Chapter Fifteen

Maggie

The lady who does my hair, Tammy, is Jane’s best friend since middle school. They’ve known each other since elementary and Jane’s clearly pleased as can be that I’ve agreed to try something new.

It’s hard to argue with Jane. She’s kind and only wants what’s best for me, so if she wants to see my true color, I suppose I can do that for her. Fortunately, she rarely asserts herself when it comes to my decisions.

So, when she told me she’d made an appointment for me with her stylist, I sort of threw up my hands and gave in, and here I am. In a chair at ZaZa’s Hair Salon. For the last fifteen minutes, I’ve listened to Tammy rail against her daughter’s volleyball coach.

My hair is layered with silver packets of foil. Tammy rinsed most of the black out, but my hair looked more brown than red. Jane acts like the color is some sort of miracle, begging to take pictures to send to Wes, but Tammy won’t let her. She wants Jane to wait till she’s gotten me all the way back to my actual hair color.

When my phone buzzes I take it out of my jeans pocket, wondering who could be texting me. Kyle’s gone skiing with his parents. The only other person who contacts me is Jane, so I have to think it’s a wrong number.

Where are you?

Who is this? I type back.

Trig. Answer the question.

Trig? Is texting me? We’ve never texted or even spoken on the phone. I don’t understand why he’s texting me now. Funny how even his texts are bossy.

I’m at a biker bar.

I suppress a smile and wait for a reply.

Called Za-Za’s? Bullshit.

I’d forgotten he had the tracker app on my phone. That seemed weirdly good. Like he’d always be able to find me. I can’t resist giving him a bad time. I text him back.

Having a cold one w my new friend Snake.

Really…

Weird name huh? He’s frkng huge.

Talking to strangers?

Before I can respond, he sends another text.

Tell Snake I’ll kick his ass if he touches you.

I doubt he thinks I’m at a biker bar, but his response startles me. Tammy’s talking to Jane. I type a quick message.

Jealous?

But I don’t send it. Instead I just look at the word and slowly delete it. I can’t bear to put that idea out there. Ever since New Year’s, Trig’s acted strangely. When he comes for dinner, he ignores me more forcibly than he has in the past. He barely speaks to me, but every so often I’ll catch him watching. Every time, he holds the gaze longer than I can.

So why would he be looking for me in the middle of the day?

The salon door opens and I hear footsteps. Boots. My pulse quickens.

“Can I help you, sir?” the receptionist asks.

“No, thank you.”

Jane yelps and gives me a puzzled look. “Shoot, I wanted to surprise him.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I can’t say if I like the idea of him seeing me like this or not. What bothers me most is how my insides twist with some strange awareness and excitement. Trig is a pain. Annoying and condescending. Yet, seeing him always makes a thrill shoots across my senses.

He steps into Tammy’s booth, his reflection appearing in the mirror before me.

“Morning, Jane. Tammy.”

He doesn’t greet me, but gives me a quick nod. A smile tugs at his lips as his gaze lingers for a long moment. Tammy’s about half done putting my hair in foil. It takes time. She smears stuff onto a foil square and wraps a small section of my hair. I’ve been here almost half an hour and she’s just starting on the back. This would have gone faster if she and Jane hadn’t been talking and laughing so much.

“Hey Trig,” Jane chirps. “Fancy seeing you here. Maggie’s getting a makeover.”

He lifts a brow and his smile turns into a smirk. Shoving his hands into his jacket, he leans against the doorway, like he’s going to stay a while and watch the show.

“How are you doing, handsome?” Tammy asks.

She smiles at him in a way that I don’t like and I wonder how well she knows Trig. She’s divorced and if she’s Jane’s age, she’d be in her early thirties. Did the two of them ever have some sort of thing going on? Gritting my teeth, I wait to hear why the hell he’s shown up at the salon.

“You here to get a makeover too?” I inject a little extra sass to my question.

“Ooh, honey, I’d love to get my hands on you,” Tammy coos as she wraps a strand of my hair in the crackly foil.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. She might be openly flirting with Trig, but he doesn’t pay her any attention.

He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on me. A gleam of warning flickers. Even though he’s still smiling, I get the message loud and clear. But what’s he going to say to me giving him a bad time? We’re sitting in the middle of a lady’s hair salon. He’s not going to give me shit here in front of every one.

“I need someone to answer my phone,” he says, his smile fading.

His grey eyes hold mine and the sounds of the busy salon fade, making me feel like it’s just the two of us. I wait for him to say more but he just stands there. Quiet. His hair is mussed but he’s clean-shaven, making me wonder why he’d gone through the trouble. During the work week, he’s always scruffy looking. Not that I’m complaining. I like both versions of Trig. A lot.

Jane, the ever-helpful, responds just a little too quickly. “Maggie could do that.”

Blinking rapidly, her lips part like she’s about to say more, but thinking better of it, she snaps them shut.

This, right here, is a set up. Completely. The tension in Trig’s jaw tells me he doesn’t want me working in his garage but he’s offering anyway and Jane’s fidgeting. The way her hands flutter, I can tell she’s either behind this or knew about it all along.

“I’ll come answer the phone for you, Trig. I’d work for you any day.” Tammy winks at his reflection in the mirror.

Trig glances at Jane. Inwardly I smile because he’s just confirmed my suspicions about them collaborating on a job for me. I know Jane so well, I don’t even have to look at her to know she’s just shrugged and widened her eyes in bewilderment.

“You like answering the phone, Tammy?” I ask. “Think you want to give up your job as a stylist to work in a smelly garage?”

Trig frowns at my choice of words.

“If I had a boss like Trig, I would.” Her tone is playful, lighthearted and she winks at me.

Trig draws a pained sigh and growls softly as he glances at me. “I’m sure you’d be great, Tammy, but I’d imagined Maggie in this particular… position.”

He coughs and turns away to clear his throat. When he turns back, his face is flushed.

Weird. I’ve never seen him flustered and wonder what’s gotten into him. I can’t imagine working for Trig and I’m pretty sure I’d hate being bossed around by him. He already tells me what to do every time I turn around. Okay, slight exaggeration, but he likes to give orders and if he were paying me, I’d have no recourse.

“All you need to do is answer the phone and schedule jobs,” he says. “You can study or read or whatever. It’s not hard.”

He coughs again, making me wonder what his deal is. It’s not hard. Well, thanks a bunch. I want to tell him to shove off, but I need the money. Hendricks told Wes and Jane he can get me into a program that will pay for tuition, some Lion’s Club grant for at-risk youth, but there are a lot of other expenses of going to school, like gas money and parking and books and all sorts of fees. The at-risk youth grant bugs me a little… I had no idea I was at-risk, but I need the money so I don’t dwell on it.

There was a time when I would have told them all to fuck off, but I’m not going to argue. No way can I get a loan in two weeks’ time. I either accept the help from them or take it from Jane and Wes. While the grant’s a huge help, I still need to get books and gas money and who knows what else.

“I’ll take it,” I tell him.

Jane gasps, Trig’s eyes widen and even Tammy looks surprised.

“It’s just for a few weeks, Maggie,” he says. “Starting as soon as you can.”

“That’s fine.” My heartbeat stutters. I’m going to see him every day, not just a few times a week at a noisy dinner table. He’s trying to help me. I lead my life, trying to make something with what I’ve got and he’s watching. Noticing.

“Thank you, Trig,” I say softly.

“All right then.” He was prepared for an argument, I suppose and now that I’ve agreed, he stands there awkwardly. He nods at Jane and Tammy and me. “I’ll get back to work.”

He turns and his heavy footfalls fade. Several of the stylists tell him good-bye and the receptionist suggests he come back soon. And then he’s gone.