Page 2 of Captivating Anika

“Morning, girls!” Landon chirps in a singsong voice as he walks into the salon to join them.

When Molly wanders past my office, I wave her in.

“We’re supposed to get that Wella shipment this morning. If you have a chance, could you reorganize the supply shelves a little so there’s room?”

“Sure. I can do it between customers.”

Molly does a little of everything. She mans the front desk, books appointments, helps us with hair washing, brews coffee for the customers, takes care of the laundry, and keeps track of stock levels. In addition, she’ll be helping out with prom season coming up, working on curling and updos.

“Anika!” Landon calls out. “Mrs. Landry is here.”

Just as I get my first customer seated, Kim walks in mumbling, “Sorry I’m late,” as she keeps her head low and beelines it to her station.

It’s that Mrs. Landry is already regaling me with stories about her grandchildren, or I would’ve invited Kim into my office for a quick chat.

I’d love to know how she got the shiner she wasn’t quite able to hide underneath the caked-on makeup.

Hog

“Heading home?”

Vic stops by the driver’s side door of her Jeep and turns to face me.

I run a hand through my hair, which is still wet from the shower I had at the station before we went out for breakfast.

“Actually, I think I’m going to run some errands before I go home. Maybe stop in for a trim if I’m out and about anyway.”

It’s been a while and my hair is almost long enough to put it back in a damn ponytail. I may have been avoiding the Chop Shop, where either Monique or Landon usually cut it, but it’s not because of them I’ve been staying away.

No, the reason for that would be my unhealthy attraction to the salon’s owner. Not only is the woman my friend and crew member’s sister, and far too beautiful and classy for the likes of me, but she’s a decade younger and definitely not interested in anything other than friendship.

It was an innocent comment she made one night last year when some of the guys and I were putting a new kitchen in her house that smacked me upside the head with a harsh dose of reality. She was thanking us for helping out and said something about all of us being like brothers to her.

I realized right then and there we’d never be more than friends, and I’d been an idiot for hanging on to that fantasy for more years than I care to confess to.

I’m not proud to admit I’ve done my best to avoid her, which has gone mostly unnoticed. So, I’ve come to the conclusion I’m basically shooting myself in the foot, cutting her out when I could have her friendship. Hell, it’s better than not having her at all. The only one standing in the way of that is me.

“I was wondering if you were going for a new style,” Vic observes. “I didn’t say anything because I’m kinda digging the Anson Mount look you’ve got going on, but don’t tell Bill I said so.”

Vic is the only female firefighter on our crew, and Bill would be her new husband and a detective for the Durango PD, but I’ll be damned if I know who or what Anson Mount is.

“Jesus, Hog, don’t tell me you’ve never seen Hell On Wheels. It’s the best TV series ever.”

I lift an eyebrow, because everyone on my crew knows I’ll watch an occasional football game, but I prefer a book to sitting in front of the TV. Growing up as a single child on a pig farm, there wasn’t a hell of a lot to do once the chores were done except read. By my father’s decree, the TV was only for the daily newscast and televised sports. Books have always been a welcome distraction and the weekly trips to the library in town with my mother were highlights in my otherwise rather lonely existence.

“You are missing out, my friend,” Vic adds, shaking her head as she unlocks her door and slips behind the wheel. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

I rap my knuckles on the roof of her Jeep and continue to my truck one row over.

Street parking along Main Avenue thankfully isn’t too bad at this time of the morning, and I find a spot only half a block down from the salon.

“Good morning. How can I help you?” the girl at the front desk asks, but my eyes have already found Anika.

She’s at her station, working on a customer, and has her back to me.

“I need a haircut,” I reply.

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