“Uh oh,” Honey hissed at the side of Ginger’s ear. “She’s not going to like you giving free haircuts.”
“I heard you’ve been stealing my customers,” Ellen said, laughing. “And I ought to kick your butt, but hey, you’re Marsh’s girl, so I’ll cut you some slack.”
Ginger’s face blew hot at being called Marsh’s girl. That was the problem with small towns, everyone assumed things and one could never get away from their assumptions.
“I cut his hair and the next thing I know, all the men in town want haircuts.”
“Totally understandable,” Ellen said. “The salon’s a hangout for us girls, and maybe the guys wanted something quick and dirty instead of being mired down in long conversations.”
“If you’d rather I not cut the seniors’ hair for free—” Usually, Ginger didn’t back off so easily, but she shouldn’t have encroached on someone else’s home turf.
“It will be completely okay if you work for me,” Ellen said. Her nostrils flared, and the piercing on it glinted in the light of the bar. “Then I could write it off on my taxes. How would you like to work at my hair salon?”
“Can I do it temporarily? In case I decide to leave?”
“Of course you can.” Ellen gave her arm a squeeze. “But I gotta warn you. No one who gets bitten by the Sapphire Falls Love Bug ever leaves. Marsh is a good man, and I don’t know why you bid on his brother, but it’ll all work out.”
Chapter Seventeen
“This is crazy.” Mike pushed Marsh when they got to his truck. “She ruined my date with Penny all because she was trying to get back at you.”
“What did I do? Nothing.” Marsh shouted. “I even put myself up there and she didn’t bid on me. Not one cent.”
“Maybe she’s pissed at you. I don’t know, and what’s with the fifteen hundred dollars you spent on the tickets? What are you going to do now?”
“I guess give them to the lady who won me.” Marsh got into the cab and slammed the door.
Mike followed into the passenger seat and slammed the door. “I thought you were going to bid low. You said no one in town was going to bid.”
“I miscalculated.” Marsh held his head which was starting to throb. “I saw those tourist ladies get interested in the tickets even before I went up there. Derek was taking their bids as fast as he could, and I had to put in my max bid.”
“But that was your honeymoon money.” Mike’s eyes widened like saucers. “You saved that money forever.”
“Does it look like I’m ever going on a honeymoon?” Marsh slapped the dashboard. “It’s gone now, okay?”
He started up the engine and drove away.
“You’ve got to tell her,” Mike said after a few miles. “Tell her you bought the tickets for her, and that you thought she’d bid for you.”
“You’re her date. Go for it. You’re lucky you’re my brother, or I’d beat the crap out of you.”
“For being caught between you two stupid ones?” Mike exclaimed. “You’ve got to do something. I don’t want to be with Ginger for the Valentine’s Day dance.”
“It’s just a dance.” Marsh gunned the engine and swung onto their drive. “I have to pack. I have an early flight and you’re taking me to the airport.”
“Like hell I will.” Mike jumped from the truck and slammed the door.
“Fine, then don’t complain if you need my truck for anything,” Marsh yelled back before slamming the door.
After going into the apartment to grab his stuff, Marsh packed everything in his truck and headed to Omaha. He wasn’t getting any sleep tonight anyway, and he might as well beat the traffic in the morning.
* * *
Ginger was in a red-clouded daze by the time she got back to Honey and Max’s house.
She had a job, should she want to stay in Sapphire Falls, but she also got her heart broken for the first time.
How could she stay in this charming little town if everywhere she turned, she’d be reminded of Marsh Wolff? Even worse, he was already her in-law and she couldn’t hide from seeing him during family get-togethers.
Add to that, the entire town seemed to know about their two-night stand and everyone was whispering or commenting about the turnaround where he was going to New York with the Yankees fan and she was going to the dance in the community center with Marsh’s younger brother.
What a mess!
Ginger groaned as Honey and Candi propped her up and brought her from the cold into living room where Max and Troy sat watching TV.
“What happened at the bachelor’s auction?” Troy asked.
“What happened to you?” Max rushed to help relieve Candi and Honey of Ginger’s dead weight.
“I’ve lost it all.” Ginger wept. “I did the Dr. T technique to see if a man cared about me and found out he didn’t.”
“But there’s nothing you could have done differently,” Candi said. “You made sure you weren’t too available, and you gave him competition. He was the one who failed.”
“Wait, what happened? What Dr. T technique are you talking about?” Troy put his hand over Ginger’s back.
“The one about being hard to get,” Ginger said. “I wanted to see if Marsh was the one for me, so I bid on another guy at the auction.”
“Then when he was on stage, we told her not to bid for him, because like you said, a woman should never chase a man,” Candi continued.
“I said that?” Troy scratched his head.
“Yes, you said not to be too available and to keep him guessing.” Candi said. “I have all your messages on my phone.”
“I wish I hadn’t listened to you,” Ginger wailed, spewing tears. “He must think I’m just like that girl who left him at the altar. I told you I shouldn’t have played hard to get.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Troy said. “My advice pertains to separating out the players from the good guys. By not giving players what they want, by seeming to be unavailable and not chasing them, you screen out guys who just want someone easy to sleep with where they don’t have to exert any effort. Marsh Wolff is not a player.”
“So, what should I do now?” Ginger cried into a tissue. “I’ve fallen in love with him, but I bid for his brother, and he’s taking that Yankees lady to the Billionaire Brothers Valentine’s Party in Times Square.”
“Did you want to go to it? It’s not too late to call him,” Honey said. “Or you can trade Mike for Marsh with that Yankees lady.”
“How about flying back to New York and surprising him in your apartment?” Candi said. “Then when he gets there, you’re there already.”
“And then what?” Ginger moaned. “Only to have him give me the cold shoulder like he did today?”
“You mean he ignored you after sleeping with you?” Troy asked. “I’m surprised. I thought Marsh Wolff was one of the good guys.”
“He didn’t ignore me exactly,” Ginger said. “He fed me breakfast and he had to go pull two calves and fix a broken pipe.”
“But he did walk by you at the bar and didn’t say ‘hi.’” Honey pointed out. “He seemed upset at you.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Ginger said. “He asked me if I was going to the bachelor’s auction this morning because he wanted me to get out of his hair and date others. That way, he wouldn’t feel guilty about not seeing me anymore.”
“Is that what he said?” Troy probed gently. “Or what you assumed? Maybe he was testing you. Maybe he was using Dr. T’s technique on you to see if you would bid on another guy.”
“That’s it!” Ginger shot from the couch. “He seemed weird when he asked me if I was going, and then he said he’d meet me there, like he wanted to see what I was up to.”
“Then, you should go over and clear the air,” Honey said.
“No, we should wait and see what Marsh’s next move is,” Troy said. “The principle of not chasing a man still stands, even if he was testing you. He’ll come to his senses sooner than later and test you again. Yo
u just have to sit tight and wait.”
“I don’t know if I can. I’m a New Yorker and everything is faster there than here. What am I going to do in the meantime? Just sit here?”
“How about we play card games,” Max suggested. “Who wants to play thirteen? Then we can keep trumping each other until the cows come home.”
Chapter Eighteen
Marsh landed at LaGuardia airport in New York City a little before noon. The sky was a bleak gray, and clouds hung low, giving the worn out buildings a sinister appearance.
Remembering Ginger’s lessons, he kept to himself and made it through baggage claim with no issues. Hefting his suitcase, he followed the directions to the taxi stand.
Rows of cabs in all different colors swooped in and picked up fares. Marsh waved over a driver and reached to open the car door.
A man the size of a linebacker shoved him so hard, he almost hit the sidewalk.
“Excuse me, sir,” Marsh said, but the man ignored him and jumped into the cab, closing the door in one motion.
The cab drove off, and Marsh brushed himself off and waited for the next one.
He was about to get into a taxi when two women said, “Hey, that’s our cab. Out of the way.”
“Maybe we can share it—”
“Not a chance.” They slid into the taxi and shut the door.
Finally, an old and beat up car idled in front of him and the driver cranked the window down manually. “Get in, son.”
The car had no signs, emblems or markings, but Marsh needed a ride, so he hopped in. “Thanks, sir.”
“Where’ll you be going?”
Marsh gave him the crumpled piece of paper with directions and the man snorted. “That’ll be fifty dollars cash in advance.”
Since he had no clue whether it was near or far, he forked over the money.
The old jalopy bounced over potholes and ruts onto the Expressway. They drove past burned out buildings and got stuck on an ancient metal bridge where no cars moved, but everyone honked just the same.
The river water below was oily and dark, and the few seagulls flying around were scruffy and sickly. Rows and rows of worn-out looking homes lined the poorly maintained streets. Finally, the cab stopped in front of a brick building with scaffolding over its façade.
“Is this the place?” Marsh asked. “It looks condemned.”
“That’s what the piece of paper you gave me says.” The driver rubbed his greasy beard. “Place is falling apart, but they still rent rooms cheap.”
“Oh, okay, thanks.” He dragged his suitcase from the trunk and waved to the driver, who took off without looking back.
Marsh walked under the archway and up a stoop of stairs. He opened the door to the interior of the complex. There was no lobby, only a row of mailboxes, a wilted potted plant and an elevator with an “Out of Order” sign.
The stairway reeked of urine, and dark rust smears stained the gray wall.
Once he got to the floor he wanted, he pushed a creaky metal door and entered a dark, narrow hallway. The sides were covered with cheap tiles, and floor below was sticky.
The few residents he passed scurried around him without greeting. He was able to match the number to the door, and thankfully, the key fit and he entered Ginger’s apartment.
He breathed easier as he checked out her place. It was a one-room efficiency with barely enough room to turn around in. A bed lay along one wall. A tiny dinette sat near the single double-hung window, and an old, threadbare sofa sprawled opposite the bed.
Marsh pulled the curtain aside and exposed a set of metal gates covering the window which led to the fire escape. A key hung on a string next to the window, but he doubted anyone panicking from a fire would have the presence of mind to fumble with the key.
The efficiency had a minimal bathroom on the opposite side of the wall from the kitchen sink, refrigerator and range oven combination.
Ginger, however, had attempted to decorate. Large happy faces, the simple yellow ones, along with other enlarged emoticons were scattered over the cracked, plaster walls.
A plastic bouquet of flowers sat on the rickety dinette, and the refrigerator was covered with magnets from various restaurants, bars, plumbers, and tourist attractions.
Marsh picked up a family picture sitting on the dresser. Ginger smiled back at him with her arms around Honey and Candi. There was also another sister, a thin one with dark brown hair and owlish glasses. Mother and Father stood on opposite sides of the girls. He’d heard they were divorced.
He set the picture down and opened the small closet near the door to hang up his coat.
Ginger’s dresses hung inside, empty and lifeless.
Pushing them aside, he couldn’t help running his fingers through the few party dresses she owned. He brought a black slinky one to his nose, but couldn’t detect her perfume. It had a layer of dust on the shoulders, so he put it back.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was so angry at Ginger. She’d been exactly the friend she’d said she would be: letting him use her apartment, introducing him to her friends, and providing a list of sights he should see.
So, she’d snubbed him at the bachelor’s auction. But maybe she was with her sisters, and she didn’t want them knowing how close they’d gotten the night before.
Still, she’d bid half-heartedly on Derek, and then refused to bid on him, even when he offered her a chance to show she cared when she’d said her heart came with the sex act.
Which meant she didn’t. High standards, remember?
He wasn’t a sore loser, no matter how much it hurt, and honestly, she hadn’t promised him more than their two-day affair. It was he who was blowing all this out of proportion.
Pulling out his phone, he sent her a text message.
Got to your apartment. Thanks so much.
He didn’t expect a reply, but a few seconds later, she texted.
Great. Is there anything you need? Feel free to help yourself to anything in the refrigerator, not that there’s much.
He texted back. Same goes for you. Enjoy yourself.
Okay. I will. You enjoy yourself, too.
He rubbed his eyes and put the phone away.
How was he going to enjoy himself when she was so far away, and her apartment seemed an empty shell without any feel of her presence?
And how stupid was he that he was in New York City with the tickets to the party, and the one woman he wanted to go to the party with was back home in Sapphire Falls?
Mike was right. The poor kid was caught between them, and he wasn’t even sure why he was here and she was there.
Marsh’s finger hovered over the call button. Should he brave it and call her? After all, now he had the tickets, the very expensive tickets, and she was fifteen hundred dollars richer. Maybe she would accept his invitation.
While he hesitated, another text message rolled in.
It was from Yvonne, the Yankees fan.
Hey, I’m flying in tonight. Have you arranged the limo to take us to the party?
Limo? She expected him to rent a limo for the party? Marsh just spent fifty dollars for a taxi ride from the airport and he had no idea how much a limo cost.
He texted back. Why don’t we meet there? I’m staying in the Bronx.
He checked Ginger’s directions and verified that he was indeed in the Bronx.
The Bronx? Where?
As if he knew. Marsh was about to type in the address when he remembered Ginger telling him to be street smart. He didn’t know Miss Yankee Stadium from Eve. What if she were only after the party tickets?
He texted back. Not sure. The southern part right above the river.
Her message came back. I’m in midtown Manhattan, but I’m warning you. I’m not going unless you hire a limo. I bid good money on you, and you owe it to me.
If he hadn’t met Ginger, he might have believed Yvonne represented all city women—high strung and entitled. She wore the latest fashion which was most l
ikely made up of expensive, designer clothes and shoes.
Another text message rolled in. Are you ignoring me? Why haven’t you confirmed the limo and time you’re picking me up?
Marsh rubbed his face and sighed. What had he gotten himself into?
He was going to have to figure out a way to get rid of Yvonne. This woman had the personality of a barracuda.
He ignored her next two texts and shut off his phone. He was tired from staying up the night before, so he lay down on Ginger’s bed and shut his eyes.
She’d lain here every night, slept right at this very spot.
He snuggled his face on her pillow and found a strand of her brilliant red hair. Faint traces of her sweet powder clean scent lingered on the pillow.
Face it. He missed her, and he should have been man enough to ask her to the party. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could still fly out and make it in time.
He blew on his hands and called Ginger before he could chicken out.
“Hello? Marsh? Is everything okay?” Her voice was like balm to his soul.
“The apartment is great. I want to thank you for offering it to me. Have you moved into my place yet?”
“I’m going to stay away from it, actually.”
“But, why? You’re welcome to stay.” He racked his brain, wondering what could be the matter. “Didn’t you like my place? You even said I could put it up as a vacation rental.”
“I did, and it’s gorgeous, but I don’t think I can stay there.” She sounded stubborn or subdued.
“You don’t sound very happy. Is it something I did?” Marsh ran his fingers through the thick part of his hair.
“It’s nothing,” Ginger said. “We had an agreement, and you held up your end of it. It’s really okay.”
“I wish I were there so I can see that you’re truly okay,” Marsh said. “But since you’re not staying at my place, are you coming back to New York City any time soon?”
A long sigh was his only answer.
He waited a few seconds, then wondered if she was still there. “Ginger? Did I offend you?”
“No, you didn’t, but I can’t come over to show you around. I have to fulfill my end of the bid to cut all the senior citizens’ hair for free.”
Sapphire Falls: Going Hearts Over Heels (Kindle Worlds Novella) (My Country Heart Book 3) Page 10