Page 4 of The Money Man
She rubbed her forehead, trying to imagine the lofty and gorgeous Mr. Killion parked at her Ikea desk with Sylvester and Audley looking on. She loved her new office furniture but it wouldn’t stack up to the kind of luxury a founding partner was accustomed to. Unfortunately, parts of her body that had nothing to do with her brain were tingling with anticipation at the thought of actually meeting with him face-to-face. It was insane to react so strongly to a bunch of photographs. And a deep baritone resonating through the phone.
“Would ten o’clock work for you?” Barbara nudged.
“Sure. Ten o’clock.” She was thinking of all the housecleaning she’d have to do before his arrival. Her clients did not come to her office; she went to theirs and picked up their paperwork.
“Is the address the one on the input form from the website?”
“Yes, that’s right.” She would have to borrow another card table from Natalie to have extra space to spread out the papers for Mr. Killion.
“Excellent. Mr. Killion will see you then. Thank you again for taking time out of your weekend.” And Barbara was gone.
Would Mr. Killion expect her to serve him lunch? Was he allergic to cats? Did she have extra vacuum bags so she could go over everything twice in her town house? She’d have to clean two floors since her office was located upstairs in what was intended to be a bedroom for a child or guests. That’s why she’d bought the two-bedroom model in the new development on the outskirts of Cofferwood.
She flung open the door of the restroom and marched back to the chair, determined not to let Killion’s looks or position intimidate her. “I apologize for making you wait, Natalie.”
The salon’s owner waved off the apology with a graceful gesture before she flipped the cape around Alice. “Your mouth was hanging open for a second there at the beginning of the call. Who was it? Or is it confidential?”
Alice squared her shoulders under the cape and glared at herself in the mirror as Natalie combed her long brown hair, carefully working out the tangles. “It was Derek Killion’s assistant.”
“How about another clue?” Natalie said, her huge blue eyes gleaming with amusement. The salon owner was a walking advertisement for her business with her short, layered hairdo that danced just this side of edgy. Natalie had sported hair down to her waist until a year ago. The day of her fortieth birthday, she had announced that she was too old for long hair and cut it all off, much to Alice’s shock. Although, honestly, Natalie looked amazing in the new style.
Alice sighed. “Remember the problem I had with your books?”
“The piddling little three-dollar thing that I don’t give a toot about?”
“Well, I give a toot because it’s not right.”
“I know, sweetie, and that’s why you’re such a great bookkeeper.” Natalie spread Alice’s hair over her shoulders. “Are you sure I can’t take a little more off and give it some layers? With your natural waves it would look stunning.”
“No, just neaten up the ends, please.” Alice had a strange relationship with her hair. It was almost like her mother’s: thick and glossy with a perfect ripple of waves that Alice did nothing to create. However, her mother’s hair was honey blonde with streaks of gold, while Alice’s was mousey brown. Of course.
Alice kept it long because she could braid it or pull it back in a ponytail to look professional. But at night, she slept with it loose and spread over her pillow, despite the tangles she had to unravel in the morning. That’s how the heroes in her beloved Regency romance novels arranged their heroines’ hair before they made love to them. Somehow having the hair of a Regency heroine made it seem easier to fantasize that something like that would happen to Alice.
Her dreams made up for her lack of luck in the real world of dating. Or maybe they contributed to it.
“Earth to Alice,” Natalie said, trimming just the tips of Alice’s long locks with an air of frustrated resignation. “Are you going to tell me who Derek Killion is? That’s a strong name, by the way. Sort of like one of your dukes.”
Alice threw the hair stylist an astonished glance. Natalie knew about Alice’s secret reading addiction, but it still seemed like she was peering into Alice’s mind. Of course, she did that a lot.
Their friendship began the day Natalie intervened in a particularly unpleasant encounter between Alice and her mother, Gabrielle, who also patronized the Mane Attraction. Gabrielle didn’t approve of Alice’s lack of interest in being fashionable, so her mother was pressuring her to cut her long hair into a more contemporary style. Natalie told Gabrielle in no uncertain terms that Alice’s hair was beautiful, the style suited her perfectly, and that Gabrielle should shut up and mind her own business.
Amazingly, Gabrielle had shut up.
When Alice had thanked the salon owner after her mother left, Natalie looked her in the eye. “You have to set firm boundaries with a person like Gabrielle. Otherwise they will destroy you.”
It turned out that Natalie spoke from hard-won experience and Alice had valued her advice ever since.
“Derek is far from a duke,” Alice said. “He’s a partner in a big-time consulting firm who’s going to help me figure out what’s wrong with your books. For free.”
Natalie’s well-groomed eyebrows rose in two graceful arches. “For free?”
Alice explained her impulsive submission to KRG’s Small Business Initiative. “He was in a big rush to get off the phone and I was sure he’d pawn me off on some staff member. Which would have been fine because they do all the actual work. But now he wants to come to my office at ten a.m. on Saturday.”
Natalie frowned. “You’re going to be alone in your house with a man you’ve never met before? I’m not sure I like that.”
“Too bad you’re so busy on Saturdays or I’d ask you to stop by to chaperone me,” Alice said with a grin. She would love to see Natalie’s face when she met the gorgeous Derek Killion. But she didn’t want to worry her friend. “Trust me, there’s nothing to be concerned about. Derek Killion wouldn’t give me the time of day if I hadn’t filled out that form.”
“I’m going to call you between clients on Saturday, though. If you don’t answer, I’ll send over Gino.” Gino was only male hairdresser at Natalie’s salon. He was also a gym rat with muscles that turned his black T-shirt and jeans into works of art. The ladies at the salon had nearly risen up in protest when he got engaged two months before.
