Chapter 7
MILLIE
Lacey’s choice of vehicle shouldn’t have surprised me.
After being shown bits and pieces of her personality while having her as my personal shopper, it should have been obvious that she was a bit out of the box.
The purple Volkswagen van she drives down Cherry Peak’s Main Street draws eyes, and I sink into the seat a bit, wishing I had some sunglasses to hide beneath.
The itch on my scalp has me scratching at it again until it feels too raw. I bite down on my cheek and sigh.
“Does your head hurt?” she asks, glancing my way before pulling into an angled parking stall.
“It was the shampoo I used at the campground. I’m not used to it.”
“Want to stop at the salon before we hit the boutique?”
My jaw nearly unhinges. “There’s a salon here? In this town?”
“Yes.” Lacey laughs, turning off the van. “Thistle and Thorn comes highly recommended. I’m not sure Anna will have a spot open for an appointment, but she does have shampoos and things like that there.”
I get out of the van in super speed, already up on the sidewalk by the time she’s opened her door.
My new shoes are far more comfortable than they look like they should be, and I’m taking full advantage of that with my quick pace.
The wooden sign for the salon is just up the street, swaying in the breeze.
“You really move in those shoes,” Lacey calls, rushing behind me. “How can you walk in those so well?”
“These are lower than I’m used to.”
“That makes a difference when the heels are that thin?”
“A little. I’ve just worn them a lot and gotten used to having to work on my balance.”
She hums. “Makes sense. Maybe you can give me some lessons sometime.”
“Do you have a special occasion coming up?” I ask with a quick look down at her fuzzy-booted feet.
“No. There aren’t really many special occasions that pop up in Oak Point for me to attend. I just figured I could give them a whirl and see what it is about fancy footwear that you seem to enjoy.”
“You could always use going to Peakside as a special occasion. That’s what you do around here for fun, right?”
“I guess so. Have you been there?”
I flash a subtle smile and let the question go before opening the salon door.
I’m not sure I want others to know about my first and only experience at that bar yet.
Shade could be completely unknown in Oak Point, or he could be their biggest celebrity.
I don’t know yet, and the uncertainty of whether I’m even ever going to see him again has me deciding to keep him to myself for the foreseeable future.
Stepping into the salon, the immediate smell of luxury shampoos and hairsprays is more than welcome. I breathe it in greedily, the itch in my scalp disappearing long enough for me to concentrate on what’s going on in front of me.
It’s busy but not to the point that it’s uncomfortable.
There are two women sitting in big black chairs parked in front of tall mirrors, and rows upon rows of hair care products along the opposite wall.
Bright and open, the space feels very cute.
With its checkered floors, light pink paint, and tons of gold fixtures, it’s unique and welcoming.
“I’ll be right with you, Lacey,” the woman behind the first chair says.
She’s concentrating on the brush between her fingers as she coats the hair in what I know to be bleach before tucking it away in a foil. I watch in fascination, never getting to be on this side of the process.
“No worries, Anna. We’re just going to browse a bit,” Lacey says.
The low beat of the music in here is soothing as I start looking over the various hair care products on the shelves. I bounce in place when I spot my shampoo and conditioner right in front of me.
“I owe you a thousand cups of coffee, Lacey,” I cheer while snagging a bottle of each.
“I’ll take you up on that.”
“Have you always had short hair?” I ask, gripping onto my products like I’m scared someone is going to come rip them away.
Lacey fiddles with her bangs. “Yep! I don’t have the desire to spend that much time on it or the money to keep up with the maintenance.”
“It looks good on you.”
“Thanks! Are you a natural blonde?”
“I’m going to bet yes, but if you didn’t get it lifted, it would be a bit darker, right?” Anna, the stylist, asks, coming up to us. There’s a towel in her hands that she’s using to wipe her fingers before offering me a hand. “I’m Anna Steele. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?”
“No, this is my first time,” I reply, shaking her extended hand.
Lacey grins. “She’s staying at Shimmer Lake.”
“I’m jealous. I’ve been here for a few years now and haven’t gone,” Anna says.
“I haven’t been to the lake yet. Just staying in the cabins there. I’m afraid I missed the proper time of year for a swim.”
“Maybe that’ll entice you to come back sometime,” Lacey suggests, a hopeful rise in her voice.
I nod, shifting awkwardly. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Have you used those before?” Anna’s focused on the bottles in my hands, a spark in her eyes that reminds me of my hairdresser back home.
“They’re my usual ones, actually. I had to use the complimentary brand in my cabin this morning, and I’m sure you can see how that went,” I explain with a wince.
Anna laughs softly and nods, taking in the dry strands. “I’ve got a couple of good leave-in conditioners, too, if you wanted to grab one. I can give you a sample.”
“I’ll take the whole thing! Load me up,” I ramble.
“You got it.”
I’m overeager but can’t find it in myself to care right now. The more help I get, the longer I can stay without needing to go back home. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to extend my stay for a few weeks. It’s not like my parents would have sent out a search party for me.
They probably think that I’ll be back before they could even get one situated. I’ve never been able to get them to take me seriously, and this won’t be any different. I’m just throwing a tantrum. Surely, I’ll just get over it.
They’re wrong.
By the time Lacey and I are pulling back into Oak Point, my stomach is grumbling. A diet of snack food and gas station sandwiches has had a bit of an ugly effect on my body, and I’m in desperate need of something that won’t make me want to curl into a ball all night.
“Want to grab something to eat at Maggie’s?” Lacey asks, having heard the grumbling.
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’m sure my mom’s found her way over to the shop by now.”
“You two run it together?”
“Well, it’s technically my grandmother’s, but we’ve taken over for her now that she’s gotten too old,” she says.
We pull into a spot in front of the diner as I say, “That’s nice of you.”
“Yeah, it’s what you do for family, right?”
An ache grows in my chest. “Right.”
“Well, come on. I’ll point out all the best things on the menu for you.”
“You have to let me buy you lunch, then,” I counter.
“Hook, line, and sinker, baby, you got me.”
My laugh is genuine, so much so that it takes me by surprise.
We get out of the van, and I focus too hard on that.
On how truly unhappy I’ve been that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to enjoy myself.
I’m twenty-six and have never had as much fun as I’ve had today with a woman I only met a few hours ago.
How is that possible when all we’ve done is buy hair care products and handmade panties?
Lacey takes my hand and leads me through the doors and into a booth tucked in the corner of the diner. It’s . . . dramatically orange in here, and I think that helps pull me out of the hole my thoughts have crawled into.
“You’re going to love this place. Do you like lemonade? Maggie makes the best strawberry lemonade. I swear I could drink it every single day.”
I swallow, lowering my eyes to the menu Lacey’s already opened in front of me. “I’ll try it.”
“The bacon burger is good, but so are the chicken strips. Are you a chicken strip girl?”
“I don’t know.”
She pauses for a brief second, curiosity drifting across her face. “You could try a bit of everything?”
“How about you order for me? I trust in your taste of food.”
“Okay, I can do that. We’re going on a bit of an adventure, then, are we?”
I crook a smile. “Yeah.”
“Oh! What about mozza sticks? You’ve had to have had those.”
“Once or twice. I don’t really remember if I liked them.”
“We’re ordering them, then,” she exclaims, her finger running down the menu, poking all of the potential options.
I sit back in the booth and run my eyes over the place, trying to piece together why it seems to be so popular.
Is it because it’s the only restaurant here, or is it really that good?
The busy atmosphere somehow manages not to be overwhelming, and that’s new for me.
Everywhere I’ve gone for dinner before has had music too loud to hear a conversation properly or so many waitstaff that you’re constantly interrupted.
Similar to the second-hand shop, there’s a bell above the door that chimes as it’s opened. There’s a slight flurry that carries to our table, ruffling my hair. I turn in my seat and go hot in a flash.
The head of black hair is familiar, but it’s nothing compared to the smirk crooked in the direction of the woman behind the worn, orange bar. I try to steady my breathing when Shade strides straight to her and leans his arms against the bar, tattooed fingers tapping.
She’s older, maybe in her fifties. The silver streaks in her long hair match the makeup she’s spread on her eyelids. I don’t know how I missed it when we first got here, but there’s a name on her yellow apron that tells me she’s the famous Maggie.
Shade’s in another black shirt today, but it’s long-sleeved this time, hiding the art that I had a first-class seat to explore the other night.
His jeans are a dark blue, and he’s in a black pair of boots that eat the hem of them.
I swallow tightly and clamp my legs together when I get a spark between them that’s too familiar to the ones he ignited the last time we were together.
It’s dirty, and I feel like a creep when I remind myself that he’s not even aware that I’m looking at him.
Straightening, I spin forward and gasp when I catch the grin on Lacey’s face.
“He’s hot, right?”
“What?”
“Shade. You think he’s good-looking,” she states bluntly.
I tuck my hair behind my ear and stare at the menu. “What made you think that? I was just looking at him.”
“Yeah, like you wanted to call him over and take a seat on his lap instead of the booth.”
“Lacey,” I scold, keeping my voice down as my cheeks burn. “Don’t say that so loudly.”
She covers her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not the best at being discreet.”
“Is he gone?”
“Not yet. Maggie’s in the back getting his order, I bet.”
I try to sink into the corner of the booth. “Tell me when he is.”
“Maggie has the food. What do you think he ordered?”
“A guy like that? Beef, probably,” I mutter.
“I’ve always thought he’d be the type of guy to really toss a girl around. You know?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my face with my hands. They’re wet, sweaty beyond belief, and I drop them right away. Lacey’s right. I have thought about that these last couple of days. Shade’s been a focus for my brain quite a few times, actually. And not one single thought has been innocent.
“I’m such a creep,” I groan.
Lacey sucks in a breath. “He’s leaving.”
“For sure?”
“Yeah, he’s crossing the street to the studio now.”
When I open my eyes, Lacey’s almost climbing onto the table to get a look out the window. I puff my cheeks out to hide a laugh.
“I’d consider getting a tattoo if he was the one doing it,” she adds.
“Because of how many he has?”
“Well, that, but also because of his talent. Have you seen his studio yet?”
I blink. “What studio?”
“Into The Shade. It’s right across the street. I’m surprised you didn’t see it when you came to my place earlier.”
“I wasn’t really in an exploring mood,” I say slowly, twisting to follow her gaze.
The brick building sticks out like a sore thumb, and the bright sign on the front makes me feel incredibly unaware. How did I not notice it before?
I relax my legs beneath the table. “That’s his studio? A tattoo studio? Here?”
“It’s out of the ordinary, for sure. But yeah, he’s that good. People come from all over the country to see him. He’s actually been looking for someone to work the front desk if you’re interested. I could come in with you to pick up an application today if you wanted.”
“That’s not necessary. I don’t know if I’ll be staying that long. And I’m fine on funds,” I rush out, waving my hand.
My stomach drops. Am I?
Growing still, I run through the numbers in my mind, adding up everything I’ve spent in the last few days.
The sum in my personal account was already low, but I couldn’t exactly use the cards attached to my father’s accounts without him learning where I am.
All of the money I have is his, besides what I have with me here.
Everything I’ve spent after getting here has been what I’ve slowly transferred from their accounts to mine over the last few months.
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision that I made once they announced the official wedding date for me and Chadwick.
Maybe it was fear or a gut feeling that the future ahead of me was all wrong.
I was so afraid that they’d notice and start asking questions I didn’t have answers to that I kept the transfers small.
Now, I wish I hadn’t cared if they’d seen.
Dread drips down my spine. I’m so underprepared for this.
I’ve relied on my parents for too long, allowing them to convince me that working was unnecessary and that I wasn’t going to have time to find a career I’d enjoy.
Shade was right to call me a princess. That’s exactly what I am, and now more than ever, I’m embarrassed by that.
I only have two options now, but only one looks appealing, and it involves the man I thought I’d never see again.