Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Em.”
“Really, I’m okay.” I laugh, ignoring the way my nose stings, just like it did when he made me a coffee without me asking.
“I’ll feed you tonight.” He sighs.
“Where are we going?” I glance over at him as I start to wash Winter’s hair. Surprisingly, I don’t feel anxious about our impending date. Maybe because I know him and have spent so much time with him. That’s not to say I’m not nervous; I am, but that nervousness has more to do with us being alone and what it might mean if tonight goes well—or even if it sucks.
“The Standard.”
“I’ve never heard of it.” I wring out Winter’s hair, then pump some conditioner into my hands.
“You’ll like it.”
“Have you been there?” I glance over at him again as he leans his shoulder against the wall next to me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“A couple of times. It’s one of the few places you can get a good steak in Nashville.”
I want to ask if he’s taken other women there, but I know that question would sound ridiculous. Heck, even thinking it makes me feel weird.
I finish rinsing Winter’s hair, then wrap it in a towel and help her down, listening to her giggle when the towel slips off her head.
“So, what are we doing, Dad? Just a trim?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he says, but Winter shakes her head and looks up at me.
“I want my hair like this.” She takes her hair at each side of her face and lifts it so it looks like a bob. And seeing the look she is going for in my head, I know without a doubt the cut would look adorable on her.
“Win, you can’t cut all your hair off,” Miles tells her, and she looks over at him.
“But Tapia cut her hair like that.”
“I get that, but that’s something you’re going to have to talk to your mom about.”
“Why? It’s not her hair.” She crosses her arms over her chest and sits back with a huff.
“Honey,” I say softly, turning her toward the mirror. She stops glaring at her dad and looks at me. “How about we cut your bangs so you can see and trim your hair today? Then, when your mom comes to visit, you can talk to her. If she says it’s okay, you can come back, and I’ll cut your hair again.”
“Fine.” She pouts, and I try—really try—not to smile, but she is cute when she’s mad.
With not a lot of time to spare, I comb her long hair out and quickly trim her ends and her bangs, then blow-dry it. As I start to curl it, hoping that it will cheer her up, Miranda comes back from her break with two coffees in hand.
“If I knew you were going to be here, I would’ve brought you one,” she tells Miles, accepting a kiss on her cheek from him before depositing a large iced coffee on my station.
“Win wanted to see Em, and she needed a haircut,” he informs her.
“It looks great.” She smiles at Winter through the mirror.
“I wanted it shorter.” She pouts.
“Oh.” Miranda glances between Miles and me, and I shake my head in a silent “don’t go there.” “Are you excited to hang out with Kingston tonight?” she changes the subject.
“Yes.” Her mood instantly lightens, and the first smile I’ve seen since she expressed how upset she is about not being able to cut her hair lights up her face.
“I think we’re going to make homemade pizza and watch Inside Out.”
“Can I have pineapple and ham on mine?”
“Of course.” Miranda smiles at her, then looks to the door when it dings. I do the same and see it’s my last client of the day. While Sammy gets her settled on the couch at the front with a bottle of water I finish up with Winter’s hair and quietly talk with Miranda and Miles. When I’m done, I remove her cape and lean over the back of my chair, wrapping my arms around her in a hug from behind.
“What do you think?”
“I like it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Her smile is small, so I know it’s a lie. I also know it’s not personal, she probably had it in her head that she’d be leaving with the cut she actually wanted and not the one she was given.
“Good,” I say quietly, kissing her cheek before turning the chair toward me and helping her down.
“How much do I owe you?” Miles asks while Winter goes over to talk to Miranda.
“Nothing.”
“Em—”
“Am I meeting you at the restaurant or at your place?” I cut him off.
“I’m picking you up.”
“I can meet you.”
“You could, but I’m picking you up. Our reservation is for six. Does that give you enough time?”
“Plenty. I only have one more client today. I should only be here for another couple of hours.”