing out at the end of the day looked every bit as bad.