Page 33 of Sweet Temptation

Angela Simpson looked up from behind the reception counter, her blonde hair swept into a perfect updo, engagement ring sparkling as she waved. “Good morning, Rachel.” She turned to face her morning appointment. “You must be Jackie. I’ve got the coffee brewing.”

The salon was small but stylish—three stations with large mirrors, black leather chairs, and a row of hair dryers along one wall. Photos of smiling clients sporting Angela’s handiwork lined another wall, interspersed with framed cosmetology certificates. A small “Owner/Stylist” placard sat on Angela’s station.

“Can I get either of you something to drink?” Large pink mug in hand, Angela moved toward the coffee station.

“Just water for me.” Jackie’s voice sounded much steadier than she felt.

Rachel shook her head. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Inhaling a long sip of coffee, Angela smiled and waved Jackie to her styling chair, and setting the mug down on top of a rolling tray at her side, she draped the black cape around Jackie’s shoulders with practiced ease. “So we’re thinking a trim today? Maybe some layers?” Her fingers raked through Jackie’s hair as she assessed it in the mirror.

“Just a trim.” Jackie met Angela’s eyes in the reflection, gathering her courage. “Actually, Angela, we didn’t just come for a haircut.”

Angela’s hands paused momentarily before resuming their work. “Oh? What’s up?”

Rachel moved closer, positioning herself where Angela could see her. “It’s about Brad.”

“Brad?” Angela’s smile brightened, her left hand held out, fingers wiggling for the impressive ring to catch the light. “Isn’t it gorgeous? He said he had it custom-made.”

The pride in Angela’s voice made Jackie’s stomach clench. She recognized that feeling—the certainty that you’d been chosen by someone special, someone who saw your worth.

“Angela,” Jackie watched the hairdresser through the mirror, “how long have you known Brad?”

“Almost eight months now.” Angela reached for her scissors.

Eight months? Jackie bit down on her back teeth. The sleaze wasn’t just two-timing her, he was three timing her.

“He comes to town regularly for work,” Angela continued. “The first time he walked in here for a haircut, I just knew there was something special about him.” She laughed. “I’m not usually so forward, but I wrote my number on his receipt.”

Rachel leaned against the empty styling station. “And he told you he was single?”

“Of course he did.” Angela’s hands froze mid-motion. “What kind of question is that?”

Jackie swallowed hard. “The kind you ask when you know he’s not.”

The salon went completely silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. Angela’s face in the mirror shifted from confusion to defensiveness.

“What exactly are you saying?” Angela was no longer bothering to attempt to style Jackie’s hair.

“Recently, I met his wife.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to share all the humiliating details from when she discovered the truth. Though, when this was all behind them, she should probably thank Brad for his part in her meeting Garret.

Angela’s laugh was sharp and disbelieving. “That’s ridiculous. You must be thinking of another Brad. Mine has never been married.”

“Your Brad,” arms crossed, Rachel stared at Angela, “drives a fire-red Maserati, claims to work in corporate consulting—”

“And,” Jackie interrupted her newest friend and future—if only temporarily—sister-in-law, “he has a small scar on his left shoulder from a childhood accident.”

Angela’s face paled slightly. “How do you know about his car? And his scar?”

Jackie met her eyes in the mirror. “Because I dated him too.”

“I don’t believe you.” It was hard to say what trembled more, Angela’s voice or her hands. “This is crazy. I think you should leave.”

“I wish it wasn’t true,” Jackie said. “But look.”

Jackie scrolled through her phone before flipping it around and showing a photo of Jackie and Brad standing beside his distinctive red sports car, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. The date stamp showed it was taken just two months ago.

“That’s… that doesn’t mean anything.” Uncertainty had crept into Angela’s voice.

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