If He Only Knew...

“Girl, I don’t know what that guy did to you.”

Sara lifted her horrified gaze to her hairdresser’s reflection in the mirror. How could Chloe possibly know about Cody? No one knew. Except Sara’s sister. And the ladies from Eve’s Apple, the Web site where women went to vent or ask advice about men, anonymously if they chose.

“I could’ve given you a better cut with my eyes closed.”

Sara relaxed. As much as she could. Her nerves were shot from lack of sleep. She’d only been back in Atlanta for a month, but with all the family obligations it seemed like a year.

“I can’t believe you’ve been walking around like this. You should’ve come to see me as soon as you got back.” Chloe’s hair was red this month, her green eyes rimmed with too much black. “Everybody makes a big deal out of New York and L.A. hairdressers. They treat them like frackin’ gurus.” She held up a thick blond lock of Sara’s hair and frowned at the dry ends. “How much did you pay for this highlighting?”

“None of your business.”

“Come on.”

Her experience in New York hadn’t lived up to her expectations. In fact, it’d gone bad. All she’d wanted was to live like anyone else. Earn her keep. What she hadn’t counted on was meeting Cody Shea, and having her life turned upside down. She thought about him way too much as it was, she had no desire to talk about it, not even with Chloe. “Would you forget it, already?”

“How many years have I been doing your hair? How many boyfriends have we gone through together?”

Sara raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, so they were all mine. The point is, I tell you everything.”

“Yes, you do. Whether I want to hear it or not.”

Chloe grinned. “Speaking of which, guess where I’m going tonight?” She paused, and before Sara could hazard a guess, she said, “The French Riviera.”

“Just for the weekend?”

“No, for a whole week. It’s our annual convention.”

“Are we talking hairdressers or nudists?”

“Please.” Chloe set the mixed color solution aside and got out the foil squares. “Like I’d fork out that much money to spend the week with a bunch of prima donnas who think they know more about hair than I do.”

“Of course not.” Smiling, Sara watched her strategically choose strands to highlight and then clip them off to the side.

In the ten years that Sara had known Chloe, she’d gone from a cosmetology graduate to one of Atlanta’s most popular and expensive hairstylists. Admittedly, discovering that Chloe was a nudist had been somewhat of a surprise. Sara couldn’t grasp the attraction. Running around naked, in the stark sunlight, every flaw on full display. The thought alone gave her the vapors.

“Shelby still in Europe?”

“Last I heard. But you know how my sister is.”

“I haven’t read about her in the local papers lately so I figured she was still out of town. Hey, is that a new bracelet?”

Sara automatically touched the row of abstract gold hearts, unwanted memories filling her head. Stupid to even wear the thing, but she hadn’t taken it off since that night. “I got it in New York.”

“But you hate bracelets. You don’t even like wearing a watch.”

“Don’t go too light,” Sara said, eyeing the bowl of color solution Chloe had dipped the brush in and started to work on the pre-selected strands.

“You’re a natural blonde. How light can I go?” Chloe said, as she wrapped a square of foil around the strand.

Sara said nothing. All she’d really wanted to do was distract Chloe from the bracelet. She glanced down at it. Were those really hearts or was that what she wanted to see? She’d browsed in Tiffany’s often, and even had several of the store’s signature gifts given to her tucked away in her drawers, but she’d never seen this style.

“You gonna get that?” Chloe nudged her chin toward the cell phone Sara had left on the counter. The ringing cell phone.

She’d been expecting an important call from her father and grabbed the phone before the call went to voice mail. The second she pushed the button she saw that the call was from New York. Too late. She had to answer. Anyway, it could be Dakota. “Hello?”

“Sara.”

Except that it was Cody. Her throat constricted. For a second she couldn’t speak.

“Sara?”

“Yes.” She looked at Chloe who was staring at her with curiosity. “Um, could you hold on a moment?” She lowered the phone to her side so that he couldn’t hear and struggled to her feet, getting tangled in the cape and tugging it from around her neck.

Brush in midair, Chloe backed out of her way. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

Sara didn’t answer. Nor did she acknowledge the stares of the other clients as she hurried through the salon in the pink silk robe and with packets of foil wrapped in her hair. She went past the reception desk and straight out into the street before bringing the phone to her ear again.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to blend into the landscaped courtyard beside the entrance.

“Is this a bad time?” His deep voice went right through her, taking her back to that night. That kiss.

“No, not really. I’m just surprised to hear from you.” She figured Dakota might have called, but never Cody.

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Really surprised?”

“Yes. Really.” She turned her back to a couple strolling by on the sidewalk. When a teenage boy riding a skateboard slowed down near her to stare, she glared at him. “What?”

“I beg your pardon?” Cody asked uncertainly.

“No, not you. It was this kid—”

“This is a bad time.”

“No, I mean—is there anything in particular you wanted?” That came out totally wrong. She should’ve sent him a thank-you note for the bracelet. She’d even made several attempts. But in the end, cowardice won over manners.

After a long pause, he said, “How about I call you back later?”

“No, it’s okay. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for the bracelet.” The breathless words were barely out of her mouth when she heard the salon door open and turned to see Chloe frowning at her.

“You realize you can exchange it if you don’t like it.”

She gave Chloe her back and lowered her voice. “Oh, no, I love it. I’m wearing it right now, in fact.”

“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Look, the reason I called is to ask if you’d have dinner with me.”

“Dinner?” Was he kidding? “When?”

“Tonight.”

“But—” In the background, she heard a woman’s voice announcing that a flight to Acapulco had been delayed. “Where are you?”

“Here. Atlanta.”