Chapter 11
I’m twenty-five percent sure last night was some weird messed-up dream. The other and obviously larger and more sane part of my brain is aware it wasn’t but still struggles to believe it.
I agreed to help the FBI. And the worst part? They swore me to secrecy.
Clearly, they know nothing about me or they never would have put our country in this kind of danger.
“Amelia, are you okay?” Leah asks.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
She looks around the near-empty salon then back at me and lowers her voice. “Because you just told that potted plant you work for the FBI now.”
I look down to find one of the fig leaves between my hands. Seems I was petting it as well.
I shut my mouth before I give away any more national secrets. Releasing the mini tree, I walk back to my station, where I should be. “I read an article last week that said if you tell your plants funny stories every day, they become a more vibrant color and I wanted to test it out.”
Her blue eyes widen as she tries to follow my train of thought. I don’t blame her, that was a wild one.
“Okay…”
“Anyway,” I continue because now I’m on a roll, “I won’t be able to talk to it every day and I was demonstrating so you can take over on the days I’m not here.”
She looks concerned, whether about talking to a plant or about me I’m not sure.
“Do all the stylists know about this?” she asks, her voice a whisper.
“Why wouldn’t they?” I smile up at her while sweeping up the hair around my station. She probably thinks I’m insane.
Heck, after last night, I might even believe it.
I did say I wanted an adventure. Dying might not be fun, but solving a mystery could be exactly the thing I need to get me out of my slump. And working with Caleb wouldn’t be all that bad. He’s incredibly fun to annoy, and I’ve missed having someone to annoy since Connor and I moved out of our parent’s house.
I can’t believe I get to work on a real case.
I’m like Shawn Spencer. Only I’m not pretending to be psychic. If I’m Shawn that makes Caleb…Juliet. The detective and Shawn’s on-screen love interest. They end up together in the series. But they don’t have to in real life. Though with the way Caleb makes my heart speed up like I chugged thirteen espressos, I’m not opposed to the idea.
The doorbell chimes and Maddie comes running in.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
I glance at my phone. “By two minutes? You call that late? I call that awkwardly early.”
She raises a brow. “Then what’s early?”
“I don’t know, I never am.”
She shakes her head and sits down in my chair. I’ve already got her color ready to go on my cart, so I pick up the drape and drop it over her.
“How are the girls?” I ask as I begin sectioning off her hair to add highlights.
“So good. The team is going to be unstoppable this year.” Her face lights up. Maddie coaches a high school volleyball team and pours her heart and soul not only into teaching the girls the sport but encouraging and cheering for them off the court as well. She’s the only coach in the school running summer camps in June. I wish more of the teachers had the ambition and persistence she does. But I hope she doesn’t burn out. I’ve seen it too many times already and I only teach an after-school program once a week during the school year.
“Did I tell you Diedre is going to start on the university team?” she asks.
“Only a hundred times.” I chuckle.
“I’m so proud of all of them.” She sighs happily, perfectly content with how her life has turned out. She took a bad situation and made something even better for herself.
She’s an inspiration for me to do the same. And for the first time since I broke up with Justin, I feel like I am. I mean, I’m working for the freaking FBI! It doesn’t get better than that.
“Did you say something?” Maddie asks.
“Nope!” I squeak.
My phone buzzes on the cart beside Maddie’s face but my hands are covered in dye so I ask her to look at it.
She picks up the phone and scowls. “Why is Justin calling you?”
Again?
“Something about him missing me terribly,” I say, avoiding her gaze. “He wants me back, blah blah blah.”
“Do we need to get a restraining order on him?”
“This is the ex?” Leah leans over from her station to get a peek at the screen.
“He’s no one,” I say to clarify for every busybody in the salon.
Something clatters to the floor and I jump.
Leah’s scissors are spread open on the checkerboard tile where my feet once were.
“Leah?”
“Oh.” She blinks and scoops up the shears by the blade.
“What are you doing?” I screech.
“Oops. I’m so klutzy.” She drops the shears on her cart and looks at the woman in her chair. “Just a moment, Lucy. I think I grabbed the wrong color.”
Leah rushes off to the color room with her bowl and I turn my attention back to Maddie’s gorgeous locks and determined expression.
“I’m calling him back and telling him to take a hike,” she says.
“No way, put the phone down. Don’t make me color your hair red.” I hold a strand of her hair as hostage.
“Then I’ll tell him you’ve acquired legal counsel and will file a restraining order if he doesn’t stop contacting you,” she says, fingers already hovering over the call button, waiting for my approval.
“He’s just lonely. He’ll find someone else to shack up with and forget about me.” Like he did last time.
She purses her lips. “Fine. But if he keeps bugging you let me know.”
The last thing I want to do is add more to her plate. I can get rid of an annoying ex by myself. I’ve done it before.
“Yes ma’am.”