Chapter 1
Marry the man who will drop what he’s doing to run to the store for ingredients you should have made sure were in the pantry before you started putting the recipe together.
Patrice Donovan
LARA
When the bell chimed over the door, I looked up with a smile, ready to greet another customer. I was stopped short by the sight of a girl entering. She looked young enough to make me wonder why she wasn’t in school. I couldn’t imagine why she was shopping alone if she was skipping class.
Then again, I’d rarely done anything alone at her age.
Being a triplet meant I always had someone to hang out with .
. . and usually someone to skip school with when the urge hit.
Of course, a trip to the mall with the girls was tame compared to some of the things I’d gotten into.
Looking back, I understood why my brother and sister were going nuts now that their own daughters were teenagers.
“Can I help you?” I asked as she approached the counter with a smile.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, sliding a sheet of paper toward me. “I’d like to give you my resume in case you have a position open that I might be able to fill.”
“You’re looking for a job?” I asked, unable to hide my shock.
“Yes, ma’am. I don’t have any retail experience yet, but I’m a quick learner. I’ll be a loyal and professional employee if you give me a chance.”
“Do you have any work experience?” I asked.
“I worked at a doggie day spa back home,” she explained. “But there’s not one within walking distance of my house here, so that experience really isn’t helping me much right now.”
I leaned against the counter as I studied her. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen,” she said proudly.
“Why aren’t you in school?”
“I take online classes, so my hours are flexible. If you need someone to work during the day, I’d be perfect!”
“Do you have your parents’ permission to do that?” I asked.
“My dad appreciates a go-getter attitude. I’m sure he’ll be happy that I took the initiative, but he’ll be even prouder when I start making money of my own.”
“Just a sec.” I turned and opened the cabinet beneath the register, pulling out a job application and putting it on a clipboard.
I set it on the glass counter in front of the eager young woman.
“Fill this out while I go next door to talk to the owner of the salon. I’ll be back in a few minutes to look it over. ”
“Thank you!” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Raylee Duvall. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Thank you for the opportunity to . . .”
“I haven’t hired you yet!” I interrupted as I shook her hand. “I’m Lara Donovan.”
“I know. I’ve been to six different places in the last few days, and none of them were as pleasant or professional as you’ve been.”
“Really?”
Raylee nodded, then winced. “Two people laughed at me. And one man asked for my number so he could call and make arrangements to meet up after the store closed to discuss . . .” She stopped talking and looked down at her shoes.
I narrowed my eyes. “Where did that happen?”
“At the pet store down the street.”
I knew exactly who she meant, but just to be sure, I asked, “Did he give you his name?”
“He gave me his card when I wouldn’t give him my number,” Raylee said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled it out and handed it over.
“Did you call him?”
“No!” Raylee shuddered. “He creeped me out. My dad says you should never ignore your gut instincts.”
“Your dad is right. Do you mind if I keep this?” I asked, holding the card up between us.
“Not at all. I forgot it was even there until you asked his name.”
“Okay,” I said, stepping around the counter. “You can sit back there on the couch or stay here at the counter to fill that out. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Raylee standing at the counter with her head bent over the paperwork.
I turned and walked through the wide doorway into my sister’s salon next door.
As usual, every chair was full, with a few customers waiting in the seats by the windows.
Luckily, my mom sat in front of Jolie, so I didn’t hesitate to interrupt.
“Hi, Mom.” I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Can I jump in for a second?”
“Of course, La,” Mom said, using the nickname I shared with my sisters, Lana and Lake. “Take her. She’s been lecturing me since I sat down, and my ears need a break.”
I smiled at our reflections in the mirror as Jolie rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to her. What’s up, Lara?”
“I might have found our shop helper,” I said, leaning against her station. “I’m not sure yet, though. I need to do some investigating to make sure she’s on the up and up, but if everything checks out, I’m going to hire her.”
“Investigating what?” Jolie asked warily.
“She’s fifteen, homeschooled, and looking for work during the day,” I explained. “She’s the same age as your girls.”
“And she’s looking for a job?”
“Seems like it. She has a great attitude, and her manners are on point.”
“I like her already,” Mom said with a grin.
“She mentioned applying at a few other places nearby. One was the pet store.” I watched Mom and Jolie’s eyes narrow in unison.
Their resemblance was almost eerie when they were irritated, and I knew I looked exactly the same.
“He tried to get her number so they could meet after-hours to ‘chat’ about the position.”
“That’s it. I’m not talking to the police again, just so they can tell me he hasn’t committed a crime yet . . .”
“That they know of!” Jolie cut in.
“I’m just gonna tell the boys,” Mom said firmly. “I’ll let them explain the ways of the world to him.”
“Oh, that’s playing dirty.” Cesar, my sister’s dear friend and fellow stylist, chimed in from his station across from Jolie’s. “I’ll chip in for their bail if someone records it for me. That guy is a snake. Someone needs to bash his head in with a shovel . . . hypothetically, of course.”
“Of course,” Mom agreed with a dark grin.
I looked back at Jolie. “Would you like to meet her before I dig into her resume?”
“I would!” Jolie said, resting her hands on Mom’s shoulders. “Mom, do you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll catch up with Cesar while you’re gone.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “When you’re finished here, come over to the boutique. I set aside a blouse that I think will look great on you.”
“You’re so good to me, Lara.”
"That's why I’m your favorite!” I teased.
We had just rounded the corner into my boutique when Jolie gasped. “Raylee! What are you doing here, sweetheart?”
“Hi, Jolie!” Raylee set the pen on the counter and hopped up to hug my sister. “I’m here to apply for a job. I was going to come say hello as soon as I finished this.”
“You’re the applicant?” Jolie beamed, then turned to me. “Lara, Raylee and her dad just moved in near us. Raylee, this is one of my sisters.”
Raylee grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “I’ve heard so much about all of you. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“How do you know each other?” I asked.
“Dante’s new shop manager is Raylee’s dad. They’re living in the rental behind the garage,” Jolie explained.
I knew the place well. It was Dante’s childhood home, which he’d kept as a rental property after his father moved into a full-time care facility. Since that was the same garage my dad had always used, I’d been there dozens of times over the years.
“I might have just spoken to him on the phone.” When Raylee looked confused, I held up my car keys. “I have an appointment to get my oil changed this afternoon.”
“Well, while you’re there, you can ask him any questions you might have,” Jolie suggested.
“I’ll do that,” I assured her, smiling at Raylee. “Are you finished with the application?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Raylee said, handing me the clipboard.
I glanced down, admiring her neat handwriting, then looked up and smiled. “First, I wanted you to meet my sister, since my boutique and her salon share the position. So I guess now it’s time to explain the job description and all that good stuff.”
“Do you mind if she comes over and meets Mom before you get into all that?” Jolie asked.
“Not at all. I have some work to finish before I take my car over. Raylee, would you like to ride with me when I go?”
“You don’t mind if I hang around until then?” Raylee asked excitedly.
“I don’t mind at all.”
◆◆◆
SHILOH
As I walked toward the vehicle in the last bay, I read the work order . . . or at least I tried to. Apparently, the customer had hijacked the pen and clipboard Ricky was using to take down her information, because I didn’t recognize the handwriting or any of the words used to describe the problem.
I stopped a few feet from the small SUV and tried again, but I erupted with laughter when I got to the part that read, “It makes a clink-tap-clink-tap-clink-tap when I turn, but only one clink-tap when I change lanes.”
“What the fuck?” I sputtered, dropping the hand holding the large plastic sheet cover to my side.
“You haven’t even gotten to the good part! Keep reading! There’s more on the back!” Ricky called out from somewhere behind me. He was cackling when he stepped up beside me and watched me flip the page over.
“It makes the one clink-tap only occasionally, so it must have something to do with the speed I’m going. The noise seems to be linked to the stereo since it stops when I turn up the volume,” I read aloud.
I looked over at Ricky. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”
Ricky shook his head, still laughing. “I swear I’m not. I handed her the clipboard and had her write down the description because I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it with a straight face or give it the same emphasis she could.”
I held up the folder. “Come on, man. Where’s the real ticket?”
“That’s it.”
“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question. Ricky wouldn’t be laughing so fucking hard if he’d made it up. No, he was cracking up because he knew what a pain in the ass this order was going to be, and he was going to enjoy watching me try to figure it out.
“Deadass. I swear.”