There were a million reasons. She’d hardly spoken to her mother since she’d moved out, and she couldn’t say she was all that upset about it. “I like living alone,” she answered and formed a row of tiny curls across the woman’s forehead.

“Well, you just watch out for those crazy Basque Allegrezza boys next door. I dated a sheepherder once. They have mighty funny ways.”

Delaney bit her cheek again. Before she’d opened the shop, running into Nick had been a concern of hers, but although she’d seen his Jeep in the common lot behind the two buildings, and their back doors where only a few feet apart, she hadn’t actually seen him. According to Lisa, she hadn’t seen much of Louie lately, either. Allegrezza Construction was working overtime to complete several big jobs before the first snow, which could come as early as the beginning of November.

When Delaney was finished, Mrs. Van Damme was still old and wrinkled and looked nothing like Mae West. “What do you think?” she asked and handed the woman an oval mirror.

“Hmm. Turn me.”

Delaney turned the chair so Wannetta could see the back of her head.

“Looks good, but I’m going to take off fifty cents for those little curls in the front. I never said I’d pay for extra curls.”

Delaney frowned and removed the neck strip and silver plastic cape.

“You give a senior citizen discount don’t you? Helen isn’t as good as you, but she gives a discount to seniors.”

At this rate, she was going to be out of business in no time. As soon as Mrs. Van Damme left, Delaney locked up and put away her green smock. She reached for her vinyl jacket and headed out the back. Just as she stepped outside and turned to shut the door behind her, a dusty black Jeep rolled to a stop in the slot reserved for Allegrezza Construction. She looked over her shoulder and almost dropped her keys.

Nick cut the Jeep’s engine and stuck his head out the window. “Hey, wild thing, where you headed dressed like a hooker?”

Slowly she turned and shoved her arms into her jacket. “I am not dressed like a hooker.”

As he got out of the four-wheel drive, he looked her over. His gaze started at her boots and worked upward. A lazy smile curved his lips. “Looks like somebody had a real good time wrapping you up in electrical tape.”

She pulled her hair from the back of her collar and subjected him to the same scrutiny he’d just given her. His hair was slicked back in a ponytail, and the arms had been hacked out of his blue work shirt. His jeans were worn almost white in places and his boots were dusty. “Did you get that tattoo in prison?” she asked, pointing to the wreath of thorns circling his bare biceps.

His smile flat lined and he didn’t answer.

Delaney couldn’t remember a time when she’d gotten the best of Nick. He’d always been quicker and meaner. But that had been in the past with the old Delaney. The new Delaney stuck her nose in the air and pressed her luck. “What were you in the slammer for, exposing yourself in public?”

“Strangling a smart-ass redhead who used to be blond.” He took several steps toward her and stopped close enough to touch. “It was worth it.”

Delaney looked up at him and smiled. “Did you bend over and pick up the soap?” She expected his anger. She expected him to say something cruel. Something to make her wish she’d run the second she’d seen his Jeep, but he didn’t.

He rocked back on his heels and grinned. “That was a good one,” he said, then he laughed, and it was the deep confident laughter of a man who knew with certainty that no one would think to question his sexual preference.

She couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever heard his laughter that it hadn’t been directed at her. Like the time her mother had made her dress up like a Smurf for the Halloween parade, and Nick and his hoodlum buddies had howled with laughter.

This Nick was disarming. “Sounds like we’re both going to be in Louie’s wedding.”

“Yeah, who would have thought my best friend would end up with crazy Louie Allegrezza.”

His chuckle was deep and genuine. “How’s business?” he asked and really threw her off balance.

“Okay,” she answered. The last time he’d been pleasant to her, she’d let him strip her naked while he’d remained fully clothed. “All I need is a few new locks and some deadbolts.”

“Why? Did someone try to break in?”

“I’m not sure.” She lowered her gaze to the folded papers sticking out of his breast pocket, anywhere but his tractor-beam eyes. “I was given only one key to the business and there have to be more somewhere. I called the locksmith, but he hasn’t made it over yet.”

Nick reached for the door handle by Delaney’s waist and jiggled it. His wrist brushed her hip. “He probably won’t. Jerry is a damn good locksmith when he works, but he works just enough to pay his rent and buy booze. You won’t see him until he runs out of Black Velvet.”

“That’s just great.” She looked down at the toes of her shiny boots. “Has your business ever been broken into?”

“Nope, but I have steel doors and deadbolts.”

“Maybe I’ll just do it myself,” she said, thinking out loud. How hard could it be? All she needed was a screwdriver and maybe a drill.

This time when he laughed, it was definitely at her. “I’ll send over a subcontractor in the next few days.”

Delaney looked up at him then. Up past his chin, his full sensuous mouth, and cool gaze. She didn’t trust him. His offer was too nice. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Suspicious?”

“Very.”

He shrugged. “A person could easily crawl through the vents from one building to the other.”

“I knew your offer wasn’t made out of the kindness of your heart.”

He leaned forward and planted his hands on the wall beside her head. “You know me so well.”

His big body blocked the sunlight, but she refused to feel intimidated. “What’s it going to cost me?”

A wicked smile lit his eyes. “Whatcha got?”

Okay, she refused to show him that he intimidated her. She lifted her chin a little. “Twenty bucks?”

“Not enough.”

Trapped within his arms, she could hardly breathe. A thin slice of air separated her mouth from his. He was so close she could smell the scent of shaving cream still clinging to his skin. She had to turn her face away. “Forty?” she asked, her voice all squeaky and breathless.

“Uh-uh.” He touched his index finger to her cheek and brought her gaze back to his. “I don’t want your money.”

“What do you want?”

His eyes moved to her mouth and she thought he would kiss her. “I’ll think of something,” he said and pushed away from the wall.

Delaney took a deep breath and watched him disappear into the building next door. She was afraid to think of what that something might be.


* * *

The next day at work, she made a sign offering free nail polish with a weave or color. No takers, but she did spray Mrs. Vaughn’s gray hair into the shape of a helmet. Laverne Vaughn had taught grade school in Truly until she’d been forced to retire in the late seventies.

Evidently, Wannetta had been true to her word. She told her friends about Delaney. Mrs. Vaughn paid ten dollars, wanted her senior citizen discount, and demanded a free bottle of polish. Delaney took the sign down.

Friday she shampooed and styled another of Wannetta’s friends, and Saturday, Mrs. Stokesberry dropped off two wigs to be cleaned. One white for everyday wear, the other black for special occasions. She picked them up three hours later, and insisted on placing the white wig on her own head.

“You give a senior citizen discount, right?” she asked as she pulled at the hair about her ears.

“Yes.” Delaney sighed, wondering why she was putting up with so much crap from so many people. Her mother, the gray-haired ladies, and Nick. Especially Nick. The answer came to her like the ringing of her cash register. Three million dollars. She could put up with a lot for three million big ones.

As soon as the woman left, Delaney closed the salon early and went to visit her friends Duke and Dolores. The dogs trembled with excitement as they licked her cheeks. At last, friendly faces. She rested her forehead on Duke’s neck and tried not to cry. She failed, just as she was failing with the salon. She hated finger waves and spraying hair into domes. She really hated washing and styling wigs. Most of all, she hated not doing what she loved. And what Delaney loved was making ordinary women look extraordinary. She loved the sound of blow-dryers, the tempo of rapid snipping, and the smell of dyes and perming solutions. She’d loved her life before she’d come back to Truly for Henry’s funeral. She’d had friends and a job she loved.

Seven months and fifteen days, she told herself. Seven months and then she could move anywhere she wanted. She rose to her feet and reached for the dogs’ leashes.

Half an hour later, she returned from walking the dogs and put them back in their pen. She was just about to open her car door when Gwen stepped outside.

“Can you stay for dinner?” her mother asked, wrapping a beige angora sweater around her shoulders.

“No.”

“I’m sorry I had to leave your party early.”

Delaney fished her keys from her pocket. Usually she bit her tongue and held it all inside, but she wasn’t in the mood. “No, I don’t think you are.”

“Of course I am. Why would you say such a thing to me?”

She looked at her mother, at her blue eyes and blond hair cut in a classic bob. “I don’t know,” she answered, deciding to back down from an argument she would lose anyway. “I’ve had a crappy day. I’ll come to dinner tomorrow night if you want.”

“I have plans for tomorrow night.”

“Monday then,” Delaney said as she slid into her car. She waved good-bye, and as soon as she’d returned to her apartment, she called Lisa. “Are you free tonight?” she asked when her friend picked up. “I need a drink, maybe two.”