Chapter Fourteen
The last thing Paxton needed was for the film crew to be here today. At least for now, they were off in the master bedroom filming Sandra and Ryan taping and bedding the sheetrock, getting it ready for adding texture. Sandra had become really good at it. So much so, that Ryan even told her if she ever wanted to give up working in a beauty salon, she could have a job on the construction crew. That had Paxton smiling. The lady was truly a cut above the rest. He’d thought so when they were kids, and he still thought so.
“You forget how to measure?” Quinn stepped up beside him.
“Of course not.”
Dark brows folded into a frown. “So there’s a good reason you cut the sheetrock too short?”
“What?” He drilled the last screw into the sheetrock he was hanging and turned to his brother.
Quinn pointed to the sheet he’d laid against the wall where Paxton worked. The one he was supposed to screw in next. Also, the one that clearly wasn’t long enough to reach the end of the wall. How the heck had this happened? The fifteen foot wall was a foot shorter than the two pieces of sheet rock. He knew that, yet somehow he’d gotten eighteen inches stuck in his head and he’d cut the boards too short.
“Guess I was a bit distracted.”
“Distracted?” The frown between Quinn’s brows deepened. “What gives?”
No way he was going to tell his brother that he’d had dinner and dancing with Sandra on his mind. They’d had such a good time, talking, laughing, and dancing. The dancing, of course, was his favorite. A legitimate excuse to hold her close, and once other patrons joined them on the floor, it was easy to simply blend in. If he closed his eyes, he could almost still feel Sandra swaying in his arms. And that was probably how he mucked up the measuring.
The lights from the filming crew dimmed in the distance. One by one they came out of the back of the house, smiling, chatting, and waving at Paxton as they walked by and tossing departing words of encouragement at Sandra. It made no sense, but it bothered him that everyone seemed to like her so much.
“You contemplating the immortality of the crab?” Quinn crossed his arms.
“Why’s this not done?” Ryan walked into the room that he’d expected to find all the sheetrock up. “Guess I’d better help or we’ll fall behind.”
Shaking his head, Quinn dropped his arms by his side and turned to Ryan. “Just for the hell of it, show him how to use a tape measure.”
Ryan looked from one brother to the other, his mouth hanging slightly open, utter confusion covered his face.
“Don’t ask.” Paxton sighed, and smiled at Sandra approaching.
“Hey.” She stopped in front of him.
He resisted the urge to reach out and hug her or take her hand or just run a finger down that soft cheek. But the workplace was not the place for public displays of affection. “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”
“Something like that.” Her shoulders hitched with excitement. “My license came through and Polly says I can have afternoon appointments since Margie, her regular manicurist, only works mornings.”
While he considered what this meant for their workday, she flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck. He’d barely wrapped his arms around her waist in a return hug when she tensed and took a step in retreat. Her cheeks flushing a soft pink, and her head dipped, she glanced over at Ryan busying himself with the sheetrock on the opposite wall. “Sorry about that.”
He shook his head. “Nonsense, this is good news for you.” No point in mentioning that he wished he could have held her longer.
“The downside is that I won’t be able to work on the house every day. Do you think that will be a problem?”
He leaned back against the doorjamb. “That should be fine. You already work here more than you need to. You’ve banked enough hours of sweat equity that you could never show up again and you’d still get the house.”
Her eyes lit up. “You guys look at it that way?”
“Not us, the charity.”
“That’s nice, but I still feel like a slacker if I don’t show up at all.”
“Don’t even think about it. All is fine. Though we’ll miss you.”
“We?” she teased.
“I’m sure everyone here has enjoyed working with you, but I’ll definitely miss having you around.”
“You will?”
He bobbed his head and his heart did a two-step when her smile blossomed. “Is it awful of me to say I’m glad?”
“Not even a little.” He shook his head.
“I’m going to miss being here too.”
That had his cheeks tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“You two going to get back to work or keep up the grinning competition?” Quinn muttered on his way through the room toward the door without slowing or saying anything further.
Stepping further apart, he briefly considered pulling her into his arms and dipping her for a dramatic kiss just to tick off his grumpy brother, but decided that would be opening a can of worms that could seriously backfire. For now, he was going to have to keep his hands—and lips—to himself.
Sandra could still feel the warmth of that too-brief hug from a few minutes ago. She hadn’t meant to hug him in front of everyone, but she was just so darn excited. “This means I’ll be able to save even more money for furniture and what not when the house is finally ready.”
“Working full time will help, I’m sure.”
“Absolutely. And if it’s slow, I can still do shampoos. Tips aren’t as good for shampooing as for doing manicures and pedicures, but money is money.”
“My mother always said, a little of something is better than all of nothing.”
Her mother often said something very similar. Hopefully, it would all be enough.
“Hey, where did that bubbly enthusiasm just go?” He took a step closer and seemed to think better of it and rocked back on his boot heels.
“Margie has her regulars, so I’ll have to build my own following. That may take a little time. I know there’s only one salon in Tuckers Bluff but having Margie work mornings only seemed to be good enough till now.”
“I’m sure it will work out. All you need is for word of mouth to spread and all will be well. You’ll see. When do you start?”
She glanced at her watch. “In an hour.”
“Oh.” His eyes widened slightly and then his smile reappeared. “Break a leg.”
Biting back a giggle, she smiled at him. “I don’t know if that works in the beauty business the same as in show business, but thanks.”
With a quick peck on the cheek and a wave to Ryan and the others, she was out the door on her way home for a quick lunch. Shoveling down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, between bites she told her mother what little she knew.
“Don’t you worry. There’s plenty more people in Tuckers Bluff who want to get their nails done. They’ll learn Polly has more help and come. Like that movie. If you build it, they will come.”
That had her chuckling with her last swallow. “Paxton said something similar. But I want to get there early today.” She jumped to her feet and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’m leaving. See you for dinner.”
“Unless Paxton invites you out again,” her mom called over her shoulder.
Rolling her eyes at no one in particular, she ran out the door and practically skipped to the salon. To her surprise, Polly had found the room to add a second nail station. Sandra had assumed that she’d be using Margie’s station, but somehow, knowing she had her own spot made today even more exciting. Putting away her purse in the bottom drawer, even though she had no standing appointments, she proceeded to set the table up in preparation for her first customer.
Sorting through nail files and clippers, and taking note of a few items she’d like to have than what Polly had provided, she made a mental note to order some specialty polishes that lasted longer than the average manicure. She’d brought a few from home, but needed a wider selection. Completely set up and organized, she wondered what to do next when the bell over the door sounded.
Meg Farraday hurried through the door. “Sorry I’m a little late. Had a guest arrive early for check in as I was walking out the door. Is it too late?”
Holding a woman’s long hair between her fingers, and a pair of scissors primed to snip off a long lock, Polly smiled. “Right on time.”
Sandra looked at the woman who had married Adam Farraday right around the same time she had married Ed. The difference, of course, was that Meg had married a good man and had a lovely and very happy family. Expecting Meg to wait for Polly or another of the stylists, Sandra was surprised to see her plop in the seat in front of her.
“My nails are such a mess. It’s so hard to chase after a little one, care for guests, and keep my nails polished. I swear, a few days out and my nails look like hell and break like there’s no tomorrow.”
Sandra pointed to her specialty polishes. “I don’t have many color choices yet, but I’ll be getting more soon.” For the next few minutes, she explained the benefits of this polish over ordinary and was halfway through the manicure when Connor Farraday’s wife Catherine came through the door.
The woman waved at Polly, stopped to chat with Ida Brady in Polly’s chair a moment before, all smiles, grabbed the chair at Margie’s station and pulled it over to her sister-in-law. “Isn’t this fun having someone available in the afternoons for a manicure?”
Meg leaned forward and looked at her hands. “It’s heaven.”
Sandra smelled a rat. Or at least a little mouse.
The two sisters-in-law talked colors, and schedules, and children before circling around to the women’s Friday night Girls’ Night.
“We do hope you can make it some time.” Admiring her nails, Meg switched places with Catherine.
The two women were still chatting when Grace was the next person through the front door. There was no doubt in Sandra’s mind that this wasn’t a coincidence. Not once in the weeks she’d been working here had any of these women come in for a haircut so having all three here for manicures definitely smelled of a rat. A sweet and thoughtful rat.
Unlike the other two women, Grace’s polish was still intact, her hands looked smooth and fresh, and Sandra would bet her old friend had recently had a manicure.
Cordless phone in hand, Polly stopped by Sandra’s station. “I have someone on the phone who wants an appointment later today. Are you open or do you expect another client?”
Wouldn’t she like to know? She almost felt like calling Paxton to ask him if he had any more family he was sending her way. “I think I’m free. Who wants an appointment?”
“Eileen Farraday.”
Yep. She was definitely going to need to have a little chat with Paxton Farraday.