“Okay, I have to go before I start crying like an idiot.” Unexpectedly, the tears had started to burn the back of her eyes, which was stupid because she’d known from the beginning she would be leaving now. Life here had gotten so much more complicated than she’d ever dreamed.
She briefly waved to everyone scattered around the bar, careful not to look at Cody, then rushed to the door. Her heated cheeks welcomed the crisp air and she didn’t care that she had no coat, just her tweed suit jacket.
Two cabs on the corner both had passengers and no others were in sight, so she started walking toward Lexington. The light turned red and she slowed down, wrapping her arms around herself. A huge chapter in her life had just ended. An unsatisfying chapter. Not just because being normal hadn’t been all she’d dreamed it would be, but mostly because of Cody.
“Sara…wait.”
Had she imagined his voice? She looked over her shoulder. Cody hurried toward her, his shoulders hunched against the chill, his hands in his pockets. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. His gaze held her rooted to the spot even as pedestrians swirled around her.
He caught up with her and, taking her by the arm, steered her out of the way toward the bank that took up most of the block. Partially sheltered from the sharp wind that whipped through the canyon of high-rises, she shrunk closer to the gray brick building as she tamped down her foolish hope.
“Did I forget something?” she asked, breathless, annoyed that his face was in shadow.
“No, I did.” He pulled a small Tiffany box out of his pants’ pocket and held it out to her.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
“But I—” Her heart pounded so hard he had to be able to hear it. All of Manhattan could. “Is this from you?”
He glanced around and pushed a hand through his short, sandy-brown hair. “From the firm. For doing such a good job.”
“Really?” She took the box, her hand shaking a little because she knew he was lying and it made her angry. Couldn’t he be candid for one moment? Not even on her last night in New York?
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asked when she slipped it into her bag.
“Later.”
He exhaled loudly, cursed, then took a step closer. “It’s from me.”
The smile began in the pit of her stomach and how it managed to pass through the tightness in her chest, she couldn’t imagine. She should be angry. Furious. He was too late. Whatever was in the box would change nothing. Her time was up. She had to go back to Atlanta.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
She slid her arms around his neck and got up on tiptoe. “This is from me,” she whispered and brought her mouth to his, running her tongue across his lower lip.
His arms came around her and he pulled her against him. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth with passion. She kissed him back with equal intensity even though tears threatened.
Damn him.
She pulled away and was lucky enough to hail a taxi.
She slid inside and wouldn’t look back. What was the point? He’d blown their chance. She’d never see him again.
1
T HE CHIC SALON was still decorated in its signature rose color, each workstation large and private. An abundance of fresh flowers graced the lobby and lounge where juice, Evian and wine were served to the prominent and wealthy clients while they donned silk robes and waited for their grooming services. Not a thing had changed in a year. Only Sara.
“Girl, I don’t know what that guy did to you.”
Sara lifted her horrified gaze to her hairdresser’s reflection in the mirror. How could Chloe possibly know about Cody? No one knew. Except Sara’s sister. And the ladies from Eve’s Apple, the Web site where women went to vent or ask advice about men, anonymously if they chose.
“I could’ve given you a better cut with my eyes closed.”
Sara relaxed. As much as she could. Her nerves were shot from lack of sleep. She’d only been back in Atlanta for a month, but with all the family obligations it seemed like a year.
“I can’t believe you’ve been walking around like this. You should’ve come to see me as soon as you got back.” Chloe’s hair was red this month, her green eyes rimmed with too much black. “Everybody makes a big deal out of New York and L.A. hairdressers. They treat them like frackin’ gurus.” She held up a thick blond lock of Sara’s hair and frowned at the dry ends. “How much did you pay for this highlighting?”
“None of your business.”
“Come on.”
Her experience in New York hadn’t lived up to her expectations. In fact, it’d gone bad. All she’d wanted was to live like anyone else. Earn her keep. What she hadn’t counted on was meeting Cody Shea, and having her life turned upside down. She thought about him way too much as it was, she had no desire to talk about it, not even with Chloe. “Would you forget it, already?”
“How many years have I been doing your hair? How many boyfriends have we gone through together?”
Sara raised her eyebrows.
“Okay, so they were all mine. The point is, I tell you everything.”
“Yes, you do. Whether I want to hear it or not.”
Chloe grinned. “Speaking of which, guess where I’m going tonight?” She paused, and before Sara could hazard a guess, she said, “The French Riviera.”
“Just for the weekend?”
“No, for a whole week. It’s our annual convention.”
“Are we talking hairdressers or nudists?”
“Please.” Chloe set the mixed color solution aside and got out the foil squares. “Like I’d fork out that much money to spend the week with a bunch of prima donnas who think they know more about hair than I do.”
“Of course not.” Smiling, Sara watched her strategically choose strands to highlight and then clip them off to the side.
In the ten years that Sara had known Chloe, she’d gone from a cosmetology graduate to one of Atlanta’s most popular and expensive hairstylists. Admittedly, discovering that Chloe was a nudist had been somewhat of a surprise. Sara couldn’t grasp the attraction. Running around naked, in the stark sunlight, every flaw on full display. The thought alone gave her the vapors.
“Shelby still in Europe?”
“Last I heard. But you know how my sister is.”
“I haven’t read about her in the local papers lately so I figured she was still out of town. Hey, is that a new bracelet?”
Sara automatically touched the row of abstract gold hearts, unwanted memories filling her head. Stupid to even wear the thing, but she hadn’t taken it off since that night. “I got it in New York.”
“But you hate bracelets. You don’t even like wearing a watch.”
“Don’t go too light,” Sara said, eyeing the bowl of color solution Chloe had dipped the brush in and started to work on the pre-selected strands.
“You’re a natural blonde. How light can I go?” Chloe said, as she wrapped a square of foil around the strand.
Sara said nothing. All she’d really wanted to do was distract Chloe from the bracelet. She glanced down at it. Were those really hearts or was that what she wanted to see? She’d browsed in Tiffany’s often, and even had several of the store’s signature gifts given to her tucked away in her drawers, but she’d never seen this style.
“You gonna get that?” Chloe nudged her chin toward the cell phone Sara had left on the counter. The ringing cell phone.
She’d been expecting an important call from her father and grabbed the phone before the call went to voice mail. The second she pushed the button she saw that the call was from New York. Too late. She had to answer. Anyway, it could be Dakota. “Hello?”
“Sara.”
Except that it was Cody. Her throat constricted. For a second she couldn’t speak.
“Sara?”
“Yes.” She looked at Chloe who was staring at her with curiosity. “Um, could you hold on a moment?” She lowered the phone to her side so that he couldn’t hear and struggled to her feet, getting tangled in the cape and tugging it from around her neck.