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“I couldn’t imagine losing one of my sisters,” Amanda said after a moment. “It must have devastated your parents.”
He nodded, unable to say more, because it had devastated them, and Coby’s death had changed the dynamics of the family, not that their family had ever been the perfect family. His father and grandfather had no relationship, which meant Tyler really never knew his grandfather, either. His grandmother, Bette, was another matter. His grandmother was sweetness and light… the kind of grandmother that deserved those silly mugs that read World’s Best Grandmother.
“You said you were here for business,” the stylist added, thankfully changing the subject. “You must be in the ranching business then.”
“No. I’m in tech.”
Her full lips pursed. “Tech?”
“I design games.”
“Games?” she repeated, a delicate eyebrow arching.
“Computer games.”
“That must be fun.” Her eyes met his in the mirror. She was smiling and her smile did something funny to his chest.
“It’s creative,” he answered.
“You’re giving people something fun to do. Good for you. People need entertainment to help us unplug from the world, don’t you think?”
He found himself watching her as she took the big soft brush and went over his nape, brushing off stray hair. He hated being so cynical, but was she for real? “I do.”
“I’ve never played games, but I love to read, and go to the movies. Feel-good movies. I avoid the depressing ones.”
He wished he’d been prepared for her, and not just how pretty she was with her high cheekbones and gleaming blonde hair pulled back in a high teased ponytail, but her kindness and good nature. She reminded him of spring rain—sweet and refreshing—which wasn’t at all his impression of her before he came.
“How is the length?” she asked, turning the chair and handing him a mirror so he could see the back of his head. “Any shorter?”
“It’s a little longer than I usually wear it,” Tyler said. “But I like it. Looks good.”
“I think so, too. It gives you a ’70s rock star vibe.”
He felt a strange rumble of laughter in his chest, strange because he didn’t really laugh much, not anymore. His world had become so weighty and serious. “I’m far from that.”
“I don’t know.” A dimple appeared at the corner of her full lips. “If you’re a game designer, you can be anyone you want to be.” She unsnapped the black plastic cape, removing it from around his shoulders. “How long are you in town?”
“Through the weekend.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy your stay. Marietta is a great little town. Everyone that comes here, falls in love—”
“Don’t say that.”
“With the town,” she finished, laughing again. “But what’s wrong with falling in love?”
“Nothing. But I’m not looking for love. Or a new place to live. I like Austin.”
“A Texas boy.”
California, he wanted to correct her, as he’d only relocated to Austin two years ago, but there was no point in telling her any of that. They weren’t friends, and furthermore, once she knew who he really was, they’d never be friends. The warmth inside of him cooled, and his faint smile faded. Standing, he reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“Thirty-five. And you can pay Emily. She’s at the desk in reception.”
“You did a good job.”
“Then leave a review,” she teased, reaching for the broom and dustpan tucked in the corner next to her station. “And enjoy Marietta. It’s a great place to be.”
“I’ll try,” he answered.
“Not good enough,” she called after him.
He turned in the doorway to look back at her, all golden blonde and astonishingly pretty in the winter sunlight, and yet she was smiling at him in a way that made his chest ache.
She made him feel young and hopeful, just as he’d felt as a boy when he’d see a cute girl. But he wasn’t a boy, and he wasn’t in town because he wanted to be, but because he needed to be. He’d arrived to put distance between this woman and his grandmother, a move that wasn’t going to make him popular with anyone, but he was a man who did what needed to be done. That was what had made him who he was today. “Good-bye.”
“Good luck tomorrow.”
Tyler felt strangely out of sorts as he left the salon on Church Avenue and walked to his car. A few patches of dirty snow still dotted some of the neighboring lawns, but otherwise the streets and sidewalks were clear. In the distance he could see the peak of Copper Mountain rising behind the small Montana town. So far, he didn’t love or hate Marietta. It was just a small town in the middle of nowhere and not easy to reach. He’d taken two flights to get here from Austin, flying Austin to Denver, and Denver to Bozeman, and then he’d needed a rental car to drive the thirty-five miles from Bozeman to Marietta. Not impossible, just by no means convenient, particularly when there were power struggles internally at TexTron. He’d survive the power struggles, but it would be less stressful weathering storms if he were in the office than here in remote Crawford County, Montana.
As he crossed the street, he wondered what his grandmother, Bette Justice, would think when she found out he’d booked an appointment with her favorite stylist, Amanda Wright, a young woman she claimed was one of her best friends, and so important to her that in the past few years she’d given her a large financial gift, and was now wanting to leave the young woman her house on Bramble.
Tyler was a self-made man. He didn’t need his grandmother’s money. But at the same time, he wanted to be sure his grandmother wasn’t being unduly influenced, or pressured in any way. Gram had been on her own for almost seven years now, and it was probably too much isolation from her family, so he wasn’t entirely surprised that she’d come to depend on outsiders,
which was why he was here now. He’d wanted her to move in with him for years, and he’d been trying to convince her that the move would be good for both of them, because he wanted to take care of her. But he couldn’t do that with her in Montana while he was in Austin.
He’d arrived today in Marietta thinking the worst of Amanda Wright, but after thirty minutes in her chair, he discovered she was nice, and rather charming, and he could see why Gram was fond of her. But there was a difference between being fond of someone and giving them sizeable financial gifts… or a sizable chunk of her estate.
Gram’s announcement that she would soon amend her will got his attention and he cleared his schedule at work, booked the flights, and now here he was, in his father’s hometown, a town his father absolutely hated.
Bette Justice arrived at The Wright Salon twenty minutes early for her two o’clock appointment because she’d come bearing gifts—two chicken salads from Java Café.
“Emily said you had a short break between appointments,” Bette said as Amanda appeared at the receptionist desk. “So we’re going to eat first.”
“What if I already ate?” Amanda answered, smiling indulgently.
“But you haven’t. Emily said so.”
Amanda shot her receptionist an amused glance before leading Bette to the white painted table in the corner of what once had been the dining room but was now a mix of small round tables and comfortable seating for salon guests to use for meals and relaxing in between appointments.
“By the way, I have news,” Bette said, opening their salads and arranging the place settings on the table.
“Oh?” Mandy replied, bringing two glasses of water to the table and sitting down opposite Bette.
“As you know, my grandson wants me to move to California. But he’s getting serious now. He thinks I must move… that it’s not good for me to be living alone.”
“Why not?”
“He worries I might fall or have an accident.”
