Page 62
Story: Date With Danger
He shakes his head. “Yeah. I was really counting on that ring to get me through until my new employer pays me.”
“You’ve already got a new job? Ask for an advance.”
He paces in front of the window. “I can’t do that. I’m already in debt.”
“With your new employer?” Who is this crazy-eyed man? He’s not making any sense. I hate to even think it, but I’m worried he’s strung out on drugs right now.
“Yes. It’s all a mess. And I’ll tell you later. But I have to find the ring before he does.”
Cold chills sweep down my spine. What does that mean?
Justin picks up a tabloid magazine off a nearby stand and squeezes the life out of it, turning Kylie Jenner’s beautiful face into a shriveled mess.
“Who is he? And why does he want my engagement ring?” I’m beyond confused right now. I reach for my phone on top of my cart, about two seconds from calling the police.
He drags a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then I guess you should leave.”
His eyes fly to mine. “But I’ll come by your apartment later, okay?”
Good thing he doesn’t know where I live. My blood turns cold. Yesterday he didn’t know where I worked, but he figured that one out pretty easily. Forget being friends with this man, I want him far away from me.
“You show up at my house and I’ll call the police.”
His face turns beet red and he curses. “Two years I put up with you, Millie, give me something at least.”
Give him something?
I shove my cart out of the way and lunge forward, slapping him across the face. My palm stings but I welcome the pain. I should have done that forever ago.
He falls back with a deadly scowl. “You’ll regret that.”
“I doubt it.”
He turns and storms out of the salon.
Applause erupts around me but it doesn’t curb the fear he placed in my heart. Clearly, I never knew the real Justin and the man that left terrifies me. Will he show up at my apartment?
The door opens, and for a split second I fear Justin is back, but it’s Leah coming back from her break, her cross-body bag bouncing on her hip. “Was that your ex? What happened?”
I motion around to the now silent room. “You can ask them. I need a minute.”
My cheeks are hot and my vision is blurry by the time I make it to the color room. I splash some water on my face then immediately regret it. I’m not wearing waterproof mascara. I choke back a sob, reining in my emotions. I’ll cry no more tears for Justin.
I open my locker and am digging through my purse when Leah comes in, finding me mid-tug-of-war with my purse and the locker.
“Release it, you beast.” I slap the locker, but it stings my palm. More than it did when I hit Justin. The pain seems to be connected to the back of my eyes and it ushers out the unwilling tears. “Come on.” I tug the bag again but when I do, half the contents tumble to the floor.
Leah rushes to my side, scooping up the random items. “Amelia, are you okay?”
I sniff, picking my emotional armor up piece by piece, locking up my defenses. “I will be.”
“I can’t believe he stormed in here demanding things from you like that. That man needs to be taught a lesson.”
I’m comforted by the matching indignation in her voice.
“Agreed.”
“You’ve already got a new job? Ask for an advance.”
He paces in front of the window. “I can’t do that. I’m already in debt.”
“With your new employer?” Who is this crazy-eyed man? He’s not making any sense. I hate to even think it, but I’m worried he’s strung out on drugs right now.
“Yes. It’s all a mess. And I’ll tell you later. But I have to find the ring before he does.”
Cold chills sweep down my spine. What does that mean?
Justin picks up a tabloid magazine off a nearby stand and squeezes the life out of it, turning Kylie Jenner’s beautiful face into a shriveled mess.
“Who is he? And why does he want my engagement ring?” I’m beyond confused right now. I reach for my phone on top of my cart, about two seconds from calling the police.
He drags a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then I guess you should leave.”
His eyes fly to mine. “But I’ll come by your apartment later, okay?”
Good thing he doesn’t know where I live. My blood turns cold. Yesterday he didn’t know where I worked, but he figured that one out pretty easily. Forget being friends with this man, I want him far away from me.
“You show up at my house and I’ll call the police.”
His face turns beet red and he curses. “Two years I put up with you, Millie, give me something at least.”
Give him something?
I shove my cart out of the way and lunge forward, slapping him across the face. My palm stings but I welcome the pain. I should have done that forever ago.
He falls back with a deadly scowl. “You’ll regret that.”
“I doubt it.”
He turns and storms out of the salon.
Applause erupts around me but it doesn’t curb the fear he placed in my heart. Clearly, I never knew the real Justin and the man that left terrifies me. Will he show up at my apartment?
The door opens, and for a split second I fear Justin is back, but it’s Leah coming back from her break, her cross-body bag bouncing on her hip. “Was that your ex? What happened?”
I motion around to the now silent room. “You can ask them. I need a minute.”
My cheeks are hot and my vision is blurry by the time I make it to the color room. I splash some water on my face then immediately regret it. I’m not wearing waterproof mascara. I choke back a sob, reining in my emotions. I’ll cry no more tears for Justin.
I open my locker and am digging through my purse when Leah comes in, finding me mid-tug-of-war with my purse and the locker.
“Release it, you beast.” I slap the locker, but it stings my palm. More than it did when I hit Justin. The pain seems to be connected to the back of my eyes and it ushers out the unwilling tears. “Come on.” I tug the bag again but when I do, half the contents tumble to the floor.
Leah rushes to my side, scooping up the random items. “Amelia, are you okay?”
I sniff, picking my emotional armor up piece by piece, locking up my defenses. “I will be.”
“I can’t believe he stormed in here demanding things from you like that. That man needs to be taught a lesson.”
I’m comforted by the matching indignation in her voice.
“Agreed.”
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