Page 199 of New Growth
“You!” she said, already nodding like it was decided. “It’s your collection. Your concept. Your damn salon. Nobody sells your vision like you do.”
“Esther—”
“Ellie.”
I gave her a look. She gave it right back.
I sighed in defeat before finally confessing. “Es, I don’t know if I could pull it off. I don’t feel like…that girl.”
“E,” she said, eyes narrowing like I’d just offended her. “You’reliterallyglowing.”
I exhaled. “You’re being dramatic.”
“And you’re being modest. It’s annoying.”
I frowned. “I’m not a model.”
“You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful, you know your references, and you’ve got presence. Plus, you modeling your own work shows confidence. People are gonna eat that up.”
I tilted my head, pretending to consider it, then cracked a small grin. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll model.”
Esther smirked. “Good. Now go put that ring back in the sun. I want to burn a hole in my memory.”
I smiled at her while letting my mind wonder. While my engagement was beautiful and El was at the forefront of my mind, now it was back to business. There was too much riding on this event, and I couldn’t afford any distractions. No room for anymore surprises.
The front doors of the salon swung open. I turned instinctively toward the sound, my eyes narrowing on the woman who stepped in.
She looked to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Tall, polished, and dressed like every inch of her outfit had been planned to say she wasn’t here to play.A camel trench coat over a soft ivory blouse, slim trousers, expensive heels, and not a hair out of place. Her curls were brushed smooth, lips lined in a perfect mauve. Her expression? Blank—but her eyes had purpose.
“Which one of you is Elliot Sawyer?”
I froze with Esther straightening next to me.
I took a small step forward. “Can I help you?”
The woman raised a brow. “My name is Samantha Greene. I’m Elliot’s ex-wife.”
“Oop.” Esther mumbled.
Chelsea spun in her chair so fast the wheels squeaked.
Samantha’s eyes locked on mine. “AreyouElliot?”
I sighed, my shoulders heavy now. “Yes. That’s me. Can I help you with something?”
Samantha walked forward with the kind of grace that only came from being used to controlling a room. “I want to talk to you.”
Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous. The confidence I had in El wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I found myself wondering what she did for work. El never talked about her so she was a complete mystery to me.
Esther didn’t budge. “You’re not about to start no mess in here, are you?”
Samantha smiled, coldly. “Oh no. I’m not here to make a scene.”
But something about her tone hinted that she absolutely could if she wanted to.
Samantha’s eyes scanned the salon, lingering on every detail like she was storing it all away. “Nice place.”
“Thanks,” I said, calm but guarded. “You want a wash and style while we chat?”
