This was the first time in her life she could recall wanting to impress someone. Looking down at her comfortable clothes, running her fingers through her short hair, she realized she wanted something different. She was ready to make another change.

  Picking up a pair of scissors, Elizabeth grasped the hair that remained after the cut on the subway. She would just even it up a bit. This would be perfect. She’d seen her mother do it tons of times on her nieces.

  Looking in the mirror, she knitted her eyebrows in fierce concentration. Only when she looked at her hair did she realize her mistake. Now she had not only the hole that was made yesterday, but an identical one that she’d made. What was she going to do now? She couldn’t go to the party like this!

  She couldn’t fix the problem. She would have to go to a hair stylist. She considered returning to the one Wesley had taken her to earlier in the week, but she didn’t have the heart to see that person again so soon. Then she had an idea. She called her pastor’s wife and asked for a recommendation. Grace had recommended Juan. No last name, just Juan.

  Elizabeth decided the safest way to get there, not be late, and not get mugged along the way, was to splurge on a cab. Elizabeth was worried about what Juan could accomplish. Using her tiny round, magnifying mirror, she looked at the back of her head where she’d whacked her hair. It didn’t look good. It was a miracle she hadn’t taken a portion of her neck as well. The pastor’s wife, Grace, assured Elizabeth that Juan was up to the challenge.

  When Elizabeth arrived at Juan’s, she was surprised to see it was just a small shop in the bottom of a hundred-year-old building. A little barber pole was outside the door and Elizabeth looked down at the piece of paper she held to confirm the cab driver had dropped her off at the correct address.

  When she walked into the door, she felt as if she had been transported into another world. She’d expected to see barber shop chairs with old-timey black-and-white photos on the walls, and perhaps an old man using a straight razor on a patrician’s face. Instead she saw walls that had been covered in green carpet. The chair was shaped like an old hollowed-out log, which still had the ability to swivel.

  The lights were covered with mirrors like you would imagine would be back stage for a superstar. On the radio that sat in the corner was the Ray Stevens song “When You Get a Haircut.” His voice was bellowing out the lyrics. Elizabeth was tempted to turn around. Maybe Ray was right, and she needed to go find her old stylist. No one seemed to be around the small shop. If she was going to escape detection, the time was now.

  A brief glance at the back wall showed a curtain parting. “Good afternoon. What can I do for you?”

  Elizabeth couldn’t speak. If this was Juan, she didn’t know if she could allow him to cut her hair. He had a look that reminded her of Edward Scissorhands but with the voice of Antonio Banderas. The only difference was his skin didn’t carry the pale look Johnny Depp had perfected in the Scissorhands movie, but rather the tanned glow of Captain Jack Sparrow.

  Finally Elizabeth got her tongue under control and answered, “Grace Morgan recommended I come to see you. I had a little, hmmm, incident on the subway.” After speaking she turned around and showed him the back of her head. He gasped in feigned horror. He grabbed her upper arm and escorted her to one of the shampoo chairs.

  Juan lathered and scrubbed, rubbing the shampoo into her head and making her whole body relax. It was the best shampoo she’d ever had. Right when Elizabeth thought she was going to die with pleasure he rinsed her, toweled her dry, and headed her to the green-carpeted barrel chair.

  Juan faced her away from the mirror and forced her to look him directly in the eye as he squatted before her. He clicked his tongue and looked this way and that.

  He laid the comb beside her cheek and measured. All the time he was humming to himself. That Ray Steven’s song must have been on repeated loop because she could have sworn that she’d listened to it at least three times already.

  Leaning her back, Juan asked, “Do you wish to go short, or retain some of the length?”

  “You mean I have a choice? You can still help me keep it long?”

  “I believe with a little bit of creativity I might be able to hide that space in the back until it can grow, yes.”

  Elizabeth thought for a moment. What would her parents think? If she went all the way to her shoulders, would that be better or worse than if they saw she was hiding a short spot under the rest of her hair. Her father would no doubt accuse her of shaving her hair underneath and then leaving the top long, a style she knew he wasn’t crazy about.

  Elizabeth would have chewed her fingernails down to the skin if they hadn’t been under Juan’s styling cape. She asked, “How short would it have to be?”

  Again he made noises and tapped his finger to his lips before answering, “I am thinking to your shoulders.”

  “Okay, let’s do that. No hiding. Hiding means later it might be revealed and misconstrued. Better just to put it out there in the open, right?”

  “Yes.” And as Ray Stevens sang about being a barber for loggers, Juan went to work. His hands flew around her head as he began to create a masterpiece. As he worked, he talked. “I guess you are wondering about this room’s design.”

  “Yes, I must admit I’m a little curious.”

  “Oh, they all are. They all are. My wife, Juanita, she loves Elvis.”

  Then it clicked. “Elvis’ green room?”

  “Ah, you have been to Graceland?”

  “Yes, once. I’m from Tennessee. I went on a church trip. I remember the green room. The carpet on the walls and the huge hollowed-out chair. Elvis had it fixed that way for the acoustics, I believe.”

  “So my wife tells me. I’ve never been to Graceland, but she went before we met. She seemed to believe this would be an ‘interesting’ style for the shop.”

  “She did get that part right. It is interesting.”

  “She loves Elvis so much we named our only son Elvis. She wanted to pipe Elvis music into the building and have it on a repeating track. But I told her no.”

  On and on Juan talked about his family. He talked about how he’d met his wife. How many children they had and the activities his children participated in. By the time he was done with her hair, she felt like she was part of his family. When his hands stopped whirling around her head, she chanced to look up in the mirror and gasped.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Who is that?”

  “Why that is you, darling. Did you not know you were under there?” He smiled revealing a row of perfect white teeth.

  Elizabeth looked at Juan, a grin gracing her face. “Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “But Juan, I have to pay you something.”

  “No. It was already taken care of. Now you go out into the world, and let them see you. And come back any time.”

  She pumped his hand in gratitude. “Oh, I will.”

  Elizabeth left the shop and stepped out onto the curb. Hailing another taxi, she’d come home. Now she was sitting here trying to decide what to do next. There were hours left before the party. She’d already picked out her dress earlier in the week. Her hair was absolute perfection, thanks to Juan. Maybe she should return her phone calls?

  But as Elizabeth considered the idea, she heard a low tapping on her door. She unfolded herself, walking toward the noise. She hoped it was someone of little importance. Maybe they wouldn’t even notice her hair. She looked out the peep hole and when she saw Bruce on the other side, she leaned back and groaned.

  What should she do? Elizabeth wasn’t prepared to see him yet. Blushing from her toes to her hairline, she thought about the kiss. She’d practically fallen into his arms like a wanton.

  Maybe if Elizabeth was quiet Bruce would assume she wasn’t home? She would just wait him out. That was it.

  Guilt started to push at her. What kind of Christian would she be if she hid away?

  Bracing herself, Elizabeth opened the door. Bruce looked fantastic. He was wearing a pair of raggedy jeans and a white cotton T-shirt that stretched taut across his broad chest. His black hair was dripping wet, and small tendrils curled and lay against the nape of his neck. His crystal blue eyes pierced her with its intensity.

  She couldn’t help but look at him. Staring at the top and working her way down, she saw he was barefoot.

  “Bruce, what are you doing here? And why are you barefoot?” she asked, a frown creased her brow.

  “I wasn’t thinking. I forgot.”

  “Bruce you should be more careful. This is a decent neighborhood, but there is the occasional needle or broken glass lying around that you could step on.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just forgot. I was on the phone with my mother, and I saw you walking up your sidewalk, and I had to see you.”

  “You saw me on the sidewalk? From where?”

  “Oh, yeah. I need to talk to you about that. Elizabeth, can we go inside?”

  “Sure,” she said, as she moved into the foyer and gave him room to follow.

  Bruce headed right and entered the living room. He sat down on the lone chair and leaned forward placing his elbows on his thighs before speaking. He held his head in his hands. He looked up at her as he spoke, “Elizabeth, I owe you an apology.”

  She wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d obviously rushed over, and he’d been so focused he’d forgotten his shoes. What could he need to apologize for? For the kiss? She’d kissed him. That was hardly his fault.

  “First of all, your hair looks great.”

  She blushed at his praise. “You really think so?”

  “Yeah, I know so. It doesn’t hide your face which is very—” he grunted “—beautiful.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Elizabeth said, sensing the sincerity in his statement.

  “Back to what I was saying…” At this point he couldn’t sit still, and he started pacing like he would in front of a jury. “Thursday night when we were working together in the storage closet—” Here he paused like he was expecting a reaction, and she just sat there listening. When he finished, he said, “I’ll be honest, your kiss stunned me.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Not that I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I enjoyed it a lot.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks and set in a slow burn as she tried to hide her face by looking at the floor.

  “Elizabeth, will you look at me?”

  There he was, on his knees beside her. His finger under her chin, lifted her head, and he gazed into her eyes.

  “Do you know your eyes are like sparkling emeralds? When you’re angry they flash. When you’re happy, they twinkle.”

  “No,” she answered breathlessly.

  “Elizabeth, there is so much I need to tell you.” He dropped his hand and moved away from her, leaving a cold spot where his warmth once had been.

  “Bruce, I’m listening. I’ll admit I don’t know where this is going. All I know is God has put me with you for a reason. Whether that is to help you on a case or for some other purpose I don’t know. What I do know is if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you then, we can never move past it.”

  He seemed to be hosting an internal struggle. His hands ran through his hair, sending water droplets onto the floor. He looked tormented. What could she do to assure him she would listen without judgment?

  Leaning against the fireplace, he looked at her. Pleadingly he spoke, “Elizabeth, the reason I need your forgiveness is I’ve not been completely honest with you.”

  She clenched her hands together. Her palms sweated, and she fought to control her panic. He had a girlfriend or a wife! That was the only thing she wouldn’t be able to take. She waited, and he spoke again.

  “I, well, I need to tell you where I live.”

  She knew she looked confused. Where he lived? Why was this an issue?

  “Elizabeth, I’m your neighbor. I live two doors away.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bruce watched the myriad of emotions cross Elizabeth face. Her new hairstyle allowed him to see her facial expressions more clearly. Was she mad? Upset? Did she feel betrayed? He wished he knew. He kept waiting for her to speak. She just sat there.

  When she did speak, he was surprised. “You’re my neighbor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged, shifting around in his seat. “I don’t know. I guess after that first night when I brought you home, I thought you wouldn’t believe it was a coincidence. Then the longer I waited to tell you, the harder it seemed to get. I didn’t want you to be angry of course.” He waited then added, “Are you angry?”

  “No. I’m not angry. I’m a little confused. If you’d have told me, I wouldn’t have been so worried about you bringing me home. Nor would I have let it concern me when you offered to take me to work. Just out of curiosity, when did you realize you were my neighbor?”

  “Not until that first night when I brought you home from the bistro.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Elizabeth, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to lie to you. It just never seemed like there was a good time to tell you.”

  “Bruce, it’s okay. Really it’s not that big of a deal. I wish you would have told me, of course. But it’s fine. I forgive you.”

  Elizabeth’s genuine smile of forgiveness made Bruce’s heart swell. It felt good to have the secret off his chest and to know she wasn’t upset with him.

  “So you’ll still go with me to the party tonight?”

  “Of course. Although I do have a question. Are we going as employer and employee or is this a date?”

  When Bruce hesitated, Elizabeth said, “Either way, I want you to know, I need to be home at a decent hour. I have church tomorrow.”

  That reminded him of his earlier conversation with his mother. Would this be a good time to find out if she was Catholic? Perhaps he could just invite himself to her services. And seriously, his mother was just blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Did it really matter what religion she was?

  Before Bruce could ask Elizabeth his question, she said, “Bruce, would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  When the coffee was brewed, they took their mugs to the front room. Bruce sat on Elizabeth’s couch, while she curled up like a kitten on the opposite chair. With her legs folded under her and a smile on her face, she looked comfortable.

  Elizabeth took a sip of her coffee. Her eyes veiled under long, curved lashes, she peered at him over her mug. Then out of the blue, she said, “Tell me about your family.”

  Bruce laughed at her request, “Are you sure you want to know about my family?”

  “Yes, of course. Yours has to be smaller than mine, so out of kindness I’m letting you go first.”

  “Don’t be so sure. There are three kids.”

  “Gotcha beat. Eight kids.”

  A loud guffawing noise escaped his throat as he repeated, “Eight kids?”

  “Yep, eight. I’m the youngest one and the only girl.”

  Bruce couldn’t stop repeating the word eight. Elizabeth playfully rose up and gave him a slight punch in the gut before sitting back down. He laughed at her actions and watched as a rosy hue covered her cheeks. Might as well get it over with. He cleared his throat. “Well, you’ve met my older brother, Cole. As you probably already guessed, he’s a police officer. His ex-wife calls me every time their son has an event to attend because Cole refuses to talk to her. They had this big fight over religion, and now she uses me to get to him.

  “Then there is my younger sister, Haley. She’s some kind of society mongrel. She basically lies around and just spends her husband’s money. I’ve had the hardest time trying to figure out what she does with her free time. Then of course there is my mother, Lily, and my father, Jeffrey. They’ve been divorced for as long as I can remember. My mother has never remarried. She prefers to make my father suffer by living off of the alimony he’s forced to pay. And my father, I think he is on his fifth marriage, but I could be forgetting a few. The money attached to his name tends to attract leeches.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened, “Oh, my.”

  “Yeah, I know. Then of course there’s me. Middle child Bruce Malone. The lawyer. The upstanding citizen. The do-gooder of the family, as Cole likes to call me.”

  A display of emotions ran a gamut across her face. One thing about Elizabeth was you always knew what she was thinking. Bruce interrupted her wayward thoughts and said, “Your turn. Maybe we should get another cup of coffee first. I have a nagging suspicion that a discussion of seven siblings is going to take awhile.”

  “Sure. I’ll go get the container and bring it in here. Plus my creamer from the refrigerator,” she answered, with a wink.

  Moments later, she returned to the room with a tray. It carried all the items they would need for an afternoon of talking. On the tray was a box of Girl Scout cookies. “This is my last box. But I’m willing to share,” she sighed as a grin spread across her face.

  Picking up a cookie, Bruce sank his teeth into the coconut, and washed it down with a long swallow of coffee. Bruce watched as Elizabeth dunked her cookie in the cup. Everything seemed so normal between them. They hadn’t discussed the party tonight, but that was okay. Right now they were just two people—neighbors, man and woman—having a normal conversation.

  After a moment of silence, Bruce said, “Now it’s your turn so spill it.”

  Elizabeth leaned forward and mixed her creamer with her coffee. She grabbed another cookie and leaned back into the chair. “Where to begin with my family is always the question. It does no good to tell you all their names because you could never remember them. Sometimes I barely remember them. It seems like every time I go for a visit someone has had another kid and I have to memorize another name. Anyway my mom and dad are June and Paul Smith. My father is a pastor of a moderately sized Baptist church around Knoxville, Tennessee. I have seven brothers. They are Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, James, Thomas, and Peter. Sounds like reading the books of the Bible, right?”