Page 29 of Heartbeats & Highways

Homer turned his gaze toward his brother and gave him a glare.

Roman chuckled.

“You ready?” Homer asked, focusing his attention on Savage.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Savage stepped away from me, leaving me cold and unsure. “I’ll be in the back.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

I watched Savage disappear down the hallway with Homer, leaving me alone with Roman.

“So, the job’s pretty easy,” he began. He waved me toward the reception counter. “My sister, Brielle, has been filling in for us. She’ll be in when we open to show you the appointment scheduling system. There’s a mini fridge behind the counter with sodas and we keep snacks in the back.”

Roman looked at me and frowned. “You okay?”

“Don’t you want—I mean, isn’t this an interview?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s an interview.”

“But you’re talking like I have the job already.”

“You’re friends with Savage, yeah?”

I wouldn’t call us friends. Friends didn’t share steamy kisses in kitchens. Friends didn’t fall asleep in each other’s arms. I wasn’t surewhatto call us, but Roman was waiting on an answer.

“Yeah, we’re friends,” I said finally.

“He vouched for you. You need a job, and we need a receptionist.”

“But your sister . . .”

“Has a job decorating wedding cakes. Her business partner is still on maternity leave, but Brielle is itching to get back to the bakery. So, we need a new receptionist as soon as possible. Job’s yours if you want it.”

“I want it,” I blurted out. “I’ll be a good receptionist, I promise.”

Roman smiled and the terror I’d felt melted away as I smiled back at him.

“Is there a dress code?” I asked, glancing down at what I was wearing.

“You’re dressed fine,” Roman assured me. “We’re a family run business; we don’t do anything formal. We’re open Wednesday to Sunday, noon to six. Sometimes we’ll book an appointment during off-business hours, but Brielle will give you the rundown on that. Sound okay?”

“It sounds great.”

Roman’s cell rang and he fished it out of his back pocket. He looked at the screen. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

I nodded.

He pressed a button and put the phone to his ear. “Hey.” He wandered toward the hallway and disappeared. I heard a door shut and then the muted sound of his voice.

I went to the leather couch and took a seat. I was flipping through a motorcycle magazine when the front door opened.

A redhead carrying a bakery box blew into the tattoo parlor. She hoisted her bag onto the counter and set the box down. Her keys and phone followed, hitting the glass counter with athunk.

She let out a labored sigh, her head swiveling to take in the room. She paused when she saw me.

“Hey,” she said with a wide smile as she approached me. “You must be Evie.”

I nodded.

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