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Nodding, I tell the electrician to send me a quote and his availability. This feels like my old life in Colorado. I started working for a builder when I was seventeen. Then I got a degree in project management, moving up the ranks until I was the second in command in the whole company. The old man was ready to hand me the keys to his kingdom—then it all fell apart. Not long after, my grandparents called, admitting that they’d been swindled by a scummy property manager, and here I am.
He flicks the power back on, and I take out my phone to text Mia. There’s a message from Blondie.
NaturalBlondie:Can’t do this Saturday. I’m free next week, though. My kid has a playdate at a friend’s house. Friday?
TallDarkandHandy:Works for me. Looking forward to meeting you (and finding out if your username is true).
NaturalBlondie:Even if it isn’t, you’ll never know ??
Huffing a laugh, I close the app and find Mia’s number.
Desmond:Power’s back on. Safe to come back.
Mia answers within a second.
Mia:Ten-four.
I wander to the front, through the barbershop, in time to unlock the door for Mia. She’s holding two coffees and hands me one with a tight smile.
“Olive branch,” she explains.
My throat shouldn’t be this tight. It’s just a coffee. I nod, popping the lid to check the contents. Large cappuccino, and judging by the markings on the lid, it includes an extra shot of espresso. My usual order. “Thanks, Mia.”
“Don’t mention it.” She holds my gaze. “Seriously. Don’t mention it. It’s hard for me not to get annoyed at you on a good day.”
I can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips. This woman is something else. Even with her temper, her teasing, she makes me feel like I’m part of something. Like I belong here, if only to make her angry.
“Hey—you got time for a shave?” I rub the scruff on my beard. If I were being honest with myself, I might admit that I’m using this as an excuse to spend more time with Mia, to enjoy this slight detente between us.
Mia blinks, something flashing across her face so fast I can’t quite read it. Apprehension? Nerves? Embarrassment?
I wish she’d let me in. She’s so guarded, it makes me crazy. I want to know everything about her. For just a moment, I allow myself to imagine what it would be like to bring Mia to my family’s Thanksgiving. She’d charm everyone, of course. She’d be fast friends with my cousin Katie, who’s just as spirited as she is. Vince and David, my adoptive brothers, would be insanely jealous. I already know my grandparents love her. Even the thought of showing her off on my arm in front of the whole family makes me want to puff out my chest.
But that’s a pipe dream. Ain’t gonna happen.
“Sure,” Mia says. “I’ve got time for a shave. Take a seat.”
I slide into the chair, vinyl creaking under me, and then the barbershop phone rings. Mia excuses herself with a pat on my shoulder—a casual touch that makes my whole body buzz—and sways those perfect, petite hips toward the front of the shop. She has a fantastic ass, and those jeans look like they were made for her.
“You’ve reached Blade Barbershop; this is Mia speaking. How may I help you?” Her voice is bright and professional, just this side of friendly. She’s never—not once—spoken to me like that, but somehow I don’t mind. When she’s slinging insults at me, it feels more real.
Then Mia’s whole body goes solid. “Colin. How—what do you want?”
I frown, spinning the chair around toward her. She’s got her back to me, but I can see from here that she’s gripping the edge of her desk so hard her fingertips are white. Her shoulders are hiked up near her ears.
“Oh,” she says. “No, it’s fine. It’s just unexpected, is all. It’s been nine years. Why now?”
I lean forward. I don’t like this. Not at all. I don’t like the way Mia’s voice got thin, or the way her leg jiggles anxiously.
There’s a long silence until she says, “This is…quite a shock.” Another long pause. “I don’t know. You made it very clear that you wanted nothing to do with her when I was pregnant. I won’t have you waltzing in and out of her life. She deserves better than that. You’re either in or out until she’s old enough to decide for herself.” Mia glances over her shoulder, sees me watching. Her eyes are tortured, and it kills me not to be able to comfort her. “Listen, I can’t talk. I’m working. Send me an email, I still have the same address. Yeah. Uh-huh. Okay, bye.” She places the phone in its cradle harder than necessary, then takes a moment to gather herself. I watch her take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
When she turns around, Mia is perfectly composed.
“Is everything okay?”
She snorts. “Is everything ever okay?” Shaking her head, she puts up a hand. “Sorry. I’m being horribly unprofessional. Coffee? Tea? Water?” Her eyes flick to the coffee cup in my hands, and she gives me a sheepish smile. “I guess I already covered the drink, didn’t I?”
“You sure you’re okay?”
