Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
After checking on my order and being told it would be another minute, I squeezed between the carryout crowd and stood toward the back so I wouldn’t block people coming up to the register.
I was thinking about which donuts we should order when I felt a gentle tapping on the back of my leg.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw a little girl with golden-blonde pigtails smiling up at me. She couldn’t have been much older than five, and she had on more pink than I’d ever seen in my entire life.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she returned in the sweetest little voice. “I like your hair.”
“Oh, well, thank you very much.” How stinking cute was she? “I like your hair. And your shoes. Those are so pretty.”
She smiled up at me and toed one of her pink, glittered ballet flats.
“Caroline,” a woman said, rushing over with a smaller child in her arms, this one also a girl with golden-blonde pigtails. “Sorry.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “She gravitates toward pink. In case you didn’t pick up on that.”
“That’s okay. She wasn’t bothering me.”
The woman, who I’d guess was in her mid to late twenties, had blonde hair like the two girls. She was pretty, with small, delicate features, sapphire eyes, and a brilliant smile. And she had killer taste in clothes. She was wearing a camo jacket and black tattered skinny jeans tucked into combat boots.
“I love the pink,” she said, pointing at my hair, then adjusted the child on her hip. “That’s really cool.”
“Thanks. I like playing around. Habits of a stylist, I guess.”
“Oh, you did that yourself?”
I nodded, smiling.
“So, you do hair?”
“Yep.”
“In Dogwood? Which salon are you at?”
“I’m actually working out of my apartment right now. I’m starting my own business.”
“Oh, that’s cool! Good for you.”
“Thank you.” My chest warmed with pride.
The woman pulled her hair over one shoulder and winced as she played with the ends. “I need to get my hair done so bad,” she said. “The girl I was going to moved three months ago, and I’m terrible about just going somewhere and trying someone new. I’m nervous I’ll end up with—”
“Pink hair,” I cut in, smiling at her.
She chuckled. “A girlfriend of mine had a terrible experience once.”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t give you pink hair,” I told her. “Unless you asked for it.”
“I’m sure someone would love that.” She looked down at the little girl playing peekaboo behind her leg.
“Seriously, though, if you’re looking to get your hair done, I could totally hook you up. First haircuts are free. And I have a variety of colors. Not just pink.” I winked at the little princess. She totally looked like a princess in all that pink.
“Really? Okay. Yeah, that would be great.”
“Awesome! Let me just…” I looked around me, then, spotting the menus up at the counter, I excused myself and slipped up front, snagged a pen and scribbled down my info. “Here. That’s my cell. Just call or text me, and I’ll get you in.” I handed her the menu.
“Thanks. I’m actually really looking forward to this.”
“Me too! I’m Shay, by the way. Guess I should mention that.”
She giggled. “That’s okay. I’m Valerie. And these are my girls, Caroline”—she touched the princess on the head, then bounced the child on her hip—“and Fiona.”
I waved at Caroline, then put my attention on Fiona, who looked close in age to her sister.
“Hi, pretty girl. Do you like pink too?” I asked.
Fiona nodded slowly, then buried her face in her mother’s neck.
“She’s my shy one,” Valerie explained.
“Shay! Order to go!” the man at the counter called out.
“That’s me,” I said. “So, yeah, just hit me up, and I’ll totally make all your hair fall out.”
Her eyes went wide.
“Kidding! Kidding.”
I waited for her to laugh before I moved away, waving back at them, then I stepped up to the counter and informed the man who wasn’t Frank—I’d checked—how much I loved Frank’s Pizza as I paid for the two pies.
Not only was their crust game on point, but they served patrons with amazing taste in picking a stylist.
Next stop was Duck Donuts.
The boys went inside with me this time so they could pick out their selections. After some debate, we settled on a variety of glazes, toppings, and drizzles to make up our dozen.
I had no idea what Sean would like, so I wanted to cover my bases.
Then Dominic directed me to Sean’s house.
I knew the place needed a lot of work and, according to Dominic, it was small, but I could immediately see it had potential. It was on a nice chunk of land, it was decent sized—not big, but I wouldn’t say small; average was more like it. It had a cute little wraparound porch and landscape that was overgrown now, but had a good foundation you could build on if you took the time, thanks to the rose bushes and scalloped brick work. Plus, it was close enough to the beach you could make an easy walk out of it, which was huge.