Allison met his eyes and nodded. “I’ll tell him,” she promised.

Eleven

The day before Easter was always a busy time at Get Nailed. A lot of their clients attended church and wanted to look their best. She knew it was an important religious feast day, but Teri wasn’t much interested in church. It wasn’t how she’d been raised. Her mama was a single mother with three kids, struggling to make ends meet. She could barely keep them fed and clothed, let alone teach them about church. Teri, the eldest, had dropped out of high school at sixteen to attend beauty school and had her license the day she turned eighteen.

She was good at her job, but it wasn’t the career she really wanted. Teri would’ve liked to spend her time around books. Be a librarian or even work in a bookstore or something like that. She was constantly reading. Her house had stacks of paperbacks in every room—romances and mysteries and biographies. Any title that caught her eye. Most of her extra cash went to books. With her lack of a social life outside the salon, they were great company.

Being a stylist suited her well enough, and it paid the bills. Fortunately, she was talented and kept up with current styles; she also had a decent clientele. Her first customer of the day was Justine Gunderson, who came in for a trim.

“I heard about what you did,” Justine teased her as she sat in Teri’s chair. Word had spread throughout the community. People talked, of course, and she’d been questioned again and again about meeting Bobby Polgar.

Teri studied Justine’s thick, straight hair, which hung down her back—the kind of hair they had in shampoo advertisements, healthy and shiny. Teri’s own had been dyed, cut and permed so often she’d forgotten the original color. Dishwater blond, she guessed. At the moment it was dyed brown with red highlights, and she wore it ultra-short and spiked with gel. She was thinking of dyeing it black next week when there was a lull in the schedule. She’d see if she could get Jane to do it for her.

“I’m impressed,” Justine said. “You cut Bobby Polgar’s hair.”

People still talked about how she’d appeared at the televised chess match and bullied her way in to see the world-famous chess player. For pride’s sake, she’d made it seem easy; in truth it’d taken a lot of effort.

Her arrival had caused a scene with those unpleasant security people. When they found her scissors, the guards acted as though she was some dangerous lunatic. She’d made such a fuss that Bobby himself had come out to see what she wanted, which was the only reason she’d even had a chance. He’d listened to her assessment that he needed a haircut and agreed to let her do it.

With several bodyguard types following, she’d been escorted in to Bobby Polgar’s suite. When she entered, all kinds of people were milling about, giving him advice and making suggestions about the next chess match with the Russian. The moment Teri stepped into the fray, Bobby had lifted his hand and the room went silent. He’d stared at her, so she stared back. She’d told him to sit down, draped a towel over his shoulders and retrieved her scissors from one of the security people.

“Like I said, your hair is what’s distracting you,” Teri had told him. “You don’t need other people’s advice. You know what you’re doing better than anyone.” In retrospect, it was a bold statement and Teri couldn’t quite understand why she even cared about this man and his silly chess match. All she knew was that she had this compelling urge to go to him and cut his hair. Go figure. She was the impulsive type and…well, it’d worked. Didn’t matter if she couldn’t explain it.

Most everyone wanted to know what Bobby had said to her. This was the confusing part. A few minutes after she showed up, Bobby had asked everyone else to leave, and then it was just the two of them. She wished she had some fantastic story to tell, but she didn’t. She’d simply cut his hair and left. The entire time she was in that room, he probably didn’t say a dozen words to her. Not until she was back in Cedar Cove did she learn that he’d won the next match and the one after that.

“Have you heard from him since?” Justine asked.

Teri arranged the cape over Justine’s shoulders and fastened it. “Me? Nah. I didn’t even tell him my name.”

“He didn’t talk to you?”

“Not really. Nothing I’d consider a conversation, anyway.” In fact, Bobby Polgar hadn’t even bothered to pay her, which was a damn shame since she’d had to borrow twenty bucks to get to Seattle. But then, to be fair, Teri hadn’t asked for payment.

“What’s Bobby like?”

Teri held up a comb as she thought about Justine’s question. All week people had been asking her that and she was never sure what to tell them. “It’s hard to say, seeing he wasn’t all that communicative. He’s intense and…” She wanted to say “peculiar” but that didn’t seem quite right. “Strange,” she finished. “He’s just strange.”

“They say he’s one of the greatest chess minds of our time.”

“He is the greatest chess mind of our time,” Teri corrected. That much she’d garnered from Bobby himself, not to mention his handlers.

“So you’re a fan?”

“Not of Bobby, and not of chess, either. They don’t teach you much about the theory of chess in beauty school, you know?”

“So what interested you in Bobby?” Justine asked as they walked to the shampoo bowl.

“I don’t know,” Teri said slowly. “I saw him on television one morning and thought he was interesting looking. Then he lost that chess match. I knew what was wrong and that I could help him. I do stuff like that. People need something, and I do what I can. My mother’s the same way, God bless her.” Her mother also had a tendency to fall for the wrong guys, another trait Teri was afraid she’d inherited. At least Teri didn’t see any reason to marry them. She’d been through three or four rocky relationships, none of which had lasted more than six months. They’d all ended with her wanting to kick herself for being so stupid. Teri liked to think of herself as savvy and smart; life, however, had a way of proving her wrong.

Teri lowered Justine’s head into the shampoo bowl. Their eyes met, and Teri offered her a quick smile as she turned on the water.


“Thanks, Teri,” Justine said, suddenly intent.

“For what?”

“For not asking about the fire. That’s all anyone ever talks about. I haven’t gone out of the house in weeks, except when it’s absolutely necessary, because every time I do, people bombard me with questions.”

The truth was, Teri had forgotten about the fire. With her own small world spinning around her brief moment of notoriety, the destruction of The Lighthouse had slipped her mind.

“You okay?” Teri asked. One look at Justine said she wasn’t.

Justine didn’t seem to hear and closed her eyes. Teri had discovered that there was something about working on women’s hair that had a relaxing effect on them and led to confidences and disclosures they might make at no other time. Barriers were lowered, and they discussed their lives and problems with surprising openness. Teri was convinced it had to do with her being admitted to their personal space, as well as her undivided focus and the soothing atmosphere at the salon. She sometimes said she should put out a shingle advertising that she did hair with free counseling on the side. She certainly had enough experience to know what not to do when it came to unhealthy relationships.

“Seth and I are having a few problems,” Justine confessed, sounding sad and lost. Her voice was so low Teri had to strain to hear. “We’ll be all right…. It’s just that things are difficult now.”

“Which they’re bound to be after something this upsetting,” Teri reassured her. Again, their eyes met.

“We haven’t made love in weeks,” Justine whispered. “Not since the fire. Seth is so angry. He doesn’t know how to deal with this.” She closed her eyes again, and Teri gently squeezed her shoulder.

“Don’t you worry,” Teri said. “Everything will work out, you wait and see.” She didn’t mean to serve up platitudes; every word was sincere. Teri had seen it happen over and over. Some trauma would upset a family and it was the marriage that took the brunt of that strain—but if the relationship was strong, husband and wife could survive it together.

“How long have I been cutting your hair?” Teri asked. It wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“I don’t know,” Justine replied. “Six or seven years for sure.”

“That’s what I thought. I remember when you were dating Warren Saget. I never did understand what you saw in that geezer, but who you decided to date was your business. Then Seth came along and—oh, my goodness—you were dumbstruck. I ran into you down by the waterfront one Saturday, and I saw the way you looked at each other. You two were crazy in love, no mistake about that.”

Justine’s eyes stayed closed as Teri washed her hair, but she smiled. “I remember those days, too. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

Teri grinned. “You pretended Seth meant nothing to you. I made the mistake of mentioning his name one time, and you nearly bit my head off.”

“I most certainly did not,” Justine protested.

“Did, too,” Teri retorted, working the shampoo into the long, thick hair. “I’ll bet Seth still looks at you the same way he did back then. There’s no denying that man loves you and you love him. Just hang in there, okay?”

Justine opened her eyes and blinked up at her. “I hope you’re right.”

Denise, the part-time receptionist, approached Teri as she finished the shampoo. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said.

Teri wrapped the towel around Justine’s head. “Did you get a name?”

“He wouldn’t give me one.”

“He?” Joan, Jane and the other girls all stopped what they were doing and stared at her.

“Go check it out,” Rachel suggested from where she sat doing the mayor’s wife’s nails.

Teri led Justine to her station and dried her hands. “I’ll be right back,” she promised.

A tall, extremely thin man hovered just inside the salon. He glanced nervously around, as though afraid one of the stylists would tackle him, tie him up and dye his hair pink.

“I’m Teri Miller,” she said, hand on her hip. She wasn’t buying anything and she didn’t have time for chitchat, either.

“Bobby Polgar would like to speak with you,” he announced, clearly expecting her to drop everything immediately. “He’s in the car outside.”

“Oh.” Her first reaction was astonishment.

“Miss Miller,” the thin man added, “Mr. Polgar doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Is that right?” Teri muttered, frowning at him. She remembered now that she’d seen this guy at the chess match with Bobby and had assumed he was either a friend or employee. “Well, it so happens I’m busy, and I’m going to be busy all day. Kindly tell Mr. Polgar that if he wants to see me, he should make an appointment like everyone else.”



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