When I finally close up the salon, the streets of Candy Cane Key are quiet. There’s no strangers lingering on street corners. No vehicles with tinted windows parked on my street. I stand by my car for a moment, letting the peaceful night air swirl around me, wishing I could bottle the feeling. It’s been such a rarity lately.
From what Liz and Margaret had shared, neither the Virginia witness protection program nor the local police had caught wind of anything sinister happening regarding my case when they reached out to them. Margaret reassured me that despite the fact the police department at Candy Cane Key wasn’t highly advanced in technology,or brainsas she put it, they were taking the matter seriously.
I’d worried that leaving the state could put my protection at risk. But so long as I have no interaction with anyone from my old life, I remain in good standing with the state protection organization. They did encourage increased communication if I leave the state again. Probably wouldn’t hurt to stay in better touch with the agency.
Liz may have intimated over the years that Margaret had her own security team on retainer as well. And as much as I’d like to argue with her about spending any money where I was concerned, I’m selfishly grateful for her support. I honestly don’t know what I would do without these two women. They have been my lifeline for so long. They may come from a different side of the tracks from Betty, but Liz and Margaret were my OG fairy godmothers. And this girl isn’t dumbenough to turn away any of those. What is the saying? It takes a village? Well, the more the merrier.
Once home, I kick off my shoes and pour a glass of wine. Sitting by the window, I watch the sunset spill gold over the rooftops. The color reminding me of that glorious night months ago. When the night sky over the Sycamore Mountains bathed the valley below with a similar glow before the stars came out to play.
I take a slow sip and think of him. That gorgeous firefighter with the steady hands and that boyish smile. I can still feel the warmth of his palm against the small of my back, and the low rumble of his infectious laughter when I danced like a maniac in front of everyone. We’d talked for hours about everything and nothing. And then our late evening conversations turned into a magical night I’ve played on repeat more times than I can count.
It wasn’t simply the sex. Don’t get me wrong, that was the most electrifying, passionate night of my life. The stuff romance novels are written about. But there was just something about him. A genuine mix of playfulness and wild abandon. A connection I’ve never had with any man.
Reaching up to touch my face as he had under the stars that night, I close my eyes and try to remember the little nuances. The way he’d brushed a stray curl from my cheek, his fingers lingering just a second too long. The way he didn’t even try to hide that his breath caught like mine when our eyes connected.
And his kisses.Gah.Those dreamy kisses. The air between us crackled when he took my lips with his. I could smell the heady scent of his cologne surrounding me as we were tangled in one another. His caresses were both strong and tender. The kind that saysyou’re safe here.For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel small, scared, or broken. Just seen and appreciated for who I was. Like being with me was genuinely enough.
The following morning had come too soon. I had a long drive home and needed to go, whether I wanted to or not. And trust me, there was no part of me that wanted to leave. We didn’t make promises. Hell, we didn’t know the other’s last name. There reallywasn’t the need for goodbye. Why make it any more difficult than it already was? At least that’s how I justified slinking off.
Still, I often catch myself reaching for my phone, half expecting him to have asked Ellie for my number.Okay, so half hoping is more like it.Looking for a message that isn’t there.
The tea’s gone lukewarm by the time I stand to turn out the light. As I crawl into bed, the quiet wraps around me like a soft quilt, and I let myself fantasize about thewhat if’s. At least until the bad dreams return.
Because the reality is simple. I can’t let anyone into my nightmare that isn’t already involved. And as much as I’d like to trust Dave, I’ve learned one thing loud and clear. No one can hurt you more than those you let get too close. And he’s one temptation I’d have a very hard time walking away from a second time.
“Char,I know it’s been a busy day, but do you mind trimming my hair before we call it a day? We’ve been so bombarded lately I haven’t had a chance to schedule anything, and I’m starting to look like a stray dog.” Norma Jean gives me a comical pout.
“Oh, you know I always have time for you.”
“Thanks! I’ll pay you double your usual.”
I giggle. “I was never great at math, but I’m pretty sure two times zero is still zero.”
“See. You’re wrong.”
My face contorts in confusion.
“Youaregood at math.”
After a quick shampoo, I apply Norma Jean’s favorite eucalyptus-scented conditioner and follow her to my station for a quick trim and blow dry. This girl really has a beautiful thick head of hair. “You make me want to go blonde again.” I laugh.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine in the mirror. “I like this look. It’s short and sassy.”
My current coif falls around my collarbone and is what a hairstylist might describe as a shaggy bob. My hair is naturally thick, so it doesn’t take much to style it and go. The dark brown color with violet ombre shading at the ends has been a fun change from my prior red locks. Just not sure about keeping this look going for long when my roots come in blonde. But that’s the fun of constantly reimagining myself.
“There.” I announce as I remove Norma Jean’s black smock with a flourish.
“Beautiful as always, Char. Now I need to go somewhere to show it off.” She giggles.
“Okay. Have fun, wild child.”
The phone buzzes on the counter just as I’m sweeping up the last of the blonde clippings from Norma’s trim. I don’t even check the screen before answering.
“Hello.”
“Char! It’s me!”
I blink. “Ellie?”
