Infamous Love

by Lea Coll

  “Sorry I’m early. I was so excited to see everything finished.”

  I turned to find Piper, a petite woman with blonde hair, standing just inside the door, looking around in amazement. “It looks spectacular.”

  In Los Angeles, I wouldn’t have trusted a statement like that. I would assume a jealous, snide comment was coming next. Everything about this woman’s expression, from her wide eyes to her parted lips, was genuine. It was refreshing.

  “I’m so glad you could come.”

  “Oh my gosh. Look at this cutie.” She knelt on the floor as Crew licked her face.

  “Sorry. I was going to put him upstairs before our interview.” Having a dog in the shop for the interview was probably unprofessional, though she didn’t seem to mind.

  She stood, brushing his yellow fur off her black pants. “Like I said, I’m early. He’s adorable.”

  Piper was so easygoing, the tension I’d held in my shoulders eased. “Do you want to head over to the coffee shop for the interview?”

  “Do we need to? We can talk here.” She sat in one of the maroon leather chairs meant for clients, spinning until she faced me.

  “That’s fine.” I leaned a hip against the counter, appreciating her confidence. “Are you still working at Bliss and Bang?”

  “I’ve been working there for five years. I’m ready for something new, something different.”

  The sign for the shop had scissors in place of the and. Curious, I’d stopped inside Bliss and Bang when I first scouted locations for the barbershop. It had a spa-like atmosphere with wood floors, paneling, fresh paint, and modern I. The salon wasn’t competition. Its clientele was different. I was confident there were enough customers for both businesses.

  I wanted to be sure she understood we wouldn’t have any female clientele. “Do you have experience with men’s cuts? That’s all you’ll be doing here. If highlights are your thing—”

  Her eyes held a gleam of excitement as she stroked the soft leather of the chair. “I do have experience with men’s cuts. I like what you’re doing here. I think this barbershop is unique. I want to be part of something new and exciting.”

  My gut feeling was Piper would be good for the shop, and good for me. I cleared my throat, hoping she was right. “Do you have your list of references?”

  “Right here.” She stood, pulling a piece of paper out of her bag, smoothing it out before placing it on the countertop.

  She listed her cosmetology school, her licenses, then her job at the salon. I hoped the salon owner didn’t get upset that I was taking one of their stylists.

  “The owners of the salon won’t mind you leaving to work here?” I tilted my head, considering her. She was confident, had the experience, and would be personable with the clientele.

  Her smile was easy. “No. The owners know I’ve been looking for a change.”

  “Do you have any questions for me?”

  “I remember you saying you’re from LA. Do you plan to run the shop, or will you hire a manager down the road?”

  The thought of going back to LA made my stomach uneasy. “No. I plan to manage it. If you’re sure about working here, I’d like to offer the position to you.”

  Piper covered her chest with her hand. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I think you’ll fit in here just fine. I’m hoping you can help me with the locals.”

  Piper seemed surprised I’d offered her the job on the spot. Maybe she wasn’t used to people taking chances on her. I had a feeling we could be good friends, and that she’d be a great employee. I didn’t get many opportunities to test my instincts. I wanted to take that leap with her.

  She clasped her hands together. “Thank you so much! You’ve made me so happy.”

  “Are you ready for that coffee now? We can discuss the details.”

  She smiled, her expression friendly.

  A warmth spread through me. Piper was someone who wanted to get a coffee, chat, and possibly be a friend. It was something I hadn’t had since before the show was filmed. Producers advised us only to hang out with the other kids on the show. My friends in school, then later my castmates on the show, were merely acquaintances paid to spend time with me.

  “Sure. I’d like that. Let me put Crew upstairs.” Calling Crew, he followed me up the steps to my apartment above the shop. I grabbed his favorite bacon-flavored treats to entice him into his crate. Locking up, I headed back down to the shop where Piper was admiring the photographs of the renovations on one of the walls. I’d taken the before and after pictures in black and white, giving it a cool feel.

  “I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s classy.” She preceded me out the door.

  “Thank you. I’m happy with it too.” Her easy compliment eased my earlier doubts.

  I’d been worried people wouldn’t accept me here. Even though it was a tourist town, with the ski resort, I’d be living here year-round. I needed to fit in as a local to bring in business during the off-season. Like Dr. Stanton said, I needed them to trust I was here for the long haul, or they wouldn’t invest in my business. I didn’t want to sell my soul to be on TV again.

  Chapter 2

  Gray

  * * *

  My chest felt tight ever since I left my newest client in the exam room. I didn’t know why I took my bad morning out on her. I was raw from performing surgery on a dog who shouldn’t have gotten out of the house, who shouldn’t need surgery or to be looking for another home so early in her young life. By now, I should be used to people’s callous disregard for animals. Whether they could afford vet care or not, I wished they’d ask for help before asking me to put the dog down. It was the one aspect of the job that almost held me back from attending vet school. This morning I offered to pay for the surgery and to find the dog a new home. The owners were pleased with that option.

  When I walked into the exam room, seeing the beautiful young woman with a puppy, a sense of instant familiarity shot through me. When she’d run into me months ago at the bar, I’d been attracted to her dark hair, pale skin, and the shadows under her eyes. She’d looked haunted. I wanted to give in to the desire to pull her closer, to feel the fullness of her lips under mine. Except, she’d been the one to pull away. Assuming she was a tourist, I never thought I’d see her again.

  My heart pounded in my chest as irritation crept down my spine. Annoyed that the first woman I’d been attracted to in a long time was standing in my exam room, all I could see was one more person who thought it would be fun to get a dog until it wasn’t cute anymore or it chewed on her favorite shoes. It was an unfair assumption to make about a woman I didn’t know.

  I hadn’t expected her to be a business owner. The town was buzzing about the new barbershop. The window coverings had come down a week ago. I’d heard it was all exposed brick walls, plush leather chairs, and masculine colors. No one mentioned the owner was a woman―an attractive, young woman.

  When she’d insinuated the appeal was a men’s sanctuary, my heart skipped a beat. We were only a few inches apart, close enough to smell the citrus scent of her shampoo, to count the freckles on her nose. Her hair was in a messy bun, strands curling around her face. My fingers itched to move them back, to test the softness of her skin, to kiss the sensitive spot I knew I’d find on her neck where her sweater hung off her shoulder. Wearing an oversized sweater and leggings encased in practical boots, nothing about her said California or high maintenance.

  She seemed like the quintessential girl next door, sweet and down to earth. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way, people weren’t always who they appeared to be.

  I grabbed the file for my next client, pushing open the exam room door at the same time I pushed out thoughts of Elle Carmichael. I had no need for high-priced barbershops when my friend, Henry’s sister, Piper, cut my hair at home.

  At the end of the day, I shut down my computer. Ed Bester―the owner of the clinic―walked in wearing his white coat, his pepper hair messy.

  He
still saw patients, the stalwarts who’d been going to him for decades. I took on new clients, hoping that when he decided to retire, his clients would transfer to me, not move to the new vet one town over. Telluride was my college friend, Henry’s, hometown. I’d come home with him on the holidays, enjoying his family’s camaraderie and the town’s charm. When I graduated from vet school, he’d told me about the opening at Telluride Animal Clinic. I didn’t have a home to return to, or any clear direction, so it seemed like a good idea at the time.

  The town, and its people, had become a part of me. I wanted to stay, but I was prepared to leave if my past threatened to catch up to me.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” Ed sat in the chair across from me.

  “Sure.” I tensed, worried I’d done something wrong.

  “I’m thinking about retiring.” The tightness in my chest eased, hearing the words I’d been anticipating.

  His pensive face stymied my excitement.

  He held up his finger. “I want to make sure the practice is in good hands. I don’t want it to be sold to someone else who doesn’t share my vision, who’s not a local.” This is what I’d tried to warn Elle Carmichael about this morning. It took a lot for townspeople to accept outsiders.

  After living here for four years, I still wasn’t considered a local. Would not being from Telluride ruin my chances?

  “I don’t have any plans to change anything.” Not drastically anyway. I had visions of expanding, maybe offering space for rescues, a free clinic for vaccines, and annual exams for clients who couldn’t afford to care for their animals. I worried about how Ed would react to those suggestions. He was generally resistant to any changes around the office, including updating the computer or filing systems.

  “You went to college in Colorado, but you’re from somewhere on the East Coast, and currently living in an apartment. You haven’t exactly planted roots here. You see my concern?”

  Panic crawled up my throat making it difficult to swallow. I was from Maine. No one besides Henry knew that. Having Ed describe my life in two sentences was unsettling. Was that really all I had to show for the past twelve years since I graduated from high school, leaving with no intentions to return?

  “I’m saving all of my money to buy the practice. I don’t think it makes sense to buy a home when it’s just me, and I don’t have a hometown to return to.” I stopped short of saying I didn’t have family, because technically, I did. “This is my home. The Rigbys are my family, and I have no intention of leaving.”

  I forced a steady breath, trying to calm my pulse. I was afraid of saying anything that might reveal my family’s history. At the same time, I didn’t want to sway him to sell to someone else.

  Ed’s eyebrows drew together. “That may be, but I have to be sure. I want the practice to continue as it is. I want my clients happy after I leave. I don’t want calls in retirement begging me to come back.” He laughed at his last statement, but I knew he was serious.

  When I first started working here, his long-standing clients didn’t want their animals to be seen by a younger vet or someone not from here. They didn’t think I was capable of caring for large animals. “I understand your concern. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you I’m the right person to run the clinic.”

  Ed nodded in approval. “I look forward to that. The second thing is, are you able to buy the practice?”

  “I am.” Pride filled me at that thought. I had some money my father left for me in a trust the government couldn’t touch, and I’d saved carefully over the years, living frugally. I knew better than anyone, material things mean nothing.

  He held up his hands. “I haven’t officially decided, but I’ll have the business valued, so you can go to the bank to show you’re able to purchase it. Then we’ll see where we are.”

  I wanted to ask, what then? What if I had everything ready, but he still didn’t want to sell to me? If he sold to someone else, I didn’t know what I’d do. I had no connections here besides Henry’s family. I wanted to own a vet practice, not work for someone else.

  Ed shifted in his chair, wincing slightly. “There’s one other thing I wanted to talk to you about. You’re a great vet. It’s just that some of the customers feel you’re a little cold. Being a small-town vet means being friendly with the customers, asking about their family, knowing what’s going on in their lives.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. I hadn’t been nice to Elle Carmichael today. I was standoffish, bordering on rude. “I’ll work on that.”

  The words felt like sandpaper in my mouth. I wasn’t friendly. I hadn’t been an easy-going guy since my senior year when the proverbial carpet was ripped out from under me. I’d lost everything. My father, my home, the family business, my girlfriend. I was guilty by association. My reputation ruined at eighteen.

  “See that you do.” Ed stood, leaving me alone in my office.

  My limbs felt heavy. I was so close to reaching my dream, yet so many things still stood in my way.

  The only thing I had to show for myself was the framed degrees on the walls. I’d switched colleges from Maine to Colorado, getting as far away as I could from the headlines and the shame. I could be anyone I wanted to be, as long as my past didn’t catch up to me.

  Telluride’s climate provided opportunities for cold-weather sports, reminding me of my hometown in Maine, yet it was far enough away, hopefully, no one would make the connection to who I was. If someone did, I’d have no choice but to start over somewhere else.

  Chapter 3

  Elle

  * * *

  Piper helped me decorate the shop windows with fall decorations, adding streamers above the mirrors to celebrate the opening. The smell of coffee from The Coffee Cowboy and pastries from Baked in Telluride, permeated the small space, competing with the new leather smell.

  We’d been open all week, waiting for Saturday to hold the official open house. So far, we’d only had a few moms with boys come in during the week. I was discouraged, yet hopeful because it wasn’t a customer base I’d thought too much about. It could be a nice, steady income if kids came in frequently.

  Piper stared out the shop window. “We should do something for the kids when they come in. Give them a toy, or a treat, or something.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “What? Like a toy car or something?”

  She pointed at me, her eyes lighting up. “That would be perfect.”

  “You get the moms in town on board, then their husbands will come in.”

  “You think?” I wanted to avoid women, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me from the show. No one said I looked familiar.

  “I know so.”

  “Okay.” I moved to the computer at the desk, searching for toy cars that could be delivered quickly so they’d be here by Monday or Tuesday.

  “Customers will trickle in because they’re curious, then you’ll get more people from word of mouth.”

  “I hope so.” I had so much riding on this, my savings from the show, my self-worth. For the first time in my life, I was doing something I wanted to be proud of. I couldn’t afford to fail, financially or otherwise.

  As soon as I ordered the toys, a few customers came in all at once. We were busy, intermittently, the rest of the day, which lifted my spirits. Even though the clients seemed like they were just curious about a new person in town, I kept my responses vague. I was from California; I vacationed here as a child, falling in love with the town. I mentioned loving winter sports. They seemed satisfied with that information, not asking more questions.

  I’d worried it would be hard to keep my old life a secret in a place where it was assumed your stylist would talk about their life. Fortunately, they were all surface-level questions so far. A few well-placed questions kept the focus on the client’s lives.

  As the day went on, I began to breathe easier when no one seemed to recognize me. The producers liked me to look a certain way: blonde hair, blue eyes, and expensive clothes―the skimpier, the b
etter. I looked different with my naturally dark hair, minimal make-up, and casual clothing.

  The hype surrounding the show had died down since we went off the air last year. As long as my fellow castmates stayed out of the news, it was unlikely my face would be back on a screen. When I worked at the LA salon, people confronted me about my on-screen, bad girl persona. There’s no way the townspeople would accept me if they knew.

  Piper finished sweeping the floor and cleaning the tools before returning everything to its place. “I think that’s everything. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

  “Thank you so much for your help.” I didn’t know what I would have done without her assistance, her knowledge of the town, or her words of encouragement. I hadn’t been around anyone who lifted me up over the years. Sometimes it felt like the producers’ job was to tear me down, only to build me up into whoever they wanted me to be.

  “You’re welcome. I need this to work as much as you do.” Her expression was sad.

  I refrained from asking her why that was. I respected other people’s desires to keep their problems to themselves, hoping they’d return the favor.

  It was Sunday, the first day of obedience training for Crew. I was excited to get him into class. I’d taken him for a walk to wear him out like the instructor’s email suggested, relieved and at the same time disappointed to see Dr. Stanton wasn’t the instructor.

  Walking Crew was a nice excuse to explore the town and its coffee shop, bakery, bed and breakfasts, and restaurants. You could take the gondola lifts for a scenic route to the village on top of the mountain, skiing back to town.

  Checking the locks on the barbershop one last time, I loaded Crew into my Range Rover for the drive. Even though Anne said the clinic was closed on Sundays, I hoped I’d run into him. Would he look as good as I remembered? I’d thought back to our encounter several times, wondering why he’d reacted so negatively to me.