Page 5 of Ten

Savannah glared at Billie who was giggling now. “He does not make me pant. I am not a panter! Or a sweater! I am not interested in Travis!”

“Sure,” I remarked with faked sincerity.

“He has a girlfriend!”

“So do most of the guys who hit on me,” Billie said. “Even a wedding band doesn’t stop some of these two-timing motherf—”

“Billie!” Savannah hissed.

“Fluffers,” Billie finished with a dramatic flourish.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Savannah turned her frustrated gaze back to me. “As I was saying,” she emphasized each word, “one ofyourfavorite guests is coming to the salon after lunch.”

“None of my favorites are on my books today.”

“I didn’t say he was on your book,” Savannah clarified, looking like the cat that got the cream. “He’s on Holly’s.”

Him? On the outside, I remained cool and calm, but inside, nervous butterflies swarmed my belly. Surely, she didn’t mean...?

Billie frowned as she dragged her naan through the rich buttery sauce in her bowl. “There’s no one on Holly’s book today. She had me block it off last month so she could dip out early for her flight to LA with her mom.”

“Oh, did she?” Savannah pretended to be surprised. “Well, that must have been my mistake! But, that’s okay. I’m sure Nisha will be more than happy to squeeze him into her chair.”

“Savvy!” I glared at her, hoping my narrowed eyes would take away from the obvious flush of excited nervousness. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I definitely did. Ten will be your last appointment of the day.”

Ten.

Anton Vasiliev.

The big, huge, sexy-as-hell bodyguard who shadowed Vivian Kalasnikov.

The outrageously handsome man who had been openly flirting me with for almost two years.

The first man to ever make me feel needy flutters and that dark, curling, squeeze of desire between my legs.

The only man I had ever fantasized about, turning off the lights in my bedroom and using my favorite toy while thinking of his rough, tattooed hands touching my body.

“Right.” Suddenly flustered and no longer hungry, I gathered up my lunch mess and left the table. Savannah called out after me, obviously regretting her little trick, but I ignored her as I cleaned and dried my vintage Tupperware and packed everything back into my lunch bag.

“Nisha! Wait!” Savvy chased after me, blocking the doorway of the employee lounge. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I just meant it as a little joke. I didn’t think—.” She shook her head. “Look, I’ll find someone else to cut his hair, and you can leave early if you’d like. It’s just—well, I thought you two were flirting. I didn’t realize he made you uncomfortable.”

“He doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” As much as I wanted her to grovel, I didn’t want her to think she had misread a situation and put me in danger. “The opposite actually.”

“Okay?” Clearly confused, she asked, “Are you not interested? Are you seeing someone?”

“I don’t date, Savvy. You know that. Everyone knows that.”

“I mean, there’s not dating and then there’s living a celibate life like a nun,” Savannah said. “I mean, I grew up with nuns, and you are definitely not nunnish.”

“Is that even a word, Savvy? Nunnish?”

“Don’t try to distract me with a language discussion! You know my nerdy crossword puzzle-loving ass is unable to ignore any talk of vocabulary.”

She was right. I had hoped she would go off on a tangent about the etymology of nuns and let me escape without any more uncomfortable questions about my love life and my infatuation with Ten.

“Listen,” Savannah stepped closer and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry, and I will fix this. I shouldn’t have played games with your feelings. That was wholly inappropriate of me.”

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