Do You Hear What I Hear?

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Do You Hear What I Hear? Page 3

by Holly Jacobs


  “I made the appointment because I thought I could kill two birds with one stone. Get a much-needed trim and discuss what we’re going to do about the party.”

  “What party?”

  Joshua stuck out his hand. “Hi. Joshua Gardner, cochairman of the PSBA Christmas party.”

  Libby ignored the hand. “I’ll kill her.”

  “I could ask her who, but I’m going to assume you mean Mabel. And I’m going to assume the fact you want to kill her indicates you’re less than enthused at the prospect of working with me. Since planning a Christmas party requires very little parallel parking, I think we should be safe.” He shot her a smile, one that had probably gotten him out of countless sticky situations.

  Despite the fact that a smiling, newly trimmed Joshua Gardner was a sight to behold, Libby frowned. “I quit.”

  His smile slipped a notch. “What?”

  “You can plan the party yourself.”

  There. Problem solved. Libby hadn’t wanted to plan the Christmas party before she found out who her co-chair would be, but now…well, having a mammogram was higher on her list of things she wanted to do. At least a mammogram had some intrinsic value, something she’d found totally lacking in Joshua Gardner. Unless she considered his great head of hair—which Libby definitely wasn’t considering.

  “I don’t know the area,” Joshua protested. “I mean, I might be from Erie, but things have changed since I left home.”

  “I’m sure you can find someone else to help you.”

  Josie and Pearly had been quiet in the back room—too quiet. She was betting either of them would willingly throw themselves at the man’s feet, and help plan the party.

  “I’m sure one of my employees would volunteer.”

  A small thud came from the back—a thud she was sure her two employees were responsible for. Whether it was Pearly and Josie thumping, Sure we’ll do it or What are you thinking? Libby wasn’t sure. The only thing she was sure of was that she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with Dr. Gardner.

  “What are you afraid of, Libby?” he asked quietly.

  “Ms. McGuiness,” she corrected. “And I’m not afraid of anything. You just rub me the wrong way, and I don’t have the time or patience to pretend your arrogant, overbearing manner is acceptable. So, keep your flowers, your hair and your smiles to yourself. And find someone else to help with the party.”

  “Are you telling me that you are immature enough to let one small incident mar any further relationship between us?”

  He removed the cape and stood, facing Libby. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes, but look him in the eyes she did. “Let me assure you, Dr. Gardner, I have no interest in a relationship with you. You might think that no woman can resist you, but I’m quite capable. I have no desire—”

  “I wasn’t talking about a personal relationship,” he interrupted. “I was talking about a professional relationship. We’re both members of the Perry Square Business Association, and we’re neighbors. Surely you’re adult enough to put one small disagreement behind us, and work together on this one little party. Unless you’re avoiding me for some other reason.”

  Libby knew a challenge when she heard one. She shouldn’t care what he thought, as long as he thought it somewhere she wasn’t. But despite the fact she should just let him think whatever his tiny little mind wanted to think, she found herself saying, “Fine.”

  “Fine. You’ll stay my co-chairman?”

  “Yes. But no more flowers, no more parking anywhere near my car and we keep our meetings as brief as possible and strictly business.”

  Again, Joshua extended his hand and this time, reluctantly, Libby accepted it in an impersonal handshake.

  “Partners,” he simply said.

  “For now,” she added.

  “Thanks for the haircut.” He reached in his pocket and handed her a bill. “Will that cover it?”

  “Just let me get you your change.”

  “Keep it. Could we meet tomorrow night after work?”

  Libby wanted to say no to both the tip and the meeting. But the tip would go toward Meg’s computer, and tomorrow was Friday and Meg was spending the night with the Hendersons, so it was convenient. But it irked her to tell the good doctor so.

  “Fine,” she said grudgingly.

  “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow after work, Ms. McGuiness.” He turned and left the store.

  As if every ounce of energy had drained away, Libby sank into the chair that was still warm with Joshua Gardner’s body heat.

  “Way to go, honey,” Pearly said as she burst from the back room.

  “For a minute there, I thought you’d blown it.” Josie patted her hair. Her opinion was, bigger was better, and her red-from-a-bottle hair was certainly proof of that philosophy. Despite its impressive height, there was never a strand out of place. Josie’s nails were as loud as her hair, and just about as big and red. As the shop’s manicurist, she felt her nails were advertisement, and she advertised as much as she could. “I mean, Mabel found the perfect guy for you to work with.”

  “Perfect?” Libby snorted. “He’s overbearing, arrogant, very unhumorous in his I-think-I’m-soooo-funny way, and—”

  “Flowers. Tell us about the flowers,” Pearly commanded. Pearly, the shop’s other hairstylist, still carried her Georgia roots in every word she uttered, just as she carried her own natural graying brunette hair. Pearly didn’t believe in pretenses, not even with hair color. Soft and very Southern, Pearly was a lady to the core of her being.

  “You two were eavesdropping.” The accusation held very little heat. Libby was well aware that Pearly and Josie were professional eavesdroppers and busybodies. That’s why they got along with Mabel so well. There was no way they would have been able to resist the opportunity to spy.

  “Of course we were spying,” Josie said, honest to the core.

  “You should have just gone home. You didn’t have any more appointments,” she grumbled.

  “And miss all the action?” Josie laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  “What was that thump back there?”

  “Me kicking the wall,” Josie admitted. “I thought you’d blown it.”

  “I wish I had.” Libby rubbed her temple. Dealing with Joshua Gardner had given her a headache. Dealing with Josie and Pearly was intensifying it.

  “Honey, when fate throws a good-looking man in your lap, it’s best to catch him.” Pearly was always spouting off down-home wisdom.

  “Personally I’ve found it best to duck.” Especially if that man was Joshua Gardner.

  “You’re hopeless,” Josie said, snapping her gum for emphasis.

  “No, I’m a realist. And realistically there’s no way Joshua Gardner and I will ever get along.”

  Joshua Gardner was a realist. Realist enough to know that working with Libby McGuiness—Ms. McGuiness—was going to be a huge pain. Either the woman didn’t like men in general, or she just didn’t like him. It didn’t matter which it was—working with her was going to be a chore. He should have just let her bow out and asked Mabel to find someone else he could work with.

  But he hadn’t let her bow out.

  In fact, he’d practically insisted she continue chairing the party. His actions didn’t make sense. And if there was one thing Joshua Gardner liked, it was having things make sense.

  Maybe that’s why his breakup with Lynn had been so difficult. It didn’t make sense. He’d thought they were happy…right up until the day Lynn told him she wanted a divorce. The divorce didn’t make sense to Joshua, at least until he’d met Lynn’s new boy-toy. Twenty-five with a washboard stomach. Then it made plenty of sense.

  He looked down. His stomach wasn’t exactly a washboard, but it wasn’t potbelly, either. He took care of himself, but didn’t push the line to obsessing about his body. And though he wasn’t twenty-five anymore, he was happy being almost forty. Well, maybe not happy, but not dreading his forties. No midlife crises for him, unl
ess you counted a failed marriage, and picking up and starting over again.

  He’d been living the life that he’d always wanted…Well, except for kids. He’d wanted them. She hadn’t. And they had none.

  Lynn said she’d worked as hard for her degree as he had for his, and she wasn’t about to give up all that work for some mewling brats. He’d pointed out he’d be willing to split the burdens fifty-fifty, just like he wanted to split the joys, but Lynn would hear none of it.

  In the end, nothing was split quite fifty-fifty, but the settlement was fair enough. Lynn had bought out his half of their practice, and it had given him enough to start over. To start here in Erie, his hometown.

  Though his family had scattered throughout the country, this was still home.

  So here he was.

  Dr. Joshua Gardner of Gardner’s Ophthalmology. Footloose and fancy-free, and utterly unsure of what to do with his loose ends.

  He’d readily agreed to Mabel’s request because chairing the Christmas party gave him something to do, and gave him a way to ease into the community he had joined. His agreement had nothing to do with the fact that the very bristly Ms. McGuiness would be working with him.

  No. It had nothing to do with her at all.

  She was his neighbor. This was just an excellent way to get over the hurdle of their first, inauspicious meeting.

  That’s all it was.

  Chapter Three

  A business meeting.

  That’s all this was.

  People had them all the time.

  The phrases ran through her head all day, and yet not one eased the raging case of nerves Libby had developed. It was only a meeting, and Libby didn’t know why it was bothering her so much. But when she accidentally dropped her scissors for about the hundredth time of the day, she knew it was useless to deny her anxiety any longer.

  She was nervous as hell about this little meeting.

  “Would you stop fluttering around the shop like some sort of drunken butterfly?” Josie asked, exasperation in her voice. “He’s only a man, sweetums. And men are a dime a dozen. You can take my word for that.”

  “He’s not a man, he’s a business associate. That’s the only reason I’m seeing him tonight. Business.”

  “If you say so,” Josie said with a sly smile.

  “I do.”

  “Well, then settle down.” There was more than a hint of indulgence in Josie’s voice.

  “I’m not nervous,” Libby said with as much force as she could muster.

  “Hey, my appointment just canceled,” Pearly called as she came in from the back room.

  “Why don’t you just take off early?” Libby offered.

  “That’s one idea,” Pearly said slowly.

  Libby sensed a trap, but asked anyway, “What’s the other?”

  “You could let me have a go at that hair. It’s getting so long, and it’s such heavy hair that carrying around that weight all day can’t be comfortable.”

  Libby grabbed her braid. No way was she going to let Pearly start trimming. “It’s fine.”

  “Don’t you trust me?” Pearly asked innocently. Much too innocently.

  “Of course I trust you,” Libby reassured her, even while she silently added, As far as I can throw you. “But I don’t have time to get my hair cut. I have a meeting in an hour and have to close up the shop and—”

  “We’ll close up the shop for you. And I’m not talking a cut, just a small trim,” Pearly pressed.

  “You really need one,” Josie said, blatantly choosing Pearly’s side as she joined the skirmish.

  “Well…”

  “Come on, Libby.” Pearly sensed the kill was at hand and pounced. “You just sit yourself in this chair and let me give your hair a quick rinse. We’ll have it all trimmed, smart and proper, before your date—”

  “It’s not a date, it’s a business meeting,” Libby said again. Exactly who she was reminding she wasn’t sure. She’d had meetings in the past and had never felt this jittery about any of them.

  “Who’s Libby meeting?” Mrs. Kane asked from Josie’s manicure chair.

  “The new doctor next door,” Josie said.

  “It’s just a meeting,” Pearly soothed. “Well, let’s get this done before your meeting shows up.”

  Reluctantly Libby sat. The wash went fine, and Pearly led her to the chair, had the cape whipped over her shoulders before Libby could blink an eye. It wasn’t until Pearly picked up the scissors that the trouble started. “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh, what?” Libby asked, craning her head to peek in the mirror.

  “I slipped with the scissors,” Pearly cheerfully responded.

  “How did you slip with the scissors when you’ve only just started?”

  “It was easy. But don’t you worry. You’re going to just sit here and let me fix up this mess I created.”

  Knowing that her hacked hair was no accident, Libby resigned herself to a real cut—a cut she hadn’t asked for and didn’t necessarily want.

  “Pearly, what are you doing?” she asked as the snipping seemed to continue for an inordinately long time. Libby cut hair for a living and knew that this was taking longer than a trim—even a trim with slipping—should take.

  “You just sit back and relax. You don’t relax nearly enough.” Clip. Clip.

  “And it doesn’t appear I’m going to get much relaxing done tonight.”

  “Yeah, meetings aren’t very relaxing, are they?” Pearly asked. Snip. Snip.

  “Especially not when you’re meeting with a handsome man like Joshua,” Josie added.

  Clip. Clip.

  “I haven’t met the new doctor yet.” Mrs. Kane looked interested. “Is he that good-looking?”

  “Better,” Josie assured her.

  “Worth getting an eye exam,” Pearly added. Snip. Snip.

  Clip, clip, clip.

  “It sounds like a lot of cutting for just a small trim.” Libby tried to turn and catch a glimpse in the mirror of what Pearly was up to, but Pearly grabbed her head.

  “Well, there was that slip, remember.” Clip. “But don’t worry, you’re going to love it.” Snip.

  “I already do,” Josie piped in.

  Libby groaned.

  And when Pearly finally turned the chair so she could look at her trim, she groaned even louder. “Pearly!”

  “I told you I slipped.”

  Muttering about scissor-slipping stylists, Libby toyed with her now-shoulder-length hair. It wasn’t so bad, but she wasn’t about to tell her sneaky, snipping, conniving employees that. She gave her head a small shake and watched in delight as the brunette curls, freed from the weight of her hair and her ever-present braid, bounced.

  Despite the fact she didn’t hate the cut, might even like it a bit, she wasn’t about to admit a thing. She was just about to read them both a riot act when the bell over the door chimed merrily.

  “Ready?” Dr. Gardner, the hunky reason for Pearly’s slippage, asked as he walked through the door.

  “Just let me get my coat.” She grabbed it off the hook in the back room. Before she walked out the door she turned to the two haircut cohorts. “And don’t forget to get in an hour early tomorrow for that little meeting we’re going to have.”

  “What little meeting?” Pearly asked.

  “The one where we discuss professionalism, honesty and nonslip scissors.”

  The phone rang and Josie practically vaulted over the chair to get it and escape the lecture.

  “Nonslip scissors?” Dr. Gardner—Libby refused to think of him as Joshua—asked.

  “Snips and Snaps,” Josie said into the receiver.

  “Private joke.” Libby trudged after him toward the door. “Where are we going?”

  “My place? I’ve got an apartment at Lovell Place, so it’s close.”

  There was no way she was going to Joshua Gardner’s home, no way at all. This was a professional association, and professional associations didn’t get all chummy at each o
ther’s homes—dates did. And this wasn’t a date.

  “I was thinking maybe a restaurant, or—”

  “Libby,” Josie called. “It’s Mrs. Henderson.”

  “Meg?” A sense of dread crept into Libby’s heart. “Is something wrong with Meg?”

  “She said there was a small accident.”

  A helpless feeling washed over Josh as the color totally deserted Libby. She raced for the phone, and he followed. Who the hell was Meg? A sister? A friend?

  As she spoke in hushed tones to this Mrs. Henderson, some of the color returned to her face. By the time she hung up she looked better, though obviously still concerned. “Listen, I hate to cancel on you, but I’ve got to go.”

  “Who’s Meg?” he asked.

  “My daughter.” With that she was gone and all Joshua could do was watch her leave.

  Her daughter?

  A hand touched her shoulder. “There’s no husband to go with that daughter, if that’s what you’re wondering, boy.”

  He turned and looked into the graying stylist’s warm eyes. “I’m sorry?”

  “No, you won’t be if you stick around. Libby’s a woman no man would be sorry to have. And I said, she doesn’t have a husband, leastwise, not anymore, so you don’t have to look so puppy-dog sad.”

  “Miss—” Joshua left the word hanging, realizing he didn’t know the woman’s name.

  “Missed a man, that’s the only Miss I’ve got. And the name’s Pearly. Pearly Gates. You see, the day I was born my mother—God rest her soul—took one look at me and said she was looking on a piece of heaven. She named me Pearly, Pearly Gates, to remind herself—and me, too—what I was.”

  Josh couldn’t help but smile. Before he could make his escape, Pearly added, “And Mama used to say it was a good thing she named me Pearly ’cause she needed all the remindin’ she could get. Seems I might have come from heaven, but the devil put his two cents in my makeup. I was always gettin’ in one piece of trouble after another. Mama said the gray hairs on her head were all mine. I figure this—” she ran her fingers through her short gray hair “—is her way of getting even with me.”

  Pearly laughed, not a quiet ladylike noise, but a laugh full of all the gusto she had for life. “And Miss cracks-her-bubble-gum over there is Josie. I can’t think of an interesting story to tell about her.”

 

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