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Brandy didn’t laugh like Steph expected her to. “What’s really going on, Steph? You’re the one who’s usually jilted, and you’ve been hurt many times because of it. Do you really want to be the one to do that to Cal with no rhyme or reason?”
“I have a lot of reasons.” Steph broke down an empty box and tossed it into the garbage pile she was collecting to take to the trash. How she was going to let Cal know he was uninvited to the barbecue, she hadn’t decided. She needed to do it today at some point, or he’d just show up at her place tomorrow. She had a hunch he wasn’t going to let her ghost him for too much longer.
“Being too amazing isn’t a valid reason.”
“There arenored flags about him,” Steph said. “That’s a red flag right there.”
“Okay, Steph,” Brandy said with a sigh. “I can’t make you like the guy no matter how great he is.”
Steph didn’t answer because shedidlike Cal. Maybe even more than like. That’s why she wasn’t able to see his flaws clearly. With any other guy she’d ever dated, it had been relatively simple to spot their flaws—she’d then decide that they were okay to live with, until the big doozies came along.
“Say hi to my mom for me,” Brandy continued in a too-cheerful tone. “Ask if she’s dating anyone. She’s been denying it, but I still wonder.”
“Will do.” Steph was grateful for the change of subject.
“Steph?” Carol opened the door to the storage room. “Can you take a haircut walk-in?”
She covered the receiver. “I’m in the middle of stock.”
“It can wait.” Carol moved away without any further discussion.
“Boss has issued instructions,” Steph said into the phone. “I’ll report on what your mom says.”
She hung up with Brandy, then headed out of the stock room. A man had been led to her salon chair, his profile to her. Dark hair, broad shoulders, bristle on his jaw …
Cal.
Well, there was nowhere to hide now. She couldn’t go back into the storage room because his gaze had already spotted hers in the mirror. Even though her stomach was doing crazy flips, she walked calmly—sort of—toward him.
“How are you?” she asked. “Helping Rachel today?”
He was studying her and didn’t answer. Maybe he’d come to chew her out?
She picked up the black cape she used for all of her clients. “Are you here for a haircut or a shave?” It might sound like a dumb question, but some men came in for a shave if the barber was out for lunch.
“Haircut.”
“Okay, then.” She draped the covering around him, then snapped it closed at the back of his neck. “Shorter in the same style? Or something new?”
“You choose.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d received that request, and usually it was from men. But this was Cal. He looked fine—perfect, in fact. And he was still watching her.
She picked up the spray water bottle because she wasn’t about to offer him a shampoo, and spritzed water onto his hair.
Still no conversation.
She drew in a breath. “Look, I got your message, Cal,” she said as quietly as possible. “Sorry I haven’t replied. Things have been crazy.”
“No problem.”
His voice was more stiff than genuine. She knew it had been a problem. She set down the spray bottle and reached for her comb. “How did your assignment go?”
“Excellent.”
Okay … so one-word answers were on the menu today. She hoped Lydia would be on time for her appointment, even early, so then Cal would be ushered out the door after paying. Wait. She wouldn’t charge him. That would alleviate some of the guilt currently pounding through her chest. “Good, I’m glad.”
“Are you?”
