Page 88 of When the Fake Snow Falls

“No sign of her yet?”

“Who?” I ask absently before my eyes jump to the clock in the salon. How is it already 2:45? It feels like I just got here. As soon as I see the time, I register who she’s talking about.Glancing back at Amanda, I keep my voice low. “She didn’t call?”

“Nope. No cancellation, and no last-minute call, begging to bump her time up.”

Drying my bowl, I set it on the counter. “Interesting.”

When our eyes meet again, Amanda gives me a sympathetic smile. She knows everything that happened. I was in a funk yesterday. Hell, I’m still in a funk now, but even if I were my usual self, she still would have cornered me with a million questions after that party.

Turning to rest my back against the counter, I look in the direction of the front door. “Think she’ll show?”

“She better,” Amanda says with a huff. When I look at her, she adds, “The whole reason you’re not with Chase is because you need to keep her as a client, right?”

I tilt my head from side to side. “More or less.”

Glaring back at the front door, she mutters, “Yeah. So, she better fucking show.”

She’s right, of course. I want Nicolette to remain a happy customer. That’s the whole point, but as I scan the busy street and sidewalk out front, I can’t help hoping she doesn’t come. I haven’t had enough time to build up my armor again, and I feel exposed.

“Have you heard from him?” Amanda asks quietly, her voice like a gentle nudge.

I pull my phone from my back pocket and glance at the empty lock screen before tucking it away again. I didn’t think I’d have any new messages from Chase, but checking has become a habit that’s hard to break. “He texted me yesterday.”

Her eyes widen. “What did he say?”

I take a breath, desperate to make my shoulders relax. “Just that he’s sorry, and he wishes things were different.” Glancing at Amanda, I shrug. “I feel the same.” She smiles sympathetically, and it tugs at my heartstrings a little too much. Shiftingmy gaze back to the street outside, my eyes land on a blonde with large sunglasses and a leopard-print blouse making her way across the street. Nodding in Nicolette’s direction, I say, “Even if I phase her out, it could take months. It wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Pulling my eyes away from my very own Cruella De Vil, I lock eyes with Amanda. “I don’t know.”

The bell chimes as the door opens, and Amanda quickly rubs my arm and whispers, “Good luck.” She turns to address Nicolette with her best customer service smile. “Good afternoon! Candace is ready for you.”

Nicolette gives her a tight-lipped smile, but there’s something off about her. She’s rigid. This isn’t the tornado of a woman who always barges in with a big entrance. This woman makes an entirely different statement. I wonder if this is corporate Nicolette. The one she uses as a front between harassing Chase in his office. I try to remember what she was like at the party, but I was too shocked to pick up on details. Just her being there was enough to put me on edge.

But her being here now is having the same effect in an entirely different way. It’s like now that I’ve seen her in her natural element, her mask has slipped. She can’t be whoever she wants to be around me anymore, because I know exactly who she is, and she’s probably wondering how much Chase told me.

Just the thought of him sends a pang to my chest. I didn’t want to cuthishair because I didn’t want the constant reminder of him, but that’s exactly what Nicolette will be. She’s a reminder of Chase. She’s my only remaining tie to him.

“Nicolette,” I say with my best smile. “It’s great to see you.”

She doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she reaches into her purse to pull out a hard case for her sunglasses. Once she’s slipped them off her head and carefully tucked them into thecase, she snaps it shut and looks at me with a sympathetic tilt to her head. “Candace. How are you holding up?”

I’m usually good at hiding my reactions from her, but my eyebrows pull together before I have the chance to stop them. “Fine?” I say, not bothering to hide the question in my voice.

Nicolette sets her bag down on a nearby table, making herself at home in my salon. “Well, it’s just that Ihatedhow you found out about Chase and me.”

“Ah.” I give an understanding nod, but I don’t want to indulge her. Even if hearing someone say his name feels both like a breath of fresh air and a suffocation attempt. Walking over to my cabinet, I ask without looking her way, “Same thing as always today? Wash and blow-dry?”

She doesn’t answer right away, and I know this is a power trip to make me look at her. It’s fine. I can put on a mask. I can look at her. I let myself close my eyes for a brief moment before glancing over my shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she says with mock concern, her bottom lip jutting out.

“Nicolette, I’m fine, but I’m on a tight schedule today, so if you want your hair done, you need to tell me what we’re doing.” The words shoot out of me like a firecracker, and I’m tempted to clasp a hand over my mouth as soon as they’re out. I’m tempted to actuallyapologize,but I clamp my lips shut, refusing to let it slip.

Her eyes blaze but only for a second. By the time I blink, she’s back to her mask of mock sympathy. “And you poor thing. The way Chase handled that situation was downright awful. He and I had a long chat about it and sorted everything out.”

“That’s great,” I say as I turn my attention back to my cabinet and reach for a fresh cape. I try not to let the thought of her havinga long chatwith Chase get to me. I wonder what his version of this story is.

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