Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Aspen parked in front of her sister's salon, killed the engine, and then just sat there, both hands on the wheel, the leather warm under her sweaty palms.
Because she had Maddy Sterling’s phone number. Sitting right there in her pocket. Along with the unanswered text that she had watched Maddy read in real time and intentionally ignore.
Why did she have to add the damn wink emoji? She couldn’t help herself, that’s why. God, what was she, fifteen?
She had hoped that once they were no longer under the watchful eye of Bunny—who clearly had thought she was being so subtle and clever—that Maddy might respond. Even just a thumbs-up of acknowledgment. But no. Her phone remained silent.
Maybe she should send a follow-up text. Erase the wink emoji from being the last thing she sent.
Her fingers inched toward the seam of her leggings for her phone. Then stopped.
No. No follow-up text. She wasn’t some needy, insecure person who needed validation because of a fucking emoji.
The text was fine. The emoji was fine. And why the hell could Aspen not use the word fine anymore without Maddy’s face popping up behind her eyes?
She let out a groan. Damnit. She shook the image of Maddy from her head and took a deep breath.
She was going to walk into that salon like it was any other day and be totally and completely normal. In fact, she wouldn’t even mention Maddy.
* * *
The bell over the door of Paws & Reflect jangled as Aspen pushed through, the mixed smell of oatmeal shampoo, wet dog, and baked treats hitting her immediately.
Chloe had bought the building three years ago and transformed the former laundromat into a high-end grooming salon.
The front of the shop was painted in soft buttercream and sage, with a low half-wall separating the retail nook from the grooming bays in the back.
There was a curated selection of treats Chloe baked herself in a dehydrator displayed by the front desk, and a chalkboard above the till announced the daily special in hand-drawn block letters: $5 OFF BLUEBERRY FACIAL.
Nobody in Coronado cared about saving five dollars, and Chloe knew it. But it planted the seed of tacking on an additional forty-dollar treatment that their dog absolutely did not need, and it worked every time.
Aspen’s eyes scanned the retail section for any new additions—a habit she had developed so she could report back to Bunny.
Chloe had a standing contract with San Diego-based dog-lifestyle brand BOOP to be the exclusive seller in the region of their designer collars, leashes, accessories, and fresh human-grade dog food.
A photo wall above the register held a hundred Polaroids of Chloe’s clients, each pup’s name in her tidy handwriting underneath, the corner reserved for the regulars. There was, of course, a dedicated section just for CoCo and Chanel, who received a touch-up every other week.
Chloe was head-down trimming the underbelly of an apricot poodle in the back. Aspen poked her head into Chloe’s ‘office’ that was really more of a lounge for her niece, Maisie, to hang out in after school while Chloe finished work.
Maisie was cross-legged in the center of the leather loveseat, iPad in her lap, headphones on, shoes off. A peanut butter sandwich on a paper plate beside her, corner gnawed off.
Aspen leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed.
Without turning her head, Maisie pulled her headphones down and let them hang loosely around her neck. “Did you know a Great White can detect a single drop of blood in ten billion drops of water?”
Aspen smiled. She loved the random marine life facts Maisie shared with her every day. She didn’t retain most of them, but this particular fact was one she had heard a couple of times now. “I did know. And it never gets any less horrifying.”
“Well, did you also know that a mantis shrimp punches faster than a twenty-two-caliber bullet with 1,500 Newtons of force?” Maisie enunciated the words twenty-two caliber as if she knew exactly what they meant and was not just repeating what she had heard on National Geographic.
Aspen raised her brows and pretended to be amazed. “Wooow.”
“Who do you think would win in a fight? The great white or the mantis shrimp?” Maisie’s tone implied there was definitely a right answer.
Aspen had no fucking clue what a mantis shrimp was.
Or a Newton, for that matter. But one had great in the name, which meant large and powerful, and the other, as far as she knew, was a literal shrimp.
She couldn’t imagine Jaws would have had the same effect if it had been about a four-inch shellfish terrorizing the swimmers of Amity Island, no matter how powerful its punch was. “...The shark?”
“Hm. Interesting.” Maisie tapped her chin thoughtfully. Then raised a single index finger in the air. “Speaking of sharks! Do you know what today is?!” Maisie didn’t wait for a response. “Exactly two months until Shark Week!”
Aspen shook her head with a smile. Maisie had been counting down to Shark Week every year for the past three years the way other kids counted down to Christmas. Which was, partially, her fault.
Maisie had been obsessed with being in water since she was an infant.
She loved bathtime and was swimming at the community pool before she could walk.
Swim was actually her first word. Chloe had been trying to get her to say “mama” for months.
Aspen had been trying to get her to say “Auntie.” They had even placed a hundred-dollar wager on whose name she would say first. Then one day, as they drove past the community pool, Maisie pointed out the window from her car seat in the back, making ooh ooh grunting sounds, and when they didn’t stop, she had a full-blown tantrum.
They were trying to figure out what she wanted when she finally said, “Swim!” Aspen and Chloe exchanged a wide-eyed look and burst into laughter at their mutual loss.
When she was four, Aspen took Maisie to the aquarium for the first time.
She will never forget the complete look of wonder and awe on Maisie’s face as she pressed her nose and hands against the glass and followed every underwater creature she saw, wide-eyed, mouth hanging open.
She let out gasps every ten to twenty seconds as she excitedly whipped her head towards Aspen like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
So for her fifth birthday, Aspen had convinced Chloe to let her take Maisie to Yucatán, Mexico, to go snorkeling in the ocean for the first time.
She had regretted her choice when they were floating in open water with masks on, and a forty-foot whale shark appeared below them.
Maisie had thought it was the coolest thing she had ever seen.
Aspen had thought they were about to be swallowed whole.
Later, once she felt certain it wasn’t planning to eat them, she had also thought it was pretty damn cool.
They spent four days snorkeling above the reefs—spotting sea turtles, sting rays, manta rays, starfish, octopuses (or was it octopi?
Aspen could never remember), and every color of tropical fish you could imagine.
Three years later, Maisie was still obsessed with everything related to the ocean and marine life.
Aspen took Maisie to the Birch Aquarium on the second Saturday of every month so Maisie could attend their youth Discovery Lab, watch the feedings, and visit the animals and fish—many of which Maisie had given names to.
“Can’t wait.” Even though Shark Week made her never want to get in the ocean again, she loved how passionate Maisie was about it and couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at having played a role in the discovery of her niece’s greatest passion.
Aspen kissed the top of her head, inhaling her strawberry shampoo and the peanut butter smeared on her cheeks. “I’m gonna go say hi to your mom.”
“Kay, bye.” Maisie’s headphones were already going back on, eyes locked on the iPad screen that was currently showing a rainbow-colored critter crawling along the ocean floor that she could only assume was the aforementioned shrimp with the lethal punch.
She walked out of the office and approached the grooming station, where Chloe was now working conditioner through the poodle’s coat, her sister’s wavy hair, which was a bit lighter and more curly than Aspen’s, pulled into a messy bun.
“I heard Maddy Sterling is back,” Chloe said without looking up.
Damnit.
“Dad called me an hour ago.” Chloe added.
Of course he did. Her dad had figured out her reason for joining debate within an hour of her first regional tournament freshman year.
A tournament he’d insisted on attending despite her insistence that it wasn’t a big deal.
He knew damn well Aspen had never shown interest in public policy or environmental science, and she knew he’d see straight through her.
But he’d come, and he’d sat in the audience and watched his daughter watching Maddy Sterling for nine hours straight.
If it surprised him that it was a girl who had captured her undivided attention, he never said so.