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I remained silent after her exposition, but glanced at Clem. To my surprise, she seemed to pay attention now though part of me wished she hadn't.

"Up for a blowout?" Jordan ran her fingers through my hair, then combed it down. "It'll look good."

"Nah." I smirked at the fresh cut when she flopped all of it to one side. "Looks good as it is. It'll dry pretty straight anyway."

"Always does." Again, she tousled my hair as if inspecting all her work. "Good color on you, even while wet."

"I like it. Thanks."

"Clem, you've never dyed your hair, right?" Jordan wrapped her back into the conversation with ease. "Always beautiful honey-blonde with the summer sun, dirty-blonde in the winter darkness. The envy of lasses abundant." She let out a dramatic sigh as she wiggled her fingers through Clem's hair. "Rapunzel at her finest."

A smile slowly curved Clem's lips, but she didn't say anything. Clearly Jordan's theatrics entertained her and broke through the bit of shyness that led the way. At least in this setting she didn't come across as bitchy the way she did at work.

"What are we doing today, girl?"

"Layers, please."

"Long in the back, shorter in the front, yeah?" Jordan smiled at her in the mirror while combing out her hair. "To fool the masses. A shocker when you turn on your heel and stomp away."

Clem laughed softly, shaking her head. "Yes, but not dramatic like that."

"You got it." Jordan chuckled and rubbed her shoulders. "Let's get to work."

"'Kay." Clem smiled and sat up super straight in the chair while watching in the mirror.

"I'm gonna head out," I said, chuckling at the two of them. "Thanks, Jordy. I sent you bills in the app. See you at work, Clem."

"Thanks, girl." Jordan saluted me with her scissors. "Think about the party."

"Already thought about it." I shook my head.

Clem offered me a small wave, and my awkward one in return left much to be desired. I walked backward toward the front door, then grabbed my board from its leaning post against the wall.

"Later."

"Later, skater." Jordan winked, a wry grin curving her lips as she returned her focus to Clem.

Chapter Five

"I'm panicking," Tatiana declared, pacing the floor of our loft. She wore a set of paint-ridden overalls, with matching streaks up her arms.

"I see this. Why are we panicking?" I said in between bites of cereal.

"It's weird without Reagan. It's been two weeks."

"I know, but she's doing great with her grandma. Is that what you're panicking about?"

"Not only." She dropped down to sit beside me. "The gallery show is in a month. I still need two more pieces."

"Uh huh…" I listened to her, setting my bowl down so that I could face her. "What else?"

"Isn't that enough?" She huffed and frowned at me. Her hand swept her messy hair behind her ear, and I noted the white paint stuck in it as well.

"Yes, but there's more. I know you." I wiggled my fingers in her face. "I see it."

"Wyatt's coming over tonight…"

"Yeah, and? He's been here a million times. You've been to his as well."