by Duarte, Judy
Besides, she told herself, it was getting too late for a bedtime snack.
Once she’d checked out, she hurried to the car and drove home. Yet on the way, she couldn’t help thinking about Max Tolliver. As much as she wanted to consider him a villain, there was something decent about him, something nice.
And he wasn’t bad to look at, either. At least, when he smiled and those caramel brown eyes lit up.
She couldn’t believe she actually agreed to have lunch with him, though. And she wondered what kind of problem he had that needed a woman’s perspective. She supposed she’d find out soon enough.
Still, as unexpected as his “idea” had been, how unlikely it was that they might be able to help each other out, she was actually looking forward to having lunch with him.
Sure, she wanted to discuss Josh and whatever was going on with him right now. But she was also looking forward to meeting with Max because it had been ages since she’d sat across a restaurant table from a handsome man who was buying her lunch.
It seemed to have all the makings of a casual first date, although she knew that it wasn’t. She and Max were unlikely friends, let alone potential mates, so there was no need to worry about that.
Moments later, she arrived at the house and parked in the garage. Then she let herself in through the kitchen.
“I’m home,” she called.
No answer.
She glanced at the clock on the microwave, noting that she’d only been gone fifteen minutes—maybe seventeen or eighteen. “Josh? Where are you?”
“In here.”
She followed his voice to the living room, where he sat on the sofa. “Thanks for holding down the fort.”
“No problem.”
“What would I do without you?” she asked, not expecting an answer to what she’d meant as a compliment.
“I don’t know.” He looked up at her with eyes the same color as his father’s and a brow that furrowed in much the same manner. “I guess you’d really have problems.”
It hadn’t been the answer she’d been expecting, but the truth struck her hard.
So with that in mind, as well as Mikey’s cough, she probably wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, either.
When lunch had ended on Thursday afternoon, Lynette had hung out long enough to help Maggie with the dishes, hoping to see Grant after he returned from his job interview, but it hadn’t panned out that way. She’d made several excuses to go into Helen’s living room so she could sneak a peek out the window, but Grant had yet to return.
Susan had waited around, too, since she’d made a plate of cookies to give to either Grant or Max. Lynette hadn’t realized that Susan knew any of Helen’s neighbors that well, but she’d never been very observant.
Eventually, Susan had given the cookies to Maggie, asking her to deliver them to whichever man she happened to see first, although they’d all agreed that it was more likely to be Grant, since Max seemed to be a recluse.
“Maybe it’s best if you give the cookies to Grant,” Susan had finally said. “He seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy something sweet and chewy. He’s got those darling boyish dimples when he smiles, and something tells me he’s a real kid at heart.”
Maggie had chuckled at that. “It’s funny to think of men in their forties as boyish and cute.”
“All right,” Susan had admitted. “Grant is a drop-dead-gorgeous grown-up. He’s also a little laid-back and casual, which makes him appealing.”
“I’ll agree with that,” Lynette had said, “but Max isn’t bad looking. He could certainly compete with Grant in the gorgeous department if he’d smile more.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Maggie had said, “which is why I’m working on that.”
“On what?” Lynette had added. “Making him smile more?”
Maggie had nodded, although she hadn’t mentioned just how she planned to go about it.
Lynette might have asked her at that point, but she was more interested in Grant. Of the two men, she thought he might have the most money, be the best looking, and be more of the kind of guy who’d enjoy having a couple of boys around. So he’d probably be the better match for Carly.
“Maggie,” Susan had said, “are you interested in Max?”
“In what way?”
“Well, romantically, I suppose.” Susan had seemed to be a little concerned by that and added, “Would you go out with him if he asked you on a date?”
“Oh, no,” Maggie had said. “I won’t be in town long enough for that sort of thing.”
At that, Susan had grinned and handed over the cookies to Maggie. “Give these to whoever you think would appreciate them most.”
Then she’d thanked Maggie again for lunch, said good-bye, and left.
Lynette had figured that she would give them to Grant for Susan when she talked to him about scheduling his haircut, something that would have worked out great, if the man—boyish or not—would have come home.
Apparently, his interview had been going well. She’d hoped so, since it had seemed important to him. But since she hadn’t been able to wait forever, she’d gone home that day.
In the meantime, Lynette had talked to Carly on the telephone and had learned that there were plenty of times Grant could get a haircut. So she’d taken the first available appointment for him, which was Monday at twelve thirty.
However, she hated to cancel on Carly at the last minute, which she’d already done recently. So on Friday afternoon, she made up a reason to visit Maggie, hoping she would run into Grant, as well.
And if she didn’t see him outside? Then she would just walk up to his front door and ring the bell. After all, if she was going to be a successful matchmaker, she needed to learn more about the man so she could sing his praises to Carly—and vice versa.
Now, after she climbed out of the car and locked the door, she hurried up to the entrance of the Petal Pusher, a little nursery and gardening store on the outskirts of town.
It wasn’t nearly as cold today as it had been yesterday, so she wore her black leggings and a beige top and sweater. That was one of the things she liked about Southern California winters, they could be unpredictable, although usually mild.
After purchasing a lush plant to give Maggie in appreciation for having her and Susan for lunch yesterday, she returned to her vehicle and drove to Nutcracker Court.
As she neared Helen’s house, she spotted Grant trimming his hedge, something she decided was Fate at work. So after parking, she removed the plant from the passenger seat, got out of the car, and made her way to his yard.
He was wearing a light blue Hawaiian shirt and a pair of jeans. A hank of his sun-streaked hair had fallen on his forehead as he bent over his work.
If things fell into place the way Lynette hoped they would, Carly would be a very lucky lady.
Lynette had been lucky, too. But while Hank had been a blessing and a wonderful man in so many ways, Lynette might have loved him in a husbandly rather than brotherly fashion if he’d looked a little more like Grant Barrows and a little less like a stylish and contemporary version of Old Saint Nick.
Still, she wasn’t looking for another husband. If she were on the prowl, it would be a real plus if the guy was not only wealthy, kind, and generous, but young and handsome, too.
As Grant heard her approach, he looked up from his yard work and smiled. “Is that for me?”
“The plant?” She laughed. “No, it’s for Maggie. But when I saw you out here, I thought I’d ask how your interview went.”
“As well as could be expected, I guess.”
She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, so she let it go. “I wanted to tell you that I talked to Carly, the hairstylist I was telling you about. And she’s got an opening on Monday afternoon at twelve thirty. I told her to pencil you in. Will that work for you?”
“Sure,” he said. “Why not.”
Lynette brightened. “I can meet you there and introduce you two.”
&nb
sp; “Sounds good,” he said. “Maybe we can get a bite to eat afterward.”
“Good idea. I’ll ask Carly if she’s free to join us.”
“Carly?”
Lynette nodded. “She’s single. And she’s also very attractive. I think you’ll like her.”
Grant’s smile dimmed. “I thought she was looking for new clients. Sounds like she’s looking for more than that.”
“Oh, no.” Lynette hadn’t meant to be so obvious and tried to backpedal. “Carly is career-focused right now. Of course, once you see her, you might be tempted to ask her out. And it would probably do her a world of good if she spent some time away from the salon for a change.”
Grant seemed to think on that for the longest time. Finally, his gaze locked in on hers, threatening to turn her inside out, if she’d let him, and asked, “Is Carly as pretty as you?”
A bevy of butterflies took flight in Lynette’s tummy, and she struggled to make sense of it. Compliments always did that to her. But then again, so did young and handsome men who were the least bit friendly. But she shook it off.
“Carly is much prettier than I could ever hope to be.” And that was true since the brunette’s beauty was natural and not paid for. “In fact, she makes me look like Secondhand Rose.”
“Oh, yeah?” He seemed skeptical, which left her a little unbalanced. But not because she feared he would be disappointed when he saw Carly face-to-face.
Still, Lynette nodded, grateful that Grant got the hint and that the butterflies had begun to subside.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll get my hair cut on Monday. And we’ll take it from there—that is, if Carly’s interested.”
Lynette felt as though she’d scored one for the home team. “I’m sure she will be.”
How could she not? Grant was a hunk—and financially secure to boot.
Pleased that she’d pulled off what she’d planned, she tossed Grant one of her biggest, brightest smiles, one that showed off the pretty veneers Hank had purchased during their engagement.
“I’ll meet you at Shear Magic on Tuesday at twelve thirty,” Grant said.
“Great.”
But for some reason, his agreement only stirred up those butterflies all over again.
Chapter 11
On Monday morning, during a lull between clients, Carly used her free time to snack on a granola bar she’d brought from home and to ponder an upcoming problem.
The kids would be getting out of school for Christmas vacation at the end of the week, and she wasn’t sure what she’d do with them while she worked. Sharon had watched them last year as a favor, which had been a real blessing, but that was no longer an option.
Hiring a sitter was out of the question, of course, but she might be able to find another mother who was willing to work out a trade, such as two weeks of childcare for free haircuts and salon services.
Too bad she couldn’t think of another mom who didn’t work outside the home.
So it looked like Josh would have to watch Mikey during the school break, although she hated to have to rely on him. He was feeling put upon by all that she asked of him lately, and while she didn’t think she was wrong to do so, she hated to see him grow any more resentful than he already was.
Maybe Max Tolliver would have some suggestions for her when they had lunch today. She certainly hoped so.
As she popped the last of the granola bar into her mouth, she glanced at the clock on the break room wall: 12:26.
Lynette’s friend would be coming in for a haircut soon. After that, Carly would meet Max at the bistro down the street. It was a nice place and not terribly expensive, although she rarely ate there anymore.
Since Max had been the one to invite her to lunch, she assumed he would pick up the tab. Still, just to be on the safe side, she would only order a cup of soup—something that she could afford if they ended up going Dutch treat.
She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to agree to meet with Max, though. Her past contacts with him gave her no reason to believe he was good with kids or that he was the least bit understanding—or paternal. But he’d shown a softer side lately, so who knew what he’d have to say?
Of course, he would be asking for her opinion about something, too. She was curious about the problem he had that warranted some advice from a female perspective.
He’d said that he was divorced and implied that he wasn’t having any romantic troubles. Maybe he had an issue with a neighbor. Carly could see how someone who was short-tempered and cranky, as Max seemed to be, might set someone else off. She’d certainly been annoyed at both his tone and his attitude during their initial conversations.
She had, of course, seen him in a different light lately. Not that she liked him a whole lot better, but she no longer saw him as an ogre.
He also had nice eyes—when they revealed a little compassion, tolerance, and sympathy.
“Hey,” a woman called from the doorway. “There you are.”
Carly looked up to see Lynette peering into the break room and smiled. “Did you bring your friend?”
“No, I thought I’d meet him here and hang out while you cut his hair.”
“Cool.” Carly brushed her fingers across her lips, feeling for crumbs and not finding any.
“Why don’t you put on a little lipstick before you meet him,” Lynette said.
A little taken aback by the suggestion, Carly glanced in the mirror that hung near the door. Her hair and everything else appeared to be in place—even a remaining tinge of the Pink Grapefruit gloss she’d applied earlier this morning.
“I’m sorry,” Lynette said. “I didn’t mean to imply there was anything wrong. You look great—as usual. It’s just that Grant is a bachelor. He’s also single, wealthy, and looking for a nice woman.”
Uh-oh. So this wasn’t just another hair appointment. Before Carly had gotten married, people were always trying to set her up with guys, not that she’d needed much help.
“What is this?” Carly asked. “A setup?”
“Only if you want it to be.”
“I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
Lynette smiled. “Sometimes the best romances spark when people aren’t looking.”
“You might be right, and Grant might be a nice guy, but I have very little to offer anyone right now, other than a couple of kids and more bills than I can afford to pay.”
“I think you’d be surprised.”
About that time, Trevor, who was handling the front desk while Twyla was at lunch, poked his head in the door. “Carly, your twelve-thirty is here.”
“Oh, good,” Lynette said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Carly took one last look in the mirror, but not to check her appearance. She was actually looking for a sympathetic face, someone who would agree that the last thing in the world she needed right now was romance.
Sure enough, the woman gazing back at her was rolling her eyes at the idea, too.
Nevertheless, Carly headed to the front of the salon, where she would meet her would-be suitor, her heels clicking across the tile floor with skepticism and irritation.
What made some people think that a single woman couldn’t be happy without a man?
Not that Carly was actually happy these days, but her mood could easily be lifted by finding a winning lottery ticket, receiving an unexpected inheritance, or being able to schedule a series of free family counseling sessions.
As Carly followed Lynette to the front of the shop, she noticed the blonde had an optimistic spring in her step, which was more than a little annoying. She wished she could feign a headache, ask one of the other stylists to cut Grant’s hair, and go home sick.
If the guy was all that special, why didn’t Lynette want him?
Upon nearing the reception desk, Carly spotted a man who was about the right age—in his early forties. He wasn’t tall, maybe an inch or two under six feet, but with that surfer-boy hair and a striking smile, he was definitely a sight to behold.
When Lynette welcomed the man with a hug, there was little doubt as to who he was.
He was also just another client, Carly told herself, as she reached out and introduced herself.
His hand gripped hers, enveloping her in warmth and strength—and making her wonder if having a male companion might not be a bad idea after all.
She drew her fingers from his, then said, “Please, have a seat.”
When he sat in her chair and caught her gaze in the mirror, she nearly lost her professional edge, but she got it back again.
“How much would you like taken off?” she asked.
Grant glanced at Lynette and grinned, then he returned his focus to the mirror—and to Carly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask my friend. She’s the one who seems to think I need a haircut.”
“And you don’t?” Carly wondered if Lynette had coerced the guy into making the appointment. It sure seemed that way.
“Actually,” Grant said, “I don’t mind the length, but it could stand a trim.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” She took him to the shampoo bowl, reclined the back of the seat, then proceeded to wet and lather his hair.
“I didn’t expect this,” he said. “If your haircuts are as good as your head massages, you’ve got yourself another regular customer.”
Carly smiled as she rinsed off the suds. “Thanks. I try to take good care of my clients.”
Twenty minutes later, Grant’s hair was cut, styled, and blow-dried.
“There you go,” Carly said, as she handed him a mirror, then swung his chair around so he could get a glimpse of the backside of his head. “What do you think?”
“It looks great.” He offered her a heart-stroking smile, then turned to Lynette, who was grinning in agreement.
“Then you’re good to go.” Carly, glad to know she’d pleased them both, stepped back.
“Have you eaten yet?” Lynette asked. “If you can take a break, I thought it might be nice to walk to the bistro down the street. It would be my treat.”