Smitten in Savannah (Savannah Romance Trilogy Book 1)

Chapter 1

The storm darkened the streets and scared off tourists, but for Fiona Newton, it was her favorite kind of day. It was January in Savannah, and Fiona welcomed the downpour. Four years as a Savannah resident and she still couldn’t handle the summer heat. She relished these Georgia winters.

She spun around in her styling chair. It was slow at Norm’s today. Lynn was working on a highlight and Percy was finishing up a blowout. Fiona’s last minute haircut was a couple minutes late.

She got up and looked in the mirror. The rain hadn’t mussed her up too much on her way in from lunch. Her gray sweater was dotted with raindrops and her long, dark hair was starting to frizz. But her characteristic winged eyeliner was pristine, thanks to years of practice and a good waterproof liner. Her robin’s egg blue eyes looked a little less tired today. She’d had the rare opportunity to sleep in that morning.

She glanced at the clock. The booking came in online just an hour before, so Fiona assumed he’d show up eventually. Just then, the door swung open and a tall man ducked in, protected from the rain by a black hoodie.

Fiona got up and turned the chair to face the mirror.

“Porter?” She asked.

He nodded, dark blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Yes. Sorry I’m late.”

Fiona motioned to the chair. “Can I take your sweatshirt?”

“Sure,” he said, handing it to her. She placed it on the hook at her station and turned to him. He looked serious, hurried. Glasses over a furrowed brow, stormy gray eyes that matched the clouds outside.

“I’m Fiona,” she said. “What can I do for you today?”

“Just a trim today, I think,” he said, glancing down at his phone. “It’s getting to the point now where it’s in my eyes. I just don’t want to bother with it.”

“Sure,” Fiona said, grabbing a towel. “We’ll go to the sink first.”

He slipped his phone in his pocket and got up to follow her.

She turned on the water at the sink, checked the temperature and leaned the seat back.

“So, are you from Savannah?” she asked, beginning the bank of questions she had in her mind for new clients. She picked up on the slight southern accent in his voice. She ran a hand through his hair. He had great hair. Thick, a bit wavy. It almost made her sad to cut it. It would look amazing styled. If he used a little pomade-

“No, I moved here a year ago,” he said, bringing her back to the task at hand. “I’m opening the restaurant next door.”

Fiona frowned. “There’s a restaurant next door?”

Norm’s Salon was in an old building off of Broughton Street. The space next door had been vacant for a while, until about a month prior. They’d heard the faint whir of power tools and voices next door, but the windows had been covered in paper so no one knew what was moving in.

“The sign’s coming in tomorrow,” he answered. As she shampooed, rinsed and added conditioner, Fiona felt him unwind, just a little.

“Wow. You must be busy.”

“We have been. David - my cousin - he’s starting it up with me.”

“What’s it called?” She asked. She reached for a towel to dry his hair.

“Hearth. We wanted it to feel like upscale home cooking, so that name stuck.”

“I like it,” Fiona said. “I’ll be sure to try it out when it opens.”

She dried his hair with a towel and led him back to her chair. It would be a crime, she thought again, to cut his hair. But she couldn’t turn away business, so she got out her shears.

“Is there anything specific you want? Do you like to keep it longer on top?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “With getting everything set up, I just don’t want it to be a hassle.”

Fiona nodded. “I’ll keep the shape and just do a trim, then.”

She picked up the clipper, tucked a pair of scissors into her apron, and got started. He seemed distracted now, lost in his thoughts. She usually preferred the talkers, the ones who did all the small talk for her. But the salon felt cozy today with its low jazz - Norm’s favorite - and the rain outside. Today she was enjoying the peace.

Feeling the silence had gone on a beat too long, she asked, “So what made you want to open a restaurant in Savannah?”

Porter glanced up at her, looking a little dazed.

“My mom,” he said. “We’re from Montgomery originally. She decided to retire here, and since I’d been thinking about moving back south, I decided to join her.”

“Back south?” Fiona asked. “Where were you before?”

“New York,” Porter answered, smiling. “Very different experience. Fun, but not for me.”

“Really? That had to be exciting,” Fiona said. She had to block out her own experience of New York as he spoke.

“I actually went for the restaurants,” he said. “I went to school to learn how to run a business and worked the whole time in some of the best restaurants in the country, learning the ropes.”

“So you always knew you wanted to start a restaurant?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Hearth may or may not be my end goal, but food has always been my passion.”

She looked at him in the mirror, making sure all sides were even.

“Are you from Savannah originally?” he asked. She never liked when the conversation turned to her.

“No, I moved here four years ago after beauty school. I moved in with a friend.”

Moved inwasn’t exactly accurate. More like “crashed on any couch she could find until she could afford her own place.” Even now, she could just barely pay rent on her apartment.

She finished up the trim and decided to use a little product in his hair. As she assumed, his hair held a style beautifully.

“Looks great,” he said, handing her his money, adding in a generous tip. “Thank you for getting me in at the last minute. I have to get back to accept a delivery.”

“Of course,” she said. “Good luck with everything.”

With a nod and a wave, he was gone.