Working the reception desk for a salon on Valentine’s Day should come with a bonus, Wren thought as she hung up the phone and picked up her water bottle, hoping to get a few sips in before the phone rang again.
It seemed as if their entire clientele, along with countless women just calling around for a last-minute appointment anywhere they could get one, had big plans for the evening. She’d been warned ahead of time that it would be a crazy day, and her coworkers hadn’t been lying.
Sadie—who was not only their most popular stylist, but also the owner—paused as she passed by the desk.
“You doing okay, Wren?”
Other than her throat being extra sore from all of the talking, she had a handle on it. “I seem to be. Nobody’s cursed at me, yet.”
She laughed. “Some days that’s all you can ask for.”
Wren didn’t mind being busy. It made the time go by and didn’t allow her to dwell on things she’d rather not think about around the clock. Like the ongoing mental list of items she needed to replace that seemed to get longer each day. While she had the things she absolutely needed, things kept popping up. She didn’t own tweezers. Or slippers. Or a coffee mug of her own.
Luckily, she’d lived rather frugally, except the rent, so she had some savings. Since she’d need a huge chunk of that to move into a new apartment when she finally found one, she was trying not to spend it. Each week, she planned to buy a few small things and start replenishing from her regular paychecks. In the meantime, she was just unbelievably grateful for Patty’s generosity.
During a lull in phone calls, she checked her cell and saw a text message from Cait.
Call me when you get a break.
She still had another few minutes before Kelli would be free to cover the desk, so she sent back a thumbs-up emoji. A few seconds later, she took a call from a tearful woman who wanted to cancel her appointment because she’d found out where her boyfriend had made dinner reservations and apparently the cheap bastard didn’t deserve her at her best.
“Are you sure you want to cancel?” she asked. “No matter where you eat, you might feel better if you look amazing.”
“I’m sure. I’m going to leave my hair in a messy bun and wear my yoga pants just to prove a point.”
After wishing the woman luck, which it sounded like she’d need, Wren scratched her name out and called the next client on the wait list.
When Kelli finally showed up to spell her, she was frazzled. “Sorry, I ran over with that last blowout. The woman would not stop talking. I only have fifteen minutes until my next client.”
“I’m just making a phone call, anyway. No worries.”
Once she was in the break room, which was really only a folding table in a corner of the storage room, Wren brewed a coffee and grabbed a protein bar from her bag. After she’d washed down a couple bites, she pulled out her phone to call Cait.
“Hey, Wren,” she said when she answered. “Gavin and I are going to Kincaid’s tonight. You should come.”
She laughed. “Right, because nothing livens up a Valentine’s Day for a guy like his best friend’s ex tagging along as a third wheel.”
“Shut up. It’s not even like that. We’re not really into the whole holiday thing. Mostly it’s the fact we both have tonight off and a bunch of us are going to the bar to hang out. Lydia’s making some special cocktail for the women, I guess. It’s not like we’re going out on a super romantic date and asking you along.”
It did sound more fun than reading alone in her room. Patty had plans with some single women she knew and Carter would be doing teen boy things. “Are you sure it won’t be weird?”
“I swear. It’s more like a group thing, anyway.”
She couldn’t bring herself to ask Cait if Grant would be a part of that group thing. He hadn’t mentioned it when they had dinner. That could be because it was no big deal and he hadn’t thought of it. Or it could be that he was avoiding the implication of what spending Valentine’s Day together might mean.
Especially after that kiss.
They’d only talked on the phone once in the few days since dinner, but there were a lot of text messages. Sometimes just a hi. He’d been busy with a charity thing and helping a friend work on his truck on his off days, but he’d kept in touch.
She honestly wasn’t sure if they were a couple again. But they seemed to be kind of dating? But not for Valentine’s Day, apparently.
Unless he’d never planned to go and had forgotten about it.
“It does sound like fun,” she admitted to Cait.
“I have to drop off some stuff for my mom, so you can ride with us.”
“Okay. And I can just grab a Lyft home.”
