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“Anyway,” Pepper continued, “it’s not like Norman has a child in law school to take over the practice when he retires.”
Blake, the oldest Chamberlain, taught and coached football at the high school. Mitchell was in med school, and his twin, Maddie, worked at the bakery. Grant was a fireman and Simon was a cop. The youngest, Hazel, was still in high school, but somehow Pepper doubted that the bespectacled bookworm she saw around town would be interested in law.
“In a few years, we’ll be thankful we don’t have to recruit a law firm to come into the area. Not many up-and-coming lawyers are interested in leaving the big cities for a little place like this.” Pepper finally finished trimming Miss Francine’s hair.
She set aside the scissors and ran her fingers through the damp strands. “We’ve just got to blow you out,” she said, “and you’ll be good to go.”
Pepper used the round brush to quickly dry and shape the older woman’s strawberry blonde hair into the style she preferred. The color was nothing like the original, but Miss Francine had told her that once she went gray, there was no reason she couldn’t change things up. She’d always wanted hair the same color as Ann-Margret and that’s what she got. Pepper sprayed her work with hair spray and spun Miss Francine to the mirror to admire her handiwork.
“Wonderful, as always, Pepper.” Miss Francine dug into her purse for her money, leaving her a generous tip. “Now, you mentioned going on vacation soon, right? It’s not going to interfere with my appointment, is it?”
Pepper was taking a week off work to get some things done around the house. She couldn’t wait to start getting her house into better shape. “No, ma’am,” she said. “I’m taking off the week of Valentine’s Day. You won’t be back here until the following week.”
“Okay, good,” Miss Francine said, getting up from her chair.
“After the Valentine’s rush, I’m going to need a full day of pampering.”
Pepper arrived on her brother’s doorstep at five thirty with a pizza, a six-pack, and a box of cupcakes from Rosewood Bakery.
It took him a few minutes but finally the door swung open, revealing him to be covered in dirt and out of breath. There were flecks of dust in the brown waves of his hair and dark smudges along the square line of his jaw.
“Hey, sis,” Logan said, smiling.
“You look like hell,” she stated. “Did you get in a fight with a feather duster?”
“Something like that,” he admitted, taking a step back into the entryway to allow her in. “I made the mistake of pulling down the ladder to the attic. Apparently no one has done that in a couple, um, decades.”
“Lovely. You get in the shower and rinse off. I’ll have pizza waiting for you when you get done.”
“Thank you,” he said, leaning in to give her a kiss on her cheek. “Oops.” He reached out and brushed away the smudge he left behind. “I’ll be right back.” He turned and ran back upstairs.
Pepper shut the front door behind her and weaved her way through the piles of boxes and random furniture to the kitchen in the back of the house. Formerly a real estate office, the majority of the downstairs had been used as offices and conference rooms. She supposed her brother would do the same once he opened his practice. Tucked in the back, the kitchen was untouched.
It was also unrenovated. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Pepper’s house, but considering no one had used the oven here in twenty years, no one had replaced it, either. All the fixtures were old, the wallpaper dated. The only modern thing in the place was a Keurig coffee machine on the counter. Knowing Logan, that was the first thing he’d unpacked.
Pepper slid a box labeled “kitchen stuff” out of her way and put the pizza and drinks on the counter. She opened an empty cupboard, then another and realized he didn’t have any plates, cups, or flatware unpacked. She supposed that was the difference between her and her brother. Pepper didn’t cook much, but whenever she moved into a new place, the kitchen was the first thing she put away.
She hadn’t thought to ask for paper plates at the pizza place.
They gave her napkins and twenty little packets of red pepper flakes, but no plates. Looking around, she eyed the different boxes and started opening ones that looked promising. In the fourth or fifth box, she found a stack of paper plates. That was all they needed. They could drink from the cans since they were still cold.
Pepper carried everything into the conference room to eat. Technically, it was the formal dining room, but it had a long table with rolling executive chairs, the far wall had a screen, and overhead, instead of a light fixture, there was a computer projector.
Logan joined her a few minutes later, clean and with damp hair. “Thanks for bringing food. I’ve had nothing but coffee and chips all day.”
“This is a nice setup,” she said, gesturing around the room. “Did you bring this with you?”
“No, it came with the house. They left this stuff, th
e chairs and coffee table in the lobby, and a big desk in the room I’ll use for my office.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah. A few less things I need to buy.” Logan lifted a piece of pizza onto a plate and sat down. “Starting your own business isn’t for sissies. It’s hard to justify buying a flat-screen television for the lobby when I have no clients.”
Pepper passed him a soda. “You’ll get clients. You just have to open.”
Logan shrugged, taking a bite of his food instead of arguing with her. Pepper knew he was worried. Moving back to Rosewood and going out on his own was a big deal. Especially going up against competition like the Chamberlains’ firm. It was a risk, but she knew he did it for the family. He couldn’t sit idle in Huntsville while everything was falling apart at home.
