“Oh-ha-ha!” Amber said, breaking from the pack. “You thought she was tearing one of our heads off!”
Staci and Morgan collapsed onto bean bags chairs, tears accompanying their screams and chortles. Amber pointed at Wade, his expression open and gaping, and Mari followed after her, the two of them hopping and shouting over one another.
“I know it’s true,” Amber said, barely able to get the words out. “I saw you sitting in your car, staring at us.”
Priscilla tilted her head to one side, that smile on her face teasing. “Is this true, Mr. Prince? Did you think that I, uh ...”?
“Decapitated one of us! Hahahaha ...” Amber put her head on Priscilla’s shoulder, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. “That’s the best, Cilla.”
He felt ... exposed. Annoyed. Embarrassed. But as he watched the pandemonium of cheerfulness in what was often a rather somber room punctuated with fits of sarcasm, he could not help but roll his own eyes at his knee-jerk take on Priscilla’s teaching skills.
Wade shook his head, unable to conceal his smile, albeit a self-deprecating one. “All right, settle down,” he said, unable to look as stern as he attempted to sound.
Priscilla turned her full attention to the girls and handed the mannequin head to Staci, who promptly placed it back on a stand that looked much like a tripod. The girl sighed. “Best day ever.”
As he backed out of the room, Wade’s smile faded. Why had he jumped to conclusions like that? The girls had seen right through him. And Priscilla? Undoubtedly, she questioned his ability to reason. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, soothing away the ache that had settled there.
Wade began to sense fissures in the protection he had built around himself, and he did not like that one bit. From the moment he had met Priscilla out on the inn’s lawn, warning flags had alerted him to be on his guard. She seemed ... well, too good to be true. Now as he thought back on the ridiculous way he burst into the girls’ lounge, he wondered if perhaps he had been hoping to prove himself right.
Well, that was something ... else. Priscilla pressed her lips together, a curl of laughter rising. Wade had barreled into the room with mental guns drawn.
So dramatic.
Maybe she should have mentioned to him that she had planned to come out here to meet with the girls. But she hadn’t seen him lately, so was alerting the press expected? She glanced around the room as the girls packed up their things. Once the idea of getting involved here, of putting feet to her thoughts, had entered her head, there was no turning back.
Pretty much the way she’d lived her life for as long as she could remember.
Amber caught her eye.
“Have you changed your mind?” Priscilla asked her.
“Yeah. I think so.” The strawberry blonde tilted her head to the side, eyeing herself in the mirror. “I mean, you could try. If you want to.”
“Absolutely.” Priscilla patted a chair. “Here. Sit.”
Amber plopped into the chair. The other girls took notice and put their things down again.
“You gonna get a waterfall braid?” Staci asked.
Amber glanced at Priscilla, her eyes upturned and questioning.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Priscilla said. “Watch closely. I’ll talk through the steps so that you can all learn how to do this.”
She parted Amber’s hair and gathered a thick section. “Okay, so here I’m going to divide this section into three parts.”
The girls all leaned forward, observing.
“We’ll start with the back piece, cross it over the middle like this.” She demonstrated. “Then take the front section and cross it over the middle next.”
She moved slowly through the process, careful to allow each of the girls enough time to learn what she was doing. They watched as she continued as she had started, and added hair to each new strand, creating a French braid.
“Okay, now here’s where you need to pay extra attention.” She held up the section of Amber’s hair that she was working on. “You’ll want to drop this front section down now and pick up a strand of hair behind it instead. Okay? Now, cross it over the middle instead of that piece you just dropped down.”
Several “oohs” punctuated the silence of the room. When she was finished, she brushed Amber’s unbraided hair and turned her around. “Voila!”
“That’s awesome!” Mari said.
Morgan clucked her tongue. “Piece of cake.”
Priscilla leaned forward so her cheek was nearly touching Amber’s. “What do you think? Do you like the look on you?”
Amber nodded. Her eyes glistened.
Priscilla frowned. “Is something wrong?” she whispered. “Do you want me to take it out?”
The door opened with a click and Wade stood at the entrance, quiet, his dark brows framing piercing eyes. Priscilla’s throat caught and she looked away, back to the young girl who had shown unexpected emotion.
Quickly, Amber wiped her eyes with her fingers and shook her head. She jumped out of the chair and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Are you ready to go?” Wade asked, oblivious to the moment he’d had a hand in ending. “I thought we could walk out together.”
Priscilla swung a peek at Amber, who no longer looked as if she had just lost her favorite bracelet. Mari and Staci had slung their backpacks over their shoulders and were now examining Amber’s hairstyle closely.
Wade cut in. “If you’re ready, that is.”
She grabbed her bag, said goodbye to the girls, and they walked out together. “You drove all the way out here for a pretty short meeting,” she said to Wade as they strolled outside into the afternoon sun. In the short time that she had lived on California’s central coast, she’d learned that the weather was far less predictable than points south. Or inland, for that matter. The summer heat outside of the center was stifling, but she could arrive home in under an hour and find a marine layer had moved in and she would have to pull on a sweater.
“I’m not actually leaving right now.”
“No?”
He slowed his pace as they walked beneath the canopy of an evergreen. He leaned his head to one side, looking at her. She’d seen him do that before, but usually his eyes narrowed, as if scrutinizing something or someone. Priscilla had always figured this was one of the reasons for his success—he took his time considering all the angles about a deal before moving in.
He stopped and reached a hand to her elbow. This time, his gaze looked soft, his eyes round and inquiring. “I’m sorry that I—that I charged into the room like a madman.”
She felt a little sorry for him now. “For the record, I would never characterize you as a madman.”
“But?”
She smiled. “No buts. I wanted to clear that up. That’s all.”
He shifted. “But ... you do consider me to be difficult. I can see that in your eyes.”
“You make me sound like I have been judging you.” She shook her head. “If you knew me at all, Wade, you would know that I find it exhausting to live as judge and jury. That’s not me.”
He lifted his eyes from a downcast gaze. “Surely you have your opinions, though.”
She laughed lightly now. “Of course I do, darling. We all do. The trick is knowing which ones matter enough to act on and which should be filed in a virtual shredder.”
“That’s quite a trick.”
“It is.”
“I can’t say that I don’t agree with what you’ve said, although I do find it difficult at times to upset the inertia of constant motion.”
“Ah. There is where we are different. I crave rest as much as I crave purpose. They are not mutually exclusive, I have found.”
His dark eyes startled. Wade watched her face, as if formulating a response in the pause. He leaned his forearm on the trunk of the tree, his expression wistful. “You may find this difficult to believe, but despite a schedule that does not include much in the form of rest, I agree with y
ou.”
“I can tell.”
His eyes narrowed, but not in a condescending way. “Really? How so?”
“Look at the center, for example. The rest of the world sees a well-suited man marching by with a phone stuck in his ear, always working a deal. But these kids?”—she waved an open palm toward the building where directionless kids could find their way—“They light up around you and the people you have inspired to be here. They see someone who values purpose as much as laughter or rest, as you’ve given them that.”
He shook his head. “I’m not a perfect guy.”
“Well, darlin’, I know that too.”
He swung a full-mouthed smile at her. “See? You do have opinions in there. I knew it.” He paused, still smiling, and darted a look around the tree-lined street before returning his attention to her. “There’s a coffee place at the corner and I could use a cup. Join me before you leave?”
She agreed and they began to walk toward a strip mall several houses down from the center. The heat had zapped her appetite, but she liked the thought of a caffeine-infused iced coffee to keep her company on the ride home.
As they waited for their orders, Priscilla took a seat at a table toward the back that overlooked a wooden barrel overflowing with sweet peas. Corporate coffee had its perks, so to speak, but this place reminded her of climbing the steps up to her Aunt Jo’s porch and slipping into the kitchen through the back door. The cafe even smelled liked home.
Wade handed Priscilla her coffee and took the seat across from her.
She didn’t wait for an awkward moment to form. “You mentioned the other day that there were some funding issues with the center. Has the situation calmed some, I mean, after you’ve emptied your savings and all?”
He jerked a look at her. A smile settled on his face, as if he understood she was teasing.
“Seriously,” she said. “Are things better?”
Wade took a long sip of his coffee. He set his cup down. “Somewhat. But let’s not talk about that right now—tell me instead about your interest in EduCenter.”
“It’s not all that complicated, really. I have something to offer and the time to offer it, so I jumped in.”
“There has to be more to it than that.”
She gaped at him. “Why does there have to be?”
He took another swig of coffee. A delay tactic, perhaps?
She continued. “Now that we’re done talking about me—”
He coughed out a laugh. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?”
“Why, yes, of course.” She smiled openly at him now. “You mentioned you have a sister. Is she involved in the center?”
At the mention of his sister, Wade frowned. His gaze dropped to his cup, where it lingered in his hand. He blew out a sigh and returned his focus to her, though his expression had dulled some.
“Did I bring up something that you’d rather not talk about?”
He shook his head distractedly. “To answer your question, yes, my sister, Gwynnie, has at times visited the center. In fact, my niece, Sadie, is treated like a princess whenever she comes along.”
“Rightly so.”
“Yes,” he said, his face deadpan, before recovering. “Actually, I’m in the doghouse with her right now.”
“I can’t imagine why.” She was good at deadpanning too.
He pointed at her briefly. “You know, if you were one of my employees I would have to consider firing you for such a remark.”
“Well, then, good thing I’m happily employed.”
“Here’s the thing: My sister had a disastrous marriage. I never wanted her to marry her husband, though I’m glad she did because my niece is an incredible creature.”
“But you still don’t like that she ignored your advice about marrying him in the first place.”
His eyes caught with hers. She knew she had drawn a trickle of blood.
“The bottom line is that Dak—her ex—squandered the money our father left us.”
“While you turned yours into millions.”
“Now you’re making me sound like a jackass.”
She gave him a kind smile. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“I wish she would have stood up to him. Better yet, why didn’t she come to me? I could have advised her—she knows I would have.”
“Did he bully her in any way?”
Those dark eyes of his turned even darker. “Not in the way you mean.”
“How do I mean?”
“He didn’t beat her. I would have known and I would have taken care of it.”
“Sounds like that would have involved cannoli or something,” she said in her best imitation.
Wade turned an incredulous look on her. Understanding appeared to dawn and with it, a small smile. “Like that scene in The Godfather. Right.”
“I’m not talking only about a physical act, Wade. Some foes can be quite subtle in their mistreatment.”
His smile faded and he stared at her for a long beat. She surmised that she’d said too much, the conversation becoming too personal, uncomfortable.
When he didn’t respond, she added, “I wish your sister the best as she moves on. Who knows? Maybe we’ll have a chance to meet sometime.”
“Gwynnie would like you. I can see that you are on her side already.”
Priscilla rolled her eyes, unconcerned with how “unladylike” it may have looked. “Please. I’m not taking sides here. All I can say is that we all have different strengths. Your sister was a working mother—pretty heroic if you ask me. Maybe she thought her husband was honorable and that he would do for her what she didn’t have time or energy to do for herself.”
Wade didn’t reply, but Priscilla couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was as if she were on some type of roll. “Really, Wade. How is it different from you handing over a million bucks to EduCenter in its time of need?”
“It’s not the same.”
She pursed her lips and stared him down for a beat. “Here’s how I see it,” she said, finally.
He scoffed, his eyes lively. “Oh so now you’re going to tell me how you see it?”
She leaned forward, pointing at him. “Seriously. Your sister trusted her husband. If I’m not mistaken, you said they married in church. Was it a Christian ceremony?”
“How would that matter?”
“Well, darling, that means he promised to love her as Christ loves the Church. And that means Christ would not steal from her. She trusted him, and he failed her. It’s on him.”
She sat back triumphant.
He considered her, his eyes unwavering, the telltale sign he gave when he was mulling something intensely. Finally, he began, “I wish ...”
“You wish?”
The unwavering eyes gave way to a flash of defeat. “That things had been different.”
“Don’t we all?” She exhaled and slowly shook her head. “We can’t redo anything but we can grab opportunities to start fresh.”
He drained his coffee cup, his eyes trained on hers. “Like moving across the country to the best coast.”
She stared back at him. “Something like that.”
Chapter 6
Priscilla released her wavy red hair from a silk scrunchie, allowing it to cascade onto her shoulders. The waves rolled in fiercely tonight, but she welcomed their energy. The sun began its descent, but still had a way to go before bidding adieu. She walked along the meandering path, allowing the surge of salt-coated air to revive her.
Truthfully, her feet were killing her, but so were her hands. The new intern, Edna, accidentally spilled an entire jar of Barbicide on the counter where Priscilla had been sprucing up her cuticles between clients. Priscilla shut her eyes tightly. How was the poor girl to know that the stuff could burn skin? That it was meant to clean combs and should always—as in always—be diluted with water first?
She made a mental note to ask the spa manager to make sure new recruits were informed of this important tidbit.
Sh
e found a spot at the railing and leaned against it, breathing in briny air. Down below on the sand, couples walked so close together that no light could seep between them. Truthfully, she was surrounded by happy people these days. Sophia and Christian had just returned from their honeymoon, their expressions reflecting their deeper connection. Meg and Jackson had overcome their troubles to create a beautiful family together. And Liddy and Beau, though she didn’t know them as well as the others, glowed with love for each other every time she encountered them.
She was happy for all of them. Truly. And if Priscilla had learned anything during her trials, it was that she did not need a man to make her life complete ... although if one were to come along who looked at her the way all three of her new friends’ husbands looked at them? Well. She wouldn’t be opposed to that kind of thing.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of hand gel infused with lavender essential oil and rubbed the healing concoction into her parched skin.
Eventually, hunger turned in her stomach, so Priscilla pushed away from the railing that skirted the path along the sea and headed for the restaurant. Most people choose not to stay at their place of employment for fun, but ever since she walked into Sea Glass Inn the year before to search for her old friend Meg, and perhaps get a glimpse of a mermaid, she’d been mesmerized by the place. If she could lease a suite to stay in full-time, she would.
“Hi Priscilla,” Trace said. “Heard the newbie scalded you today. You should put some butter on that.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Priscilla held up her fingers for Trace to see. “For now, my hand gel is working quite well, but I’ll try your antidote when I’m home.”
“You’re always so positive. That’s what I like about you!” Trace shoved a fist into her side and cocked her chin toward the cafe. “If you’re goin’ into that restaurant, make sure they give you the employee discount. Otherwise there’s no way you can afford that food on your hairdresser salary.”
“Thank you for your sweet concern, Trace.”
A wolf whistle rudely interrupted their banter.
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