Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“Sorry,” Margot apologized from the front, “if the sign’s shut off, we don’t usually have to lock the doors, too.”
Gracen didn’t hear who had greeted Margot while she finished sweeping, but as she came down the rear hallway, she couldn’t miss the second thing her friend said.
“No, Gracen’s definitely not going to do a walk-in for you, Sonny.”
Hearing her ex’s name was enough to set Gracen off balance on a bad day, but she didn’t miss a step as she came out of the rear of the salon to find the man in question still standing on the salon’s entrance mat.
She shifted her messenger bag on her shoulder, but didn’t move forward to greet Sonny. In his usual slacks and blazer, with laced loafers and cufflinks on his sleeves, he looked better suited smiling for someone’s wedding photos. She never did get the appeal of dressing to the nines every day for work.
“Gracen,” he said.
She looked past him to the view into the parking lot. “Your fiancée isn’t with you today?”
If he caught her subtle hint that she didn’t think he should be standing there inside her salon, Sonny never showed it.
“She’s ...” he trailed off, and then flipped a hand indifferently. “She’s busy lately.”
Fascinating.
Not.
Gracen decided to move straight past the pleasantries and get to the point. “What do you want, Sonny?”
“A conversation, if you had a minute.”
The request made Gracen blink.
For a few reasons.
In the end, all she came up with was a quiet, “What?”
Sonny laugh, as awkward and weak as it was. It didn’t help when he fumbled to explain, “At first, I thought we could do it over a haircut, but let’s be real—”
Margot, who had continued to sweep but behaved like the two weren’t within ten feet of her on either side, interjected, “You’re not the right person to sit in Gracen’s chair, Sonny.”
Gracen shot Margot a look.
Margot shrugged back. “What? It’s true.”
Then, she looked back to Sonny and added, “But to be fair, if I were you, I wouldn’t sit in Delaney’s chair, either.”
Well, she told no lies.
Delaney would totally fuck someone’s hair up for the sake of Gracen’s pride. Best friends had to hold each other’s lines.
Sonny nodded slowly as his gaze settled back on Gracen. “Good to know.”
“I didn’t realize we needed to have a conversation,” she told him.
“Technically, we don’t. Maybe I thought we were fine not having one because we never did, but several conversations have left me overthinking a lot of things lately. Including whether or not the two of us should sit down and talk.”
“I think that’s called a conscience, Sonny. To be honest, I’m surprised you have one.”
Gracen didn’t have to be mean.
She wished she cared that she noticed Sonny’s hair wasn’t as perfectly in place as it usually was when she saw him from a distance—or on one of his many realty signs in town. Even the tie at his throat had been loosened, and his eyes never lied.
There, she found the truth.
“You look tired,” Gracen noted.
He half grimaced in his effort to smile. “It’s been a long week.”
“Wedding’s coming right up, too, huh?”
“A month and a half.”
That was hard to believe.
It still felt like she’d just learned about it.
“Did you have a minute?” Sonny asked. “Just for a walk down to the bridge and back, even?”
All it took was the thought of walking to the bridge for Gracen’s memories to rush through like an ocean’s wave. It wouldn’t be the first time the two walked that familiar sidewalk together. Her favorite lunchtime activity in high school had been walking to Lissen’s Market by the bridge for a bag of mixed candy. Sonny never once said no when she’d ask to go.
“That’s more like ten minutes from here, Sonny.”
He gestured toward her, saying, “You know I can feel it, right? The way you just stand there and hate me?”
Gracen didn’t bat a lash. “Are you looking for sympathy?”
Surely not an apology.
“Excuse me,” Margot interrupted, stepping between the two with a dustpan full of dirt. She headed behind Gracen into the back rooms to dump the pan despite the half of a dozen mini trash cans on the main salon’s floor. It wasn’t five seconds later that she could hear Margot and Delaney whispering.
Of course.
She had more pressing matters to deal with than the two of them when they meant no harm, anyway.
“You’re allowed to hate me,” Sonny said quietly. “But wouldn’t you spend a lot of time and energy doing that after a while?”
Fuck him. She folded her arms, and avoided his gaze. That was easier than trying to deflect how his words hit the mark right on the head. He didn’t take her defensive posturing as the hint she meant for it to be—unfortunately.
“We’ve walked to the bridge a hundred times before,” he told her. “One more seems fitting, doesn’t it?”