Lady Luck

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Lady Luck Page 31

by Kristen Ashley


  Fortunately, she didn’t know that.

  My eyes narrowed on her. Like she felt it, her eyes slid to me and I was pleased to see her face pale. Then they shot back to Dominic when he spoke.

  “Girl, you know I love to have my hands in your hair. But I got a one o’clock half highlight and cut and while she’s cookin’, one of my sweet little blue hairs is comin’ in for a set. My afternoon is all decked out. Kayeleen’s on lunch but, she gets back, her afternoon is full too. We can’t help you out. Make an appointment, I think I got an opening late the week after next.”

  “But, the thing I need my touch up for is Tuesday night,” she told him.

  “Sorry, precious, no can do,” Dominic replied, shaking his head, her eyes slid to me and back to Dominic, her mouth working with indecision and I’d know why when she spoke again.

  “Dominic, this is a big deal for Chace. He told me awhile ago and I clean forgot about it. And you know he’s not a man who likes roots,” she admitted softly.

  Good. Chace was going to get pissed at his wife for being a moron.

  Good again. It was clear by the way she said it, she was a moron often and Chace didn’t like it. The worried look in her eyes said he also didn’t mind telling her.

  And good yet again. It was clearly not all fun and games in the Keaton household.

  And one last, big, fucking good. She did have roots. That blonde was way fake. I liked that.

  All this made me feel better. Tons better.

  My eyes unnarrowed and I felt my lips tip up.

  “Sorry, darling. It’s impossible today,” Dominic told her.

  “Well, can you squeeze me in sometime Tuesday?” she asked Dominic and, now feeling helpful, I moved to the schedule book, flipping it open and turning pages.

  “Let me see…” I entered the conversation, scanning the scribbles on Dominic’s columns as well as Kayeleen’s. Then I looked at Misty. “Sorry, babe. Nothing open. All booked up.” I flipped the page then another then another and kept going until I was two weeks out and told her, “Got an opening two weeks Thursday. Two o’clock. That good for you?”

  She stared at me. Then she whispered cautiously, “I need it Tuesday. Can you move someone around?”

  “Nope,” Dominic answered for me and her eyes went to him. “Tell you what, my lovely, couple places in Chantelle, they do decent work. Maybe they can fit you in. Lexie here will book you now, though, so if they can’t, I can take you in a couple of weeks. You just call, you get in in Chantelle.”

  “Everyone in Carnal gets their hair done by you or Kayeleen. I can’t go to Chantelle,” she told him.

  “Precious, listen,” Dominic returned, his voice getting tight, he was losing patience. “I’d love to help you but I’ve said I can’t and I can’t. Sorry your man isn’t gonna be happy but, Misty, I told you before, you need me, you call two, three weeks in advance. I got a bunch of biker bitches who have standing appointments. They do not change. And you do not ask those bitches to change. Now, you work with Lexie here, get yourself a standing appointment so you can avoid disappointment. You can’t get in at Chantelle, go to the drugstore, buy a bottle and I’ll sort out the damage when you get in.” The bell over the door went, my eyes moved to it and Dominic kept talking. “There she is, my one o’clock. Hello you!” he called then back to Misty he said, “Lexie will set you up. Enjoy Chace’s thing, darling.” Then to his customer. “Get over here, gorgeous. Let’s touch up that beauty.” And then he bustled away as his biker babe client moved toward him while eyeing Misty with unconcealed disdain at the same time eyeing me with unconcealed curiosity.

  I ignored this, settled in my roller chair and grabbed a gel pen with a fine tip and flowers printed on the sides of it that wrote in purple ink, the only thing in Dominic’s pen holder which also happened to be purple (as was much of the interior of the salon not to mention the sign outside) but the pen holder also had glittered white butterflies on it (as did the outside sign).

  I pulled off the cap and positioned the tip on the schedule book.

  “So,” I said, smiling brightly up at bitch-face Misty, “two weeks Thursday? Two o’clock?”

  Her eyes slid down to me. “Uh…”

  “Then standing appointment every six weeks?” I asked.

  “Um…” she mumbled.

  I tipped my head to the side.

  She bit her lip.

  “Thursday? Two weeks? Two o’clock?” I prompted.

  “I, uh… okay,” she said.

  “Excellent,” I bent my head and wrote her name in, missing out the “bitch-face” part (for obvious reasons). Once done, I looked back at her, still smiling and asked, “Does Dominic have your number?”

  “Yes, um… I think so.”

  “Okay then, you need an appointment card?”

  “Uh, no, I’ll remember.”

  She wouldn’t, the idiot. She didn’t remember Chace’s big thing on Tuesday night, no way she’d remember an appointment with Dominic.

  However, this could also mean that she had no intention of taking the appointment. Seeing as I worked there, she was probably thinking she’d make her standing appointment in Chantelle, no matter that everyone in Carnal took advantage of a talent that should be in New York or LA but was in a small town in the Colorado Mountains because his gay partner happened to be a mountain man.

  I didn’t care whether she missed it or moved stylists, either way worked for me. Though I hoped for the latter as that would mean I’d have less chance of seeing her again.

  “All righty,” I said. “Then we’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

  She stared at me. Then she bit her lip. Then, for some totally insane reason, she went for it.

  “You’re Ty’s new wife, aren’t you?”

  Bitch, bitch, bitch.

  How fucking dare she mention Ty to me.

  Bitch!

  “Yep,” I replied on another dazzling smile.

  “I, uh…” her eyes slid beyond me to where Dominic was whispering under his breath with his client then back to me where she said softly, “Do you know who I am?”

  “You mean do I know you were the one who was fucking Ty’s brains out when someone in LA was committing murder?” I asked back and watched her blanch. “Oh yeah, I know who you are.”

  She lifted a hand and I saw it was trembling before she tucked hair behind her ear and dropped it.

  “He told you that?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “He told me. But that was then. This is now. New life. New wife. It’s all good,” I lied and I knew she bought it because she blinked.

  “Really?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Sure. We’re happy. It’s all good.”

  “So he’s not mad at me?”

  It was my turn to blink. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t believe it.

  Was she that dumb?

  I mean, seriously?

  “Now, why would he be mad at you, Misty?” I asked softly. “Are you saying you lied to the police and he was fucking your brains out in Carnal while someone was committing murder in LA?”

  Her torso rocked back an inch and she answered quickly, “No, no. I didn’t do that.”

  “’Course you didn’t,” I said it like I didn’t believe it because I didn’t believe it because the fucking bitch was lying.

  She studied me and I could swear her lips were quivering.

  Then she quickly pulled her shades out of her black-rooted, blonde hair and shoved them on her face.

  “Well, uh… nice to meet you and, um… see you in a few weeks.”

  “Can’t wait,” I forced out with a bright smile.

  She nodded, looked over my shoulder, turned and hurried out.

  I watched the doors close behind her then clenched my fists. Then I deep breathed. Then I watched her through the half-closed slats as she got in her car and pulled out of the space in front of the salon.

  Then I immediately got up and turned to Dominic.

  “I’m sorry, c
an I have a break? I need to run to the garage. I won’t be long. There’s something I need to talk to my husband about.”

  “Bet you do,” the woman in the chair, a client I’d never met, stated instantly, her mouth was tight, her eyes glittering and shrewd, her overall look screaming biker babe. “Know Ty. Know who you are too. Know that bitch fucked him one way, got her shit off then fucked him another way that got his shit totally fucked. And I also know you just gave a performance good enough to win a fuckin’ award. I could trust myself to move and not do it to take that bitch down, I would have clapped.”

  I blinked though I didn’t know why she surprised me. I’d been learning through on the job training that biker babes didn’t really beat around the bush and I’d long since learned that Ty was a man who was well-liked.

  “Yes, precious,” Dominic answered my request softly, my body jerked out of its surprise, I looked to him, saw his eyes warm and understanding on me and realized then that he knew too and this was probably what they’d been whispering about because I also knew Dominic had been in town just under four years and he’d never said boo to me about Ty and unless gossip was shared while Ty was doing time and he was just too polite to mention it (which wasn’t Dominic’s way), he didn’t know until now. “Take all the time you need.”

  I nodded, grabbed my shades off the desk and started to the door.

  “When you see Ty, tell him Avril says hi,” the biker babe called after me, I waved behind me, shot a smile over my shoulder then went out.

  The salon was about six blocks away from the garage on the same side of the road. We worked close but I hadn’t yet hoofed it down there. Ty and I spent a lot of time together and I pushed the time we spent together to distract him from other things. I didn’t want to seem clingy so I gave him space during the day. But I also liked my time with Dominic, Kayeleen and the clients at the salon, I didn’t get but half an hour for lunch and I used that to continue my perusal of Carnal and acquaint myself with local lunchtime takeaway eateries.

  But Ty needed to know what just went down and the way I played it. I was hoping he wasn’t doing what he wanted to be doing but if he was, he’d need to know. Even if he wasn’t, seeing as Avril knew all about it, it would get back to him eventually so, again, he needed to know.

  And it needed to be me who told him.

  I didn’t hurry. Anyone seeing me would think I just felt like a visit and by “anyone”, I was worried that Misty was still around and watching. I got to the end of Main Street, turned the corner on my high-heeled platform sandals and walked as casually as I could across the forecourt.

  “Yo, Ty!” I heard shouted from the shadows of the bay and I knew I’d been spotted but not by who. Not visiting him at work meant I did not know his workmates, except Pop and Wood.

  Then I saw Ty, no coveralls this time, jeans and tee, tee greasy, jeans too (this meaning I was again going to be at the stain remover in the utility room, something I was getting to be a dab hand at), black mark covered rag in his hands. He’d come to the opening of the bay where he stopped and leveled his eyes on me.

  I got close, those eyes narrowed and he started moving again, his long legs eating the distance right to me.

  Apparently, even my shades didn’t hide my mood. Definitely should never play poker.

  He met me in the forecourt, got close, toe-to-toe and bent his neck so he could lock his beautiful, light brown eyes with my shades.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I sucked in breath then shook my head. “Nothing… nothing big,” I took in another breath. “I’m just shaken up. Shaken and pissed. And, well, you should know, so I’m here to tell you. Misty came into the salon to get her hair done.”

  Ty’s eyes didn’t leave me, not even to blink and he asked, “And how did that go?”

  “I smiled. I made her appointment. I was nice.”

  “And?” Ty prompted when I said no more.

  “And, she asked if I knew who she was. I told her I did. I laid it out what I knew but also told her we were happy and moving on.”

  I watched Ty’s jaw clench.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Was that wrong?”

  “She ain’t stupid pussy, she’s just toxic pussy. She’s gotta know I’m gonna tell my wife that shit so, no, it wasn’t wrong.”

  I took in a deep breath and relaxed, not even realizing I was as wound up as I was with worry that I’d fucked up.

  Then it hit me so I asked, “She’s not stupid pussy?”

  “Fuck no.”

  I felt my brows draw together. “Really?”

  “Uh… yeah, babe. Really. Outta her deal she got Chace Keaton’s ring. He didn’t mind dippin’ into that twat but he didn’t wanna put a ring on it. He’s a cop but his Daddy is not. Aspen money. Moved out from under his father’s thumb to be his own man. Doesn’t mean he’s not gonna accept his inheritance when Daddy dies, seein’ as he’s an only child.”

  I shook my head. “If he’s got money, he’s got connections. Are you saying they leaned on him, made him marry Misty? Are you saying that’s what she got out of the deal?”

  “She spread for me but she was a girl who’d never take black home to Daddy. Never. She spread for Keaton with her sights set. So, yeah. That’s what she got out of the deal.”

  “You know this for sure?”

  “Only word I got on that is Tate’s so, again, yeah, I know this for sure. Don’t know how he got it but I know whatever his source, he wouldn’t repeat it unless it was solid.”

  “Why would Keaton do that?” I asked.

  Ty’s face dipped closer. “Because, baby, he wanted to be his own man, he became his own man and when he did, he made a dirty bed. That doesn’t mean Daddy doesn’t loom. That motherfucker is dirty and they know just exactly how he’s dirty. And they would not give one shit about settin’ one of their own blowin’ in the wind, they needed to do that. He does not want Daddy to know that shit, he does not want to take that hit from Daddy and he does not want Daddy to find a nice charity to give his cake after he dies because he’d rather save some fuckin’ near-extinct bird than give his dirty cop son who shit all over the family name his money. So Keaton either took one for the team or they let him blow. He took one for the team and bought a lifetime of toxic cunt.”

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” his lips twitched then, “wow.”

  Well, there you go. That explained why things at home for Misty weren’t so hot. He might have taken one for the team but he hadn’t promised he’d spend his lifetime pretending he liked it.

  “Just FYI, hubby, Misty gave some things away at the salon and I’m not sure it’s all hearts and flowers in chez Keaton,” I shared.

  That got me a grin. “Good news, mama. ‘Specially since things are exactly hearts and flowers at chez Walker.”

  My heart flipped and it felt good because his words felt good and I whispered, “Ty.”

  His hand came up and curled around my neck just as his head dipped closer. “You made my day, baby,” he whispered then finished, “And not just because I got to watch you struttin’ your sweet ass through the forecourt in those shoes and shorts.”

  I grinned at my husband then I whispered back, “Good.”

  His hand gave me a squeeze. “That all you got?”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly she, uh… well, Ty, no joke, after I told her we were happy and it was all good, bitch-face Misty asked if you were mad at her.”

  Just like me, he blinked.

  Then he asked, “No shit?”

  I shook my head. “No shit.”

  He kept his hand where it was but lifted his head and looked over mine, muttering, “Fuck me.”

  “I’m thinking, the last five years, a bleach blonde with an unhappy home life is rethinking the deal she made and which man she left blowing in the wind,” I noted, his eyes tipped down to me and I noticed instantly he was no longer feeling in a warm and squishy mood.

  His growled, “Don
’t give a fuck,” confirmed it.

  “Me either, except I hope every day she wakes up to a man who doesn’t want her and every night she goes to bed beside him, that bitch-face chokes on her decision until the bile she forces down grows so much it cuts off her air forever and leaves doctors stumped at her untimely but deserved demise.”

  After I was done, Ty blinked again. Then his fingers at my neck got super tight as he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  I smiled but didn’t laugh since I was watching him.

  Then he looked back at me but again dipped his face close, “Shit, mama, remind me not to piss you off.”

  “Okay, don’t piss me off.”

  He grinned and I returned it because I was pleased I’d brought back his good mood.

  Then I said, “I gotta get back to work, honey.”

  His hand at my neck brought me closer while he muttered, “Yeah.”

  Then his mouth was on mine, he kissed me short but it was wet and it was hot. Then his mouth broke from mine and he whispered, “Later, mama.”

  “Later, Ty,” I whispered back and he smiled at me, straight out, no lips turned up, no grin, a big, beautiful one and I loved that, I loved that those were coming more often, more relaxed, more natural.

  I loved it.

  Then he gave my neck one last squeeze, let me go and turned away.

  If I’d have known what was going to happen that night, I would have taken my chance to watch him go. I would have made him kiss me longer. I would have tried to make him laugh one more time.

  But I didn’t know.

  And since I didn’t know, I, too, turned and walked away.

  * * * * *

  I was on my way home from work after popping to the store to pick up some stuff for dinner and the elaborate dessert I had planned (whipped cream and chocolate pudding parfaits with chocolate sprinkles) and just in case Julius needed snacks while we were at work.

  And I was just outside of Carnal when I saw the police lights flash and heard the short, warning whir of the siren before it was shut off.

  I looked to my rearview mirror, felt the adrenalin rush then my eyes instantly went to my speedometer.

  After what Tate said at Bubba’s, I’d memorized the speed limits in and around Carnal. Thirty in town. Forty on the stretch I was on between town, the turn off to our condo and beyond for another half mile. Then fifty-five all the way to Chantelle.

 

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