But what if there are some people you can’t help but want to be there for, even if you know you’re only going to get hurt in the end?
***
It’s just after seven when my last client leaves and I lock the salon door behind her. All my employees left hours ago, but now that my workday is over, I can get a few business things done without any distractions or people in the way. So, color me surprised when I get a text from Fletcher while sitting at my desk in my office.
Fletcher:Laney, open up.
Me:I’m not at home.
Fletcher:I know. I’m at the salon.
Confused, I head to the front door and see Fletcher standing there, craning his neck back and forth as if it’s bothering him.
“What are you doing here, Fletcher?” I ask curiously, cracking the door just enough to talk through it.
“Can I come in?”
“Um, we’re closed.”
“Come on. It’s me, Laney.”
I momentarily contemplate standing firm in my need to put a bit of distance between us, but when I take in his appearance, I decide against it.
Fletcher looks agitated and almost defeated. He has bags under his eyes, and his hair is a mess, probably from running his hands through it.
Sighing, I relent to that part of me that will always hold a soft spot for him. “Fine, but I’m working.”
“Alone?” he asks as he steps through the door and I lock it again behind him. The blinds are closed, so the salon is much darker than it usually is, emphasizing the shadows on his face.
“Yes. I had a late client, and now I’m just trying to take care of some paperwork.”
“Need any help?”
I arch a brow at him. “Are you bored or something?”
“Kinda,” he says through a laugh, but then his smile transforms into a frown. “Honestly, I just needed to get out of my cabin.”
“Okay, well, feel free to hang out, I guess…”
“Thanks.”
Fletcher moves further into the salon, scouring the shelves of products that are stationed in the waiting area. “So, how was your day?” he asks before I can head back to my office.
I spin to face him, less eager to return to my work than I was before. “It was good. Long, but I did get the food ordered for the party.” Momentarily, I debate telling him about my run-in with his father, but I decide against it, given his mood. “I also commissioned Dilynne to help us with games. Not so sure that was a good idea.”
Fletcher nods as he continues to look through the shelves. “Nice. I made some calls for the decorations and such. Everything is set to be delivered to the winery Saturday morning.”
“Great.”
“I had lunch with your brother today too.”
My shoulders instantly tense up. “Okay…”
Fletcher turns his head so our eyes meet. “Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything about us, obviously.”
“I didn’t think you would. That would be asking for him to pull his gun on you.”
Fletcher laughs. “I honestly don’t think he would have believed me even if I did tell him.”