Cynthia’s passive expression tightened. “Excuse you, Mr. Ford. Speaking to my daughter like that in my salon is not acceptable.”
“Frankly, I don’t care what you deem to be acceptable. Not when my girl is hurting because she”—I pointed a finger at Amber—“decided to play a cruel joke and get Autumn’s hopes up that her father wanted to see her.”
Amber wavered between looking like she wanted to melt into the floor and trying to shoot fire out of her eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cynthia said as she applied the last foil.
“Sure you don’t,” I clipped. “You have no idea how fucking giddy and elated Autumn was when she got a text from her dad saying that he wanted to see her after she had beenbeggingfor his time for months. But Amber does. You have no idea how crushed Autumn was when he had no idea why she showed up at his office, and couldn’t even bear to sit the fuck down and talk to her before going off to a meeting. But Amber does. Because she sent texts from their father’s phone because she knew their dad didn’t want to see Autumn. You might not know what your daughter did to humiliate her sister, but I do. Autumn shouldn’t have to beg for her father to talk to her, much less love her. But that’s between him and me.”
The salon fell deadly silent. Only the ambient noise of running water and the buzz of dryers filled the space. Even the music faded away.
Cynthia was seething, but kept her mouth shut.
Amber looked like she was about to murder me, but it was hard to take her seriously with all the foil in her hair. She looked like a satellite dish.
Cynthia set a timer and sighed. “We could have had this conversation in private if you had the decency to call.”
“You don’t deserve basic decency when you have made your own daughter feel like she doesn’t have a family who loves her. Autumn deserves basic fucking decency. I’m here to make sure she gets it.”
“What do you want me to do, Ryan?” she asked as if I were just an annoyed customer.
“I want you to take a hard look at the way you’re treating Autumn before you lose her.”
“It’s a complicated situation, and I don’t think you should be making demands of my relationship with her when yours started because of—what—a dare?”
“How my relationship started with her is not how it will end. How will yours end, Cynthia? Because, mark my words, you will lose her. And it will be soon.”
She reared back. “Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all. I’m giving you the reality check you shouldn’t have to have.”
Cynthia huffed. “My relationship with my daughter is my business.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Because you don’t have one. I do. Which means that anyone who hurts her, becomes my problem. This is your warning, Cynthia. Fix your relationship with Autumn, or I will end it.” I looked at Amber. “And as far as you go, I really don’t care what you do with your life. Never speak to her again. And if you even think about hurting her the way you did by texting Autumn from her dad’s phone, I will make it my life’s mission to make yours absolutely miserable. And if you think I’m bluffing, I’m very good at understanding people, which means I’m very good at understanding what hurts them the most.”
I had turned my back to walk out of the salon when Amber angrily blurted out, “He’s not her dad!”
That was the only thing that could have stopped me from leaving.
When I turned back around, Cynthia’s face had gone white as a ghost. Every jaw in the salon was on the floor.
“He’smine,” Amber sniped as she crossed her arms like she had just won. She hadn’t.
“Amber,” Cynthia hissed with barely restrained fury. It was the first and only time she had truly lost her cool with the oldest Hart sister.
I waited, because I wanted the explanation. And then I had to figure out how to tell Willow.
“Let’s go to the back,” Cynthia said.
“You can tell me what you need to right here.”
Cynthia stammered. “B-But people will talk.”
“You mean like people probably talked when Willow got stood-up by a man she thinks is her father? Spit it out, Cynthia.”
She took a deep breath and spoke softly. “Shep is Autumn’s biological father. I met him when he was passing through town and we had an affair. I never told him I was married. I found out I was pregnant, and admitted everything to Greg. We decided to try to make it work. I told Shep shortly before Autumn was born. I didn’t want anything from him, but thought he should know. He asked me to name her Autumn, and I did. That was supposed to be it. But Shep moved to Manhattan so he could be in his child’s life, and it put a strain on my marriage. Greg and I divorced, and Shep asked me to marry him.”
Fury filled my veins, coursing through them like tar. When it solidified, it would be permanent.
