Yeah, I’m trying not to think about that right now.
“Your next client is here,” Sienna says, unable to come up with anything that might help.
I nod as I finish cleaning up in here.
“She’s filling out the disclaimer now, so you’ll be good to go.”
“Thanks, Si. I owe you.”
“Never. I’m popping to the store; do you need anything?”
A heavy sigh passes my lips. I need a lot of things right now. But I’m not sure any of them can be purchased from a store.
One face flickers through my mind, and my hand curls into a fist at my side.
I haven’t seen him since our date, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little anxious. I regretted those words about asking me to marry him the second they fell from my lips. He’s still in contact, still checking in at least once a day, and sending more food that I can consume, but I can’t help feeling like I scared him off.
The sensible side of me keeps assuring me that he’s just busy. But while all these pregnancy hormones are running rampant through my body, I struggle to focus on the sensible and tend to dive headfirst into the emotional side, which is currently telling me that Everett is no longer interested.
It should be a relief. It’s what I wanted: him to be available for our child. I never wanted him to have any interest in me…right?
He told me explicitly that night—not that he needed to— that he doesn’t do relationships. Hell, he doesn’t even do more than one night. I knew what I was getting into. And yet…all these weeks down the line, discussions about fake dating and me blurting out that I just need a ring and my head is all over the place.
“N-no, I’m fine, thank you,” I finally force out while Sienna gets a front-row seat to me spiraling.
She gives me a sad smile before disappearing from the room. I know she’s allowing me to have a moment to pull myself back together before my next client. But…I’m not sure I really want to be alone.
I force myself to stop and take a couple of deep breaths before focusing on what I need to be doing right now, and then walking out of the treatment room with my head held high.
If I scared Everett off with my requirements over this arrangement, then clearly, he isn’t man enough for the job.
“Good afternoon,” I say as I approach my client.
My brows pinch as I study her. She looks familiar, but being completely useless with faces, I have no idea where from.
She smiles up at me, but there’s some hesitancy in it.
“Thank you,” I say when she hands me the iPad Sienna left her with to fill out her information and sign the disclaimer.
I quickly scan through her medical section before abandoning the tablet on the reception desk and leading her through to the nail bar and selecting my favorite station right at the back.
“Please, come and take a seat.” She does, and a few seconds later, I get started removing her current gel polish.
The usual questions roll off my tongue. I’ve been working with clients for so long now, I do it without thinking.
The client tells me about her recent vacation, and I soak it all up, trying to put myself on a beach with the sun beating down on my skin. It’s hard to remember the last time I experienced that. Since starting this place, vacations have mostly gone out the window for me. I tell myself that it’ll all be worth it in years to come; when I have a whole host of salons that are working for me, I can have all the vacations I’d like.
“This place is really cute,” my client tells me when her vacation tales come to an end. “You’re the owner, right?”
My brows pinch. “Uh, yeah. Thank you, I’m really proud of the place.”
“You should be. I can’t believe I haven’t found you sooner. Didn’t think I was going to manage to snag an appointment—you’re fully booked.”
“Business is doing really great right now,” I say, pride surging through me for everything I’ve achieved here and the obstacles I’ve overcome recently.
“So, what color are we going for?” I ask, glancing at the chart beside us that she’s been studying for the last ten minutes.
“That one,” she says, pointing at a green that reminds me of someone’s hockey jersey.
