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“No.”
“Luca.” I stomp my foot. “I’m not a charity case.”
The line goes deathly silent, and for a minute, I think he’s hung up on me. When Luca finally does speak, he uses a tone that causes my tummy to flutter. Among other parts of my anatomy.
“If I hear you call yourself a charity case one more time, I’m puttin’ you over my knee.”
My breathing turns ragged at the thought of Luca taking me over his knee. His growl vibrates through the phone.
“Tonight,” he growls, then nothing but dead air.
“That’s the look of a woman who can’t wait to get home to her man.”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the voice across from me. I put my hand over my chest and blink at the customer who came in a few minutes ago. The woman is tall and slim but curvy and has luscious red hair and legs that go on for days. She’s wearing denim shorts, leopard print wedges, and a t-shirt that saysThe Boobs Are Real.The Smile Is Fake. Contrary to the quote on her shirt, her colossal smile appears genuine.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
I shake my head. “No problem.”
“I should say, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your call, but that would be a lie.” She continues to grin, amusement swirling in her eyes.
I let out an un-lady-like snort at her honesty. “No worries.”
“I actually came over here to ask you about this shampoo. It smells amazing.” She holds up a bottle of Honeysuckle shampoo. “Do you make it yourself?”
“I do. Everything here is made by me and my mother,” I tell her.
“That’s great.” The woman sets the bottle and a basket of assorted products on the counter. “I’ll take all of this today. And do you ship? I’m not from around here, but I’m sure I’ll love your products. It would be great if I could order online.”
“Sure!” I beam. “Here’s my business card with our website on the back.” I pluck a card from beside the register and hand it over.
The lady studies it. “Are you Sukie?”
I nod. “That’s me.”
“Well, Sukie, I’m Glory. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Glory.”
Glory and I chat for a few more minutes, then she leaves with the promise of placing an order soon.
At lunchtime, Sage and Juniper stop by with some pizza. Across the street, the salon is packed with the bridal party, taking a break while stuffing their faces with cheese and pepperoni. After lunch, customers trickle in and out of the store.
Baja is decent company. We start a mundane conversation, and at one point, he asks questions about my mom. He mentions how she’s a tough nut to crack on the few occasions he’s spent time with her. I explain how my mom is a genuinely warm person, but she has become exceedingly closed off. Baja nods with understanding.
Before I know it, it’s near time to close. I glance at my watch.
“Will you go lock the door for me?” I ask Baja. “I’m going to run to the restroom before we leave.”
“Sure thing, darlin’.” He hops down from where he was perched on the counter and struts toward the front of the store.
As I make my way to the bathroom, I swipe up the bag of trash at the mouth of the hallway and head for the back entrance facing the alley. Using my shoulder, I push open the door and kick the door stop into place to keep it from closing on me before walking a few paces to the dumpster.
Just as I go to toss the garbage inside, something is shoved over my head. Then someone hauls me off the ground. I kick and scream, clawing at the arms around me. My hands are yanked behind my back, then bound with what feels like zip ties.
“Let me go, asshole! Help!”
I’m dragged a short distance, then tossed inside a vehicle. I kick madly, screaming as loudly as I can, and end up hitting my assailant.
