LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

down Heartache’s main thoroughfare with her hood up to protect her from the wind, Gabriella double-checked the text from her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Heather Finley. Normally, Gabriella wasn’t the girly-girl type who spent time at spas or invested her small earnings on expensive salon highlights. But the invitation had been sent to all the local women who would either be testifying against Jeremy Covington or who had given statements to support the district attorney’s case against him.

      The intent of the Salon Night was plain. An evening of rah-rah sisterhood to boost each other up before they had to sit across a courtroom from the man who’d hurt them. As much as she wasn’t the spa type, Gabriella knew she couldn’t refuse. Because even though a manicure and pedicure wouldn’t make her feel any better about facing Covington tomorrow, her presence might help someone else rest easier tonight. If it made Heather feel better—or any of the other girls that sick ass had hurt—then Gabriella wanted to be there. She carried a bottle of red wine under her arm as she passed Last Chance Vintage and found The Strand. Warm light from inside the salon poured out through the windows onto Main Street since it was the only business open at this hour except for the Hasting family’s pizza parlor farther down on the corner.

      Hesitating outside the door, Gabriella could hear the eighties pop music playing inside, two of the women dancing around a dryer chair as they sang into hair brushes. The image tugged a reluctant smile from her. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a hardship to have her nails painted. She couldn’t deny a small thrill at the idea of looking her best tomorrow when she hopped on the back of Clayton’s motorcycle. And yes, that made her feel like a giddy teenager again.

      She hauled open the door before she could change her mind, the electric guitar music spilling out along with laughter and the scent of hair chemicals and nail polish remover.

      â€œGabby!” The slender woman standing closest to the door greeted her with a warm smile.

      â€œAmy.” Gabriella opened her arms to the youngest of the Finley family, a woman who’d been absent from Heartache for as long as Gabriella herself.

      Amy had been dating Sam Reyes, Zach’s best friend, the summer that Gabriella had been assaulted. Sam felt forced to leave town—and Amy—without explanation, and Gabriella had always felt guilty about that, especially during the years when she’d convinced herself she had a crush on Sam.

      Sam had been safe to crush on at a time when she’d been so mixed-up about men and sex. Gabriella had known she was safe with him and he’d never returned her affections. But Amy and Sam were back together now, and Amy didn’t seem to hold it against her that she’d dragged her boyfriend to the West Coast with her.

      â€œI’m so glad you’re here,” Amy whispered fervently in her ear as she returned the hug. “Everyone else is talking about sulfate-free hair conditioners and nail art, and it’s like Greek to me. Nail art?” Leaning back, Amy shrugged her narrow shoulders, her all-black jeans and sweater broken up by a light green scarf that set off her auburn hair and green eyes. “It took me two whole minutes to realize they weren’t talking about something you make with an air nail compressor.”

      Gabriella laughed, welcoming the levity. The Finley family owned a building supply store in town, and Amy was embroiled in a renovation project that involved turning a hunting cabin into a beautiful, two-story home. The woman had studied to be an accountant, but her do-it-yourself knowledge was off the charts. She could hang her own Sheetrock and install a toilet, for crying out loud.

      â€œMy makeup routine revolves around petroleum jelly for my lips and pinching my cheeks to put color in them.” Setting down the bottle of wine she’d brought on the reception desk, Gabriella watched as the hairbrush-singing duo ended their tune and sank into chairs across from one another, a blue light aimed at their toes. The pair was clearly younger—high school or college age. “Who are the teenagers?”

      â€œMegan Bryer and Bailey McCord.” Amy lowered her voice, pointing first to the brunette dressed in a flannel shirt and skin-tight jeggings, then at her blonde friend with a purple butterfly T-shirt. “I only know that because Heather was held against her will the same time as Megan. And Bailey’s mom had the affair with Covington and then—when he cheated on her, too—convinced Covington’s wife to turn over the family computers that are going to be the man’s total undoing.” Shaking her head, Amy gave a wry grin. “But I don’t normally keep up with the soap operas, so that’s the extent of my information.”

      â€œI’m impressed.” Gabriella knew of both girls in a peripheral way, having kept up with the case as Sam tracked the man who assaulted her. But she hadn’t spent much time in Heartache, so the faces weren’t familiar. “You may not know your sulfates, but I’m coming to you for all my gossip. Can you tell me anything about the town break-ins I’ve been hearing about?” She was only half kidding. It unsettled her to think of more crime in her small hometown. Especially while she was staying here.

      But before Amy could answer, someone turned down the music.

      â€œLadies!” A tall beauty with caramel-colored hair hurried over, carrying a basket of bakery treats. “No lurking in corners! I’m having a mixer over at the nail polish bar and I’m luring you there with cupcakes.” She waved the basket under their noses, showing off gorgeous confections with frosting in every imaginable shade. “Gabriella, I’m Nina Spencer, Mack Finley’s significant other.”

      Again, Gabriella knew that and remembered her vaguely from high school, but she appreciated the reminder of where she fit into the Finley family. The town’s former Mayor Finley had two sons—Mack and Scott—and three daughters, Erin, Heather and Amy, making a big crew to keep track of. Plus, they all had spouses or significant others, and Scott and his wife, Bethany, had a daughter who would be in college by now.

      â€œNina, you were on the varsity soccer team when I played as a freshman and I thought you were the coolest girl in school.” Gabriella grinned as she chose a yellow cupcake with pink frosting. “And since you went on to own a restaurant and bake things like this, I obviously knew the right kind of woman to idolize.”

      â€œHa!” Nina gave her a one-armed hug. “Aren’t you sweet? You need to move back to Heartache. But for now, will you convince Amy to choose a nail polish color for toes that have never been touched by paint?”

      â€œI’ll have you know I bought a bottle of ice-blue polish and put it on my toes once. It made me look like a corpse.” Amy grabbed a chocolate-on-chocolate cupcake. “But I will choose something because I am a team player and I’m here to be beautiful.”

      â€œThat’s the spirit.” Nina moved on to introduce a few newcomers, letting her basket lead the way, its pink gingham ribbons flapping in her wake.

      Together, Amy and Gabriella headed toward the wall of nail polish colors where an older woman held court from a black leather chair, a little Pekingese dog at her feet in a leopard-print carrier.

      â€œYou look like you’re in need of a primer for this,” Amy observed, nudging Gabriella after they’d taken just a few steps. “Do you remember this group?”

      â€œThat’s Mrs. Spencer, right? Nina’s grandmother?” She nodded in the direction of the Pekingese owner. The woman was famous for her jellies and pies. No doubt that was where her granddaughter got her skill with cupcakes, which were the best thing Gabriella had ever tasted.

      â€œDaisy Spencer.” Amy nodded, confirming her guess. “And you know Erin and Heather, my sisters? Well, duh. Of course you know Heather since she’s been engaged to your brother for a week.”

      â€œThat’s Erin?” Gabriella would have never guessed, but then she recalled both Erin and Heather having long red curls like a pre-Raphaelite painting. Heather had kept hers, but Erin had a sleek copper-colored style

Скачать книгу