Page 4 of Beauty and the Grease
My hand instantly goes to my ring finger and the light groove that hasn’t disappeared. “We separated three years ago. Two years divorced.”
Her hand stalls on the door handle. “Lisa?”
“Yeah, Lisa.” She knew Lisa. “Two kids.” So she doesn’t have to ask.
Her posture softens. “Oh. Kids.”
I wait for more, but she pushes out of the truck.
CHAPTER 3
Jenny
This is madness. I’m three steps ahead of Chase, forcing myself to keep my cool. The heater in the truck turned my hair into mangy terrier frizz. It’s always been my fantasy to look like a wet dog as I pick up my rich ex in a clown-themed tow truck.
The bell chimes as we cross through the back entrance.
“This…is a hair salon,” Chase says behind me.
Right, he doesn’t know. “Yeah, I own both storefronts. They’re connected from the inside—see that open doorway up front? It goes to the auto shop. The salon rents from me and we use the area over there as our waiting room. Bonus: get your hair cut while you wait. Not like you need to.”
A polite smile freezes on his face. No surprise there. This is the guy who spent more than my old perms for a trim. He’s the very image of privileged and hasn’t changed one bit.
“Did you name the salon?” He points to the retro-lettered sign set against exposed brick.Jenny’s Auto + Twisted Scissors
“No, that’s all Annabelle. She runs the salon. I’m her favorite client.”
“I heard that!” Annabelle calls over from a salon station, clippers in hand. “Benny right here is my favorite. He tips in real dollars.”
I scoff and wave her off. “Feel free to wait here until you figure out your ride situation,” I tell Chase.
“What about my car? How long will it take to get fixed?”
“For the flat? Not long. But you hit a pothole, right?”
He sighs. “I heard a thunk when I went into the ditch. When I tried to back out, the sound it was making…I don’t know. Then the wheels were spinning in the wet grass. I couldn’t move.”
His cheeks redden. He doesn’t know cars. That’s fine. A lot of people don’t. “I’m not a mechanic, I just own the place, so we’ll get one of the crew on it. Benny!” I call over to one of the hair stations. “You only here for an oil change or are you getting that fuel pump finally taken care of?”
I’m aware of Chase watching me as this dialogue progresses. Suddenly, it’s all sorts of funny. After Benny promises he’s getting the fuel pump looked at after all, I turn back to Chase. “Your mother would be horrified at my life.”
Chase’s jaw slackens. He shakes his head. “Maybe not. She’s mellowed out quite a bit. After the grandkids.”
A little sting runs through me hearing about Chase’s kids. I wish I wasn’t curious, but I am. He has this entire life I know nothing about. Then again, I have my own life he can continue to be perplexed by.
“My son peed on her the first time she changed his diaper.”
I snort out a laugh. “No. What did she do?”
“‘Ahhhh!’” Chase mimics a squeal in a high-pitched voice, flailing his arms around.
“Sounds about right.” Chase’s mother is who tweed skirted suits were invented for. And those little crustless sandwiches served at tea parties. Chase and his brother were largely cared for by a nanny until the boys attended school full time, so it shocks me that his mother even offered to switch out a diaper. Maybe the womanhadchanged. “Well, I suppose it all worked out for the best.”
Too late I realize my blunder. What worked out, his marriage that ended?
He doesn’t say anything, so I leave our conversation hanging and dash into the adjoining auto repair to save face. And oh, I should see about Chase’s car.
“Who’s the hottie?” Kara asks the second I’m at the front desk.
