“He keeps it on the down-low. Like I said, he’s got layers.” She shrugged and then got back to the matter at hand. “I’m afraid he or someone else could get hurt. Drugs have a way of escalating to bigger, scarier problems.”
“Do you want to pass Danny off to me or Pascal?” he asked very seriously.
“No, of course not.” She bit her lip. “Unless you think I can’t handle it.”
Standing, Jamie came around her desk and perched on top. He took her hand in both of his. “Ms. Lottie, you can handle anything. I just don’t want to put you in a bad place.”
“I don’t want to fail Danny,” she admitted. Failing Danny meant failing herself.
“You can’t make someone change or do something they don’t want. That’s out of your hands,” he pointed out gently.
She made a face. “Ihatethat.”
Chuckling under his breath, he smiled at her. “That’s why I wanted you here, because you care. And because you can see the whole playing field and how to navigate it to get to the goal line.” He kissed her cheek. “You’ve got this, but both Didier and I are here if you need our help.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “You’ll be the first I go running to.”
“Good.” He stood. “Take the afternoon off. Sometimes a change of scenery and pace is great for clearing the mind. You might see everything differently if you change your perspective.”
“Great idea, boss.” She knew just what she was going to do—get a haircut.
She’d been going to the same hairdresser for the past forty years. She loved Dolores but Dolores only saw her as she used to be—only a grandmother—and not who she was now—a modern woman with direct deposit and fancy underthings.
But there was a slick hair salon down the street where no one knew her history, where she’d be able to start with a clean slate and hope that someone saw everything inside her that was waiting to burst out.
The only problem was she didn’t have an appointment.
The part of her that didn’t want to impose on anyone wavered, but then she remembered the way Danny had come to the office, expecting that he’d be seen in his confident but not arrogant way. She’d be able to do that, she was sure. Putting on her new coat, she grabbed her bag and headed there, thinking positive.
It was a flurry of activity and chatter when she stepped inside the salon. Some sort of modern music was playing in the background, giving a heartbeat to the salon’s soundtrack. People milled and bustled in various states, with black capes and foil in their hair.
Except for its glossiness, it was just like any other salon she’d ever been in. She relaxed as she realized that.
The girl at the front desk of the salon smiled at her in welcome. “Can I help you?”
“I’m very hopeful that you can.” Lottie smiled back at the girl. “Is there anyone who’d be free for a haircut?”
The girl looked around with a frown. “We usually do a consultation first, but let me ask Pablo.”
Lottie looked around the salon, wondering which one Pablo was.
The girl picked up the receiver and spoke quietly into it. Then she replaced it and smiled at Lottie again. “Pablo will be right out. Can I get you something to drink while you wait? Coffee? Water?”
“No, thank you.” She stepped aside, expecting to wait a long time, but it was just a matter of seconds before a man came out of the woodwork. She knew it was Pablo because the tattoo scrolling up his arm said so.
She supposed that was convenient if one got amnesia.
Pablo wore all black and had spiky black hair. He should have looked like a vampire, but when he smiled it transformed his entire face.
Just goes to show you should never judge a book by its cover.She wondered if he’d judge her book.
His gaze roamed over her head as he held out his hand. “I’m Pablo.”
“Lottie.” She shook his hand. “I need new hair.”
He shook his head, reaching out to rake his fingers through her curls. “Your hair is fab. You just need some love on it. Come on back, dear, and I’ll tell you what I see.”
She clasped her hands to her chest. Her word for this moment wasgratitude. “I can’t wait.”