I stride across the street, blowing out a breath and opening the salon door.
“EJ!” Laura says in an overly bright voice.
“Hi, Laura,” I answer her, but my eyes are trained on Angie.
She’s smiling shyly in my direction.
Rob, Laura’s husband, walks in behind me. “Hey, Laura.”
“Rob?” She smiles through the confused tone in her voice.
“I thought I’d surprise you and take you out for dinner.”
He pulls his hand out from behind his back and produces a bouquet of flowers. Red roses mingled with a bunch of smaller flowers I don’t know the names for.
Yep. Should’ve brought flowers.
Strike one.
“I’ll just … grab my purse,” Angie says, looking around her station at anything but me. At least that’s how it feels.
“We should go out!” Rob suggests. “The four of us. You wouldn’t mind sharing me. Would you, Laura?”
Angie stutters out an, “Ummm …”
Laura says, “Not tonight,” glancing over at Angie. “I want you all to myself.”
“Okay then,” Rob says. He looks at me. “Rain check. We’ll pick a time and make it happen.”
“Sounds good,” I say, looking at Angie again to gauge her reaction.
She nods and smiles.
Angie joins me, stepping close as usual—the same way she does every worknight. I place my hand on her back, because that’s what I do. Touching her floods me with relief and emotion, a wave starting at my palm and spreading through me.
We walk toward her van in silence. Rob and Laura exit the salon just behind us, locking up and heading to Rob’s car.
Rob shouts over, “Have a good night!”
“You too,” I shout back.
When we’re right next to Angie’s van, she turns toward me, looking up into my eyes, a definite sadness in her expression.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“Yes.” She looks down and then back up at me. “I don’t think I should be dating someone.”
“Someone? Or me?” I ask on impulse.
“You’re the only one I would date … have dated.” She sighs. “It’s just … I don’t know what I was thinking.”
My hand reaches up out of instinct and habit, running through her hair and cupping her head gently. “What happened, Angie? We were having fun. I really like you.”
“I can’t afford fun, EJ.” Her brows draw in. She looks up at me with a pleading expression.
Pleading for me to understand? I don’t.
Or maybe she’s asking me to make it different. I will if I can.
