I choose my words carefully. “When it comes out, you can tell anyone who says a cross word to her or about her that they’ll answer to me.”
“So that’s how it is?” Julianne drawls.
“That’s how it is.”
“Ain’t that an interesting piece of information? So it’s serious between you two?”
I give her a hard look as I remember the blowout Banner and I had this morning. “That’s not up for discussion.”
“But you know this whole town is gonna speculate on it anyway.”
“They can go ahead and speculate all they want. I don’t care. But if anyone says—”
Julianne finishes my sentence. “One cross word to this mystery woman, you’re going to be knocking it back down their throats.” She tilts her head to the side. “You know that’s not gonna stop it.”
“It should help.”
Julianne laughs and turns for the door. “I guess we’ll see.” She pauses at the threshold that leads from the garage into the waiting room. “By the way, you need a haircut. I can fit you in tonight after I close up, if you’re still here.”
I nod. “I’ll let you know. Thanks.”
I pull out my cell phone as soon as she’s out the door to call Holly. I get her voice mail, so I leave her a message. Here’s hoping she and her husband—who isn’t my biggest fan, for the record—thinks this whole mess is funny.
* * *
Three hours later, I’m about to lock the doors of my shop so I can get some work done. I’ve had more casual visitors wanting to make appointments and shoot the shit than I can count on one hand. They’re all not-so-subtly probing for information.
“So, you’ve got a friend in town?”
“I hear you’re keeping some late hours.”
I still haven’t heard back from Holly, and I’ve stopped myself from texting Banner all day. I was a dick this morning, and I know it. But realizing how badly I fucked up by leaving my truck parked out front all night set me off.
In a small town, you’ve got one chance to make a first impression. I know how hard it is to change that impression, and what people are gonna be saying about Banner pisses me off already. The double standard is alive and well, and even more pronounced here. She’ll be branded a slut before she even steps foot out of the house, and it’s all my fucking fault. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I need to apologize, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to get within firing range of her.
I finally give in to the urge and pick up my phone to text her.
LOGAN: I’m sorry about this morning. I’d like to deliver the apology and explanation in person.
Chapter 27
Banner
Whoever perpetuated the Hollywood ideal that small towns are friendly and welcoming is full of shit.
Everywhere I’ve gone today, which isn’t many places because there aren’t many to go, has been filled with people looking at me like I’m some kind of hooker. And that’s without wearing anything flashy or scandalous. Skinny jeans, heeled boots, and a long pale blue sweater make up my outfit, but the women in this town are eyeing me like I’m walking around in stripper heels and a G-string.
I’m in the grocery store, searching the shelves high and low for organic, non-GMO steel-cut oats, when I finally overhear some of the snide comments that I’m sure have been making the rounds all morning.
“I heard she lured Logan Brantley there by saying it was Holly Wix, and we all know that he’s had a thing for Holly forever.”
“Oh, I bet you’re right, Tricia. Otherwise, he would’ve already put a ring on Emmy Harris’s finger. How long can Logan possibly carry a torch for Holly? She’s married to that billionaire guy now.”
A third voice joins the conversation. “There’s no way he’s carrying a torch for Holly still if he’s banging some New York skank friend of hers. Besides, I heard he told Julianne from Cut a Bitch that he’ll be handling it personally if he hears anyone say a cross word about this mystery woman.”
The first voice replies. “He can handle me personally anytime. I know my way around a man.”
“Hasn’t it been like ten years since you’ve had a real man in your bed? Leave it to someone who doesn’t need pruning shears to be ready for him.”