Page 35 of Love so Hot

"Yup. And he's good with kids. Saw him once at the hospital ward during Christmas. You should have seen the way those children's faces lit up." She pauses, meeting my eyes in the reflection. "There's kindness in him, buried deep."

"Kindness.” I turn the word over in my mind like a pebble in a stream - smooth, cool, hard to grasp. I'm not sure what to make of this information. It's conflicting with everything I thought I knew about him.

"Of course, he's still Lawrence Sinclair. Driven. Won't take no for an answer. But that drive? It's not just for himself. He's got awhole lot of people depending on that shipping company of his. Jobs, livelihoods."

"Sounds like a lot of pressure." A twinge of sympathy flares within me, quickly stamped down by my lingering doubts.

"Pressure makes diamonds, or so they say." Her scissors glide through another lock of hair, falling softly to the floor. "Just saying, there might be a diamond hiding under all that rough."

"Maybe But it doesn't excuse the pipeline project."

"Nobody's perfect, Willow." She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze through the salon cape. "But sometimes, even our enemies can surprise us."

The idea of Larry being anything other than a thorn in my side feels alien, yet here it is, creeping into my thoughts uninvited.

The cape swishes around me as I lean forward, intrigued. "How do you know Larry, anyway?" I ask her.

"Knew him before all this corporate tycoon stuff," she says with a smile. "Met him when he was fresh out of the system and still green around the edges." She snips around my ears, her gaze meeting mine in the mirror.

"Really?" I can't help but let curiosity weave its way through my skepticism. "What was he like before he became Mr. Big-Shot?"

"Stubborn. Would stand up for anyone at the drop of a hat." The hairdresser's hands never stop moving, but her eyes soften. "I know he didn't have an easy childhood. Growing up in foster cares and all that," she says. "He experienced some big disappointments. But, despite all that, he was the one you wanted in your corner."

I blink, processing. "He grew up in foster care?"

"As far as I know it," she says. "Bounced around homes until he became of age. But even back then, he had plans. Wanted to make something of himself, prove the world wrong."

"Sounds like he succeeded," I murmur, though the thought stirs an unexpected pang of respect.

"More than you know." She combs my hair gently. "Took over Maldonado's shipping company and not one person lost their job. That's akin to corporate suicide. He's rough around the edges, but his heart – it's gold."

A smile teases at my lips despite myself. It's hard to reconcile this image with the man pushing for a pipeline that could damage so much.

"Trust me, he's fighting battles no one sees." She finishes with my hair, a final flourish that leaves it feeling lighter. "Lawrence Sinclair is more than what the media paints him as."

"And you followed him all the way out to Greenwood Hollow?" I ask her, incredulous that someone could display so much loyalty.

Robyn smiles. "He asked me to make my way out here yesterday. Said he had something special that he only trusted to me."

"Maybe I've been too quick to judge," I admit, studying my reflection – seeing myself with fresh eyes, much like how I'm beginning to see Larry.

"Everyone's got layers, Willow. Like those fancy cakes you see in bakeries. Just gotta find the right slice to see 'em all."

Larry, with his firebrand reputation and sharp business acumen, might be more complex than I gave him credit for. Perhaps he's not just a ruthless industrialist after all; perhaps there's a side to him that cares, truly cares, about others.

"Thanks," I say, more to myself than to Robyn. As she uncloaks me and I rise from the chair, I feel a shift – subtle yet undeniable – in the narrative I've held about Lawrence Sinclair.It's a crack in my armor, a sliver of doubt about my staunch enemy, and it's unsettlingly welcome.

If everything Robyn says is true, maybe I can change his mind about this pipeline project.

Chapter Seventeen

Lawrence

13 yearsold

The bell rings, and I'm out of my seat faster than you can say "mystery meat surprise." I weave through the crowded hallways, dodging elbows and backpacks like I'm in some kind of middle school obstacle course. My eyes scan the sea of faces, searching for the one that matters most.

There she is. Lauren.

---