Page 2 of Someone to Call My Own
The following day, I walked to the salon and made an appointment to have my hair highlighted. I took a lot of flak from friends and family for my high-maintenance hair routine over the years, but River had always loved my long hair. He’d said the highlights made my green eyes stand out even more. It might’ve seemed silly to some, but I felt a connection to him when I continued doing the things that pleased him.
The interior of the salon was elegant without being fussy and chic without being feminine. I liked the mix of earth tones with old Hollywood style glam. Someone, I suspect the person I saw in the window the previous night, put a lot of love and attention into the design and decorations for the salon.
“Hi, can I help you?”
I turned my attention toward the guy behind the counter who offered me a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Emory Jackson.” I extended my hand to him, but he just stared at it oddly for a few seconds before he shook it and introduced himself as Chaz.
“You’re new around here, aren’t you?” he asked with a quirked brow. Perhaps they weren’t as formal in Blissville as I was accustomed to with my upbringing.
“Just moved in yesterday,” I confirmed. “I would like to book an appointment with a stylist, please.”
Chaz narrowed his eyes and studied my hair. “Hmm, multi-dimensional coloring with a possible need for toning. Whoever did your hair was really good, but don’t worry that you downgraded stylists when you moved to town. The staff at Curl Up and Dye is phenomenal. Let me see who is available first,” he said, looking through the calendar on his computer. “You’re in luck because Josh has a cancellation next week. You’re going to love what he can do for your hair.”
I had a name to go with the silhouette in the window. Like the night before, I could tell someone was watching me. When I turned to face the salon area, I expected to lock eyes with Josh, but everyone in the salon staring at me took me by surprise. I stood there motionless except for blinking as an awkward silence spread throughout the salon.
“I need a big cock!” a bird squawked from another room.
My eyes widened in shock because that was the last thing I expected to hear. A faint blush spread up Josh’s cheeks, and I wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or the nearly hostile vibe I picked up from him.
“Dirty Bird!” Josh said, and the salon erupted into laughter.
“Dirty Bird!” the bird repeated.
“I think I’m going to like living here,” I announced.
“It’s unforgettable,” Chaz said, handing me an appointment card. “We’ll see you next week.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes off the platinum-blond owner to respond right away. I couldn’t explain the type of bond I felt toward him except that it wasn’t sexual. “I’m looking forward to it,” I told Chaz.
Josh turned his attention back to the client, and I could tell he’d dismissed me. I hadn’t made a very good impression on the new neighbor, and for some reason, I kept thinking his opinion would matter to me some day. I gave Chaz a friendly smile and left the salon in search of lunch and groceries.
My height and long hair often made me stand out in a crowd, but it was never as obvious as when I walked into the diner. Everyone stared at me just like the salon clients had, and I realized that it would take me a while to get used to small-town living. The waitress was very friendly when she took my order.
“I’m Daniella,” she replied. “Welcome to Blissville.”
“Thank you, Daniella.” At least she and Chaz seemed friendly. I couldn’t say the residents of the town were hostile; it was more like they were cautious. Josh, who clearly wanted me to pack and leave town, was the only exception up to that point.
I’d spent plenty of time in small towns while helping investigators solve crimes, so I knew it was just a matter of time before I was able to squeeze some information out of the chatty waitress. I learned that Josh Roman was the owner of the salon. He wasn’t married but was involved in a serious relationship with a hunky detective on the Blissville Police Department.
I asked Daniella for ideas on how I could get in the good graces of my new neighbor. She rattled off a brand of wine I’d never heard of and had to drive like twenty minutes to find. I went to his house later that evening with wine in my hand and a smile on my face. I rang the doorbell at the back of the house because I could tell they used it as their private entrance.Great, I sounded like a creepy stalker.Josh whipped open the door like he had been expecting someone. It was obvious by the frown on his face that I wasn’t the person Josh wanted to see.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said flatly. Wow, my visit to his house wasn’t going according to plan.
“Hello to you, too. I wanted to introduce myself formally,” I said, pushing the bottle of wine toward Josh with a pleasant smile on my face.
“I don’t drink,” Josh said seriously. Had I misheard Daniella or was he deliberately lying? I wouldn’t want to play poker with the guy because he wasn’t giving anything away with his facial expression or tone of voice.
“Oh.” My cheeks turned pink from either awkwardness or embarrassment. “Your boyfriend, perhaps?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh?” I was starting to sound like a broken record and question the credibility of my source.
“That’s much too tame of a word for what Gabe is to me,” Josh said. “He’s more of a beer man, anyway. Thank you for thinking of us, though. Mrs. Hastings across the way loves that kind of wine. She’s the beige house with burgundy shutters.” Josh pointed to her house just in case his message wasn’t clear.
“Uh, okay,” I said slowly. I knew I should retreat, but for some unknown reason, I couldn’t. “My name is Emory Jackson,” I said, extending my hand toward him.
He scrutinized my hand like I had a contagious disease before he cautiously shook it. “Josh Roman,” he finally replied. “My boyfriend is Gabriel Wyatt. He’s a detective with the Blissville PD and has a big gun. Real big.” Did he think I was going to give the man a reason to shoot me? Wow, I’d really botched my first impression with the new neighbor.