Dyeing to be Loved (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #1)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  Editing provided by Pam Ebeler of Undivided Editing – www.undividedediting.com

  Proofreading provided by Judy Zweifel of Judy’s Proofreading – www.judysproofreading.com

  Interior Design and Formatting provided by Stacey Ryan Blake of Champagne Formats – www.champagneformats.com

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original publisher only.

  This book contains sexually explicit material and is only intended for adult readers.

  Copyrights and Trademarks:

  Joker – DC Comics

  Sherlock Holmes – Arthur Conan Doyle

  Cadillac – General Motors

  Ford Pinto – Ford Motor Company

  Dynasty – America’s Broadcasting Company

  Mini Cooper – Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft

  Keurig and K-Cup – Keurig Green Mountains

  Dodge Charger – FCA US, LLC

  Facebook – Facebook, Inc.

  HGTV Magazine – Scripps Networks, LLC

  John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever – Warner Bros. Publications

  Cheshire Cat in Alice and Wonderland – The Walt Disney Company

  “Holly Jolly Christmas” – Burl Ives

  Lethal Weapon – Warner Bros. Publications

  Meet the Parents – Universal Pictures and DreamWorks Pictures

  To Nicholas Bella,

  You’re an amazing friend, writer, and human being. I treasure our friendship, our chats, and our TV nights. I’m grateful for you every day and convinced more than ever that God sends the people we need into our lives at just the right time.

  MY DAY STARTED OUT like a typical Friday at my salon, Curl Up and Dye. I drank my coffee and looked around the business with pride that I had built from scratch. I purchased my childhood home from my parents when they retired and moved to Boca Raton, Florida. They offered to sell the house to me, their only child, for what they paid for it in 1975. The grand dame, as I referred to my home, was appraised at nearly $400,000, but my parents sold it to me for just over $60,000. With that much equity, I was able to borrow enough to renovate the first floor into the most beautiful salon.

  I stressed and fretted over every square inch of the design plan making sure it was perfect. I had been miserable in the space I had rented for five years from Harold Kingsley. The man had no vision and would not allow me to make the most minor of enhancements to the building I leased from him. Needless to say, I jumped all over my parents’ offer when they made it. Thanks to them, I could expand my business to make it one of the most popular salons in southern Ohio.

  Gone was the tired, dated look of yesteryears that I had grown up with, and in its place, was a warm space with real mahogany floors and walls that I painted a neutral ivory that allowed the artwork and glamorous accessories throughout the salon to shine and take center stage. Each of my stylist’s stations looked like old Hollywood glam rather than an ordinary booth you’d expect to see at one of those chain salons. I wasn’t running some $5 hair emporium. No! If my name was listed as the proprietor, then people were going to get wowed. They were getting the Cadillac experience when stepping into my salon, not the Ford Pinto.

  Some people drove for an hour to my tiny town in Blissville, Ohio to have their hair styled and get pampered by my staff and me. I passionately loved my job and looked forward to it every day, even though not all clients were created equally. We had our hands full with quite a few of them, but I had yet to meet a woman that I couldn’t win over.

  So, my day might’ve started out like all others, but my harmony and bliss didn’t last much later than noon. My best friend and receptionist, Chaz Hamilton, had been out all week with strep throat. My stylists and I tried to take over his duties the first day he was out but quickly realized that we would be better off if I hired a temp to fill in for him. I called Terry, who ran the only temp agency in our county, and she sent us Krista Howard, who was as sweet as apple pie and fit right in with the rest of us. Unfortunately, she committed the one cardinal sin of our salon.

  I put a message at the top of our scheduling calendar on the computer that said: Never Book Georgia Beaumont and Nadine Beaumont on the same day. Ever!!!! It was written in bold letters, was underlined, and had many exclamation marks to show its importance. It appeared at the top of the calendar every single month because Chaz could sometimes be a spaz and forget things. Nadine and Georgia in the same room was something I wanted to avoid at all costs, so I wrote it out plainly for everyone to see. I couldn’t take the chance that one of them would show up early for her appointment while the other’s ran over, so I made the rule that they couldn’t have an appointment on the same day. It was a good business decision—one that Krista either failed to see or completely ignored and my lovely salon and I paid the price.

  I had just removed the foils from Georgia’s hair and shampooed her, making sure to massage her scalp a little longer than I did with most clients. She wasn’t an easy person to get along with, in fact, some would say I was one of the few who did. Where everyone else saw a bitter, older woman who lost her husband to a younger woman, I saw a person who only wanted to be loved. Yeah, that acerbic tongue she used on people didn’t back me up, but I saw through her act.

  Georgia was one of my first clients when I opened my doors at the squalor I rented from Harvey. She loved the name of the shop, and as the mayor’s wife wanted to stop in and congratulate me on opening a small business. I thought that Georgia was an attractive older woman, but I wanted to yank the license of whomever did her hair color. She caught me staring and perhaps I was biting my lip to avoid saying anything blunt. I had been known to pop off at the mouth with the first thing that came to my mind. It was a bad trait I worked hard to overcome. The last thing I needed was to make Georgia angry so that she warned my potential clients away.

  “You keep staring at my hair,” she said bluntly. “You’re making me nervous.”

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, shuffling my feet nervously from left to right.

  “Go ahead and tell me. I can take it,” Georgia replied. I could tell she was bracing herself for bad news.

  I didn’t know it then, but beneath her confident – sometimes arrogant – veneer was a very insecure woman. Had I known, I might’ve used kinder words than, “Your hair color ages you. It’s too blonde, and it makes it look like you’re trying to appear younger than you are. It detracts from your beauty rather than enhances it.”

  Georgia narrowed her eyes at me for several long moments, and I wondered if I’d just killed my career before it even began. Finally, she tipped her head slightly to the side and said, “I like you.” Then she sat down in my empty chair and said, “Fix it.” So I did, and she became a loyal customer who told all of her friends—or frenemies in her case—about my business. I credited her with my early success and she gobbled up the praise like someone who was desperate to hear positivity in their lives.

  For whatever reason, I was one of the rare people who got to see her softer side. Georgia treated the rest of the town like they were beneath her somehow. I would see people cower in her presence or cross the street to avoid her when they saw her walking toward them. It made me sad that the rest of the town didn’t know her as I did. Even though I knew of her reputation, it shocked me to see her in action when we came out of the shampoo room, and she laid eyes on her nemesis. Nadine Beaumont.

  Rocky’s second wife was a much younger version of the original model. Nadine used to be Georgia’s personal assistant until she was caught assisting Rocky with things not on Georgia’s agenda. The affair itself was pretty big news, but Nadine’s unplanned pregnancy was even bigger. Georgia didn’t take the humiliation very well, but who the fuck would in her shoes? Three years had passed, and it was obvious that the hurt and embarrassment was just as raw as the day she caught them in the act in her own bed.

  “You fucking cunt,” Georgia yelled loudly to be heard over the noise of hair dryers, softly piped music, and conversations bet
ween stylists and their clients. “Disgusting, husband-stealing whore!”

  Nadine was standing with her back to us looking at nail polish for a mani/pedi. My nail tech, Dee Hayslip, and I stared at each other with bulging eyes. Both of us were wondering how the hell it happened when I caught the shocked expression on Krista’s face. I had looked at the salon schedule that morning like I always did, and Nadine’s name wasn’t on it.

  Nadine whirled around, her expression going from shocked to downright evil as she took in her adversary wearing a salon cape and her hair wrapped in a towel. She held up a bottle of bright red nail polish in her left hand in a way that the afternoon autumn sun caught her ginormous diamond and sent prisms of light all over the walls.

  “Well, if it isn’t Rocky’s dried out ex-hag. I stopped by to get a manicure and pedicure before I celebrate my anniversary with my husband tonight. I picked a shade to match the new lingerie I bought for the occasion.” She smiled evilly and then addressed me. “Josh, honey, I think you’re going to need more than a little hair dye to help make her presentable again.” Nadine was not a good person, and I didn’t like her at all. I would never refuse service to a client just because I didn’t like them; it was bad for business. However, I was seriously starting to rethink my business philosophy.

  Georgia stood rigid in front of me and I could feel the anger rolling off her in waves. There stood the woman who was thirty years younger and could give Rocky what she couldn’t—children. I knew how much it hurt Georgia when Nadine gave birth to their first child. The town gossips lauded the baby over her head, hell-bent on having a good time at the expense of others. The town treated the mayor and new first lady like royalty and their son like a prince. It amazed me that Georgia chose to live remain Blissville after the divorce, but then I realized she had too much pride to be run out of the place she called home. It made me proud to know her and call her a friend.

  Well, that was until she let out some banshee-like battle cry and launched herself at Nadine. She grabbed two handfuls of Nadine’s Blonde Bombshell hair and began yanking it. Nadine drew back her hand and slapped Georgia so hard her towel fell off her head.

  “You fat, sterile cow,” Nadine screeched before she wrapped her hands around Georgia’s throat and began to squeeze.

  It happened so fast that I was slow to react, but I flew into action once Georgia head-butted Nadine and broke her nose. I grabbed for Georgia while my best friend, and fellow stylist, Meredith, grabbed for Nadine.

  “Georgia, settle down now.” I tried to calm her down while Nadine wailed and screamed, covering her bloody nose with both hands. At least her hands were no longer around Georgia’s neck.

  “Yeah, settle down, Georgia,” Nadine said, wiping away at the blood on her face with the back of her hand. “Too much exertion at your age can kill you.”

  I seriously thought about dropping my hands from Georgia’s shoulders and helping her whip Nadine’s ass. Business be damned, that hateful shrew wasn’t welcome back, and I’d tell her as soon as I knew the fight was over.

  “Don’t listen to her, Georgia,” Meredith chimed in. “Be the classier woman that we all know you to be.” Well, at least I knew Mere would have my back when it came time to give Nadine the boot.

  It was as if our words didn’t register with her because Georgia shook me off and tackled Nadine to the floor. Meredith leaped out of the way in the nick of time or would’ve been taken down with her. Georgia straddled the younger woman’s hips and began to choke her in earnest. Nadine’s eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of her head and I had to do something.

  Meredith and I tried to pry Georgia’s hands off Nadine’s neck. We were able to loosen the grip she had on the younger woman and just about had her pulled off when Nadine took advantage of the situation and rolled Georgia over. Instead of pinning Georgia down, she kept rolling until they crashed into my display case that held my hair products and styling tools for sale.

  I watched in horror as the glass unit wobbled and threatened to tip over. The force of the hit broke a few of the shelves on the bottom. Glass and bottles of styling products crashed on top of the two women, but that didn’t stop them. Instead, they rolled in the other direction, screaming profanities and yanking each other’s hair the entire time. It looked like we were on the set of Dynasty instead of standing in my salon.

  They barreled into my legs, knocking me over. I hit my head on the receptionist’s desk hard enough to see stars. It usually took a lot to make me angry; trashing my salon and nearly knocking me out was enough to do the trick.

  I shook off the stars and quickly got to my feet. “That’s enough, Nadine and Georgia!” They completely ignored my yelling, so I made a grab for whoever was on top as they rolled on the floor. Instead of grabbing ahold of one of them, I got a fist to the eye for my effort.

  It took my three stylists and me to break the women up. They stood panting like rabid dogs as they glared at one another. Georgia then turned her gaze to me and looked at me with wounded eyes. “You betrayed me by allowing her into your salon,” she said, her voice filled with hurt. She pointed her finger in Nadine’s direction and raised her voice when she added, “I made you, Josh. You were nothing when I first walked into your cheesy salon five years ago. Your success, this beautiful salon,” she gestured around at my pride and joy with both hands, “is all because of me.” Georgia’s face twisted with rage. “I will just as easily destroy you. Do you hear me?”

  Not waiting for a response, she whirled around and left the salon. The autumn breeze kicked up as she walked down the front steps, making the cape she still wore billow up in front of her body. She looked down at the cape then whipped it off and tossed it to the ground before she stomped on it with both feet.

  “She left without her coat or purse,” Meredith said softly beside me. “I’ll take them out to her, honey.”

  I turned to face Nadine while Meredith retrieved Georgia’s things. I knew that I should’ve been the one to take them to her, but I also knew she needed time to calm down before we spoke again. Georgia had been very instrumental in my early success, but she did not make me. She might’ve sent a lot of clients to my door, but I was the one who pleased them and kept them coming back for five years. Still, I didn’t want there to be any animosity between us. I decided to wait until the morning and then I’d give her a call or stop by her house.

  Someone had brought Nadine a towel to hold to her bleeding nose. I could hear her mumbling about pressing charges beneath the cotton. She looked at me when she felt my attention on her. Nadine must’ve seen how angry I felt because she at least had the smarts to look a little nervous.

  “You are not welcome here again, Nadine.” She removed her towel in preparation to argue with me, but I held up my hand. “This is not up for debate. Curl Up and Dye is my salon, and I decide the clients I will and will not see. I am aware that Georgia threw the first verbal barb, but the things you said to her were cruel and uncalled for. You are persona non grata around here from now on.”

  She stood taller in her indignation over my criticism. “Wait until my husband hears about this. He’ll destroy you for treating me this way.”

  “I really don’t care what your sleazebag for a husband thinks about me,” I replied. “I’d like for you to leave now or I’ll be forced to call the police. I could press charges for the property damage.” I gestured to the broken glass all over the floor. “Or even assault,” I added, pointing to my eye that was starting to throb.

  “Fuck you,” Nadine said, flipping me the bird on her way out the door. Such a classy act from our town’s first lady.

  I shook my head and turned back to face my employees. “Back to work, everyone.”

  It wasn’t long before the normal buzz of the salon returned. Since Georgia left early, I had a few hours before my next client. I got out a broom and cleaned up the mess before I retreated to the sitting room between the salon and massage areas with a cup of coffee.

  “F
ucking cunt!”

  I looked up at my blue macaw, Savage, and grimaced at what he just said. He already had the filthiest mouth on the planet when I took pity on him and bought him from the pet store. His previous owner had died, and his family didn’t know what to do with him, so they took him to the pet store. Brook, the owner, took him in before she discovered his vocabulary. I walked into the pet store one afternoon to buy treats for my Siamese cat, Diva, and my ferret, Jazzy, and was immediately propositioned by the bird for a blow job. It was love at first sight.

  Normally, his raunchy talk made me laugh and brought a smile to my face, but not right then. It reminded me of how hurt Georgia was when she left the salon. I wanted to find her and make things right between us, but I had several more clients on my schedule, and I figured she needed more time before she would want to talk to me.

  I tried calling her when my day was over, and I was alone in my living space on the second floor, but my call went to voicemail. Instead of leaving a message, I hung up. I decided it would be best if I talked to her in person.

  IT WAS A RARE occurrence for me to get called into work on a Saturday once I moved to Blissville two years ago. My then-boyfriend, Kyle, wanted to move back home and take over his grandfather’s veterinary practice when he retired. At that time, Kyle and I had been together for two years and lived together for one. Our relationship had become strained from both of us working such long hours, and we both thought the move to a smaller town was what we needed to repair our relationship. We tried for another year but realized the chasm between us had grown too large to bridge. We parted on good terms, and I decided to stay in the quaint town, rather than start all over someplace else.

  It had been a sleepy existence until Bianca Dragomir was killed in her home by a client who didn’t like the results of a love potion she gave him. Not only did her death shock the community of just over six thousand citizens, but it also brought a new person into my life who confused me on every level. I pushed thoughts of Josh Roman aside as I jogged up the steps of the mini-mansion that belonged to the town’s former first lady, as they referred to a mayor’s wife in Blissville.