and months of a hot affair where almost every night was spent together. Every night when neither one of them had a conflict, they'd ended up in bed together.
Damian had shown up at her apartment the night after their 'first date' without any warning, and within mere minutes, Angie had found herself butt-assed naked and clinging to him, more than ready for round two. A date had turned into two dates and weeks had turned into months now.
Maybe it was only casual, maybe it wasn't, but it damn sure wasn't a simple friendship as she insisted to his mother every time the older woman came into the salon. "Yes, I think he's really handsome," she answered, biting the inside of her cheek, as she applied the highlights that would give the much-needed definition to the older woman's hair. It had taken a while to convince her to allow highlights, but now the older woman loved them and seemed to trust only Angie to do them.
"Then why exactly are the two of you just friends?" Justine Rule asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time, her tone one of frustration.
Angie attempted to stifle the clang of warning in her head that was telling her nothing good could come of this conversation, as she tried to stick as close to the truth through the web of lies spilling from her mouth. "We don't have a lot in common, I suppose."
"He likes you, I can tell. The night of my dinner party, he couldn't keep his eyes from you, darling," the older woman said with a fondness toward her that made Angie feel even guiltier.
She felt a flush of crimson climb up her cheekbones. "I'm sure you're exaggerating. We don't know each other that well. Just from the salon, really."
"He must have wanted you to be with him that night. I just don't understand. Did he even give a hint he might like to see you again?"
A rock crawled up and lodged itself in her throat. Mrs. Rule seemed to have a one-track mind today and Angie couldn't distract her as she usually did. Damn Damian for not wanting to be honest with his mother! Answering this question would be a full-blown lie, and it was making her very uncomfortable. "No, he didn't really mention much that night. I got the idea that he only needed an escort for the evening."
"You know why, don't you?" Mrs. Rule asked conspiratorially.
"Umm--" Angie faltered.
"It's because he doesn't care for it when I don't mind my own business. But sometimes I can't help it; I love Courtney so much and want to keep her in my family. And marriage to one of my sons would do the trick. But I suppose Damian thinks of her as a sister. Anyway, he was trying to teach me a lesson, I think."
"Maybe so." Angie shrugged. Maybe Damian did think of the girl as a sister, but it had been obvious to Angie that one of his brothers didn't. "But he is a grown man, Mrs. Rule. I'm sure he'll find someone in his own good time."
"Well, he's taking too long! He'd be happier if he would settle down with one woman."
Angie felt a knot grow in her stomach and couldn't help asking, "Does he date a lot, then?"
"Oh, my yes, although I don't know if I'd call it 'dating.' He has a lot of women, darling, but they seem to be interchangeable, although I haven't seen him with anyone lately. That's why I think you'd be perfect for him. You're so attractive and. . . and," she paused as if searching for the correct word to describe Angie's style. "And vibrant!"
Angie smiled at the other woman in the mirror. "Thank you." She realized in that moment that Damian didn't understand his mother completely. He'd taken Angie to her dinner party with the belief that his mother wouldn't like her because of the way she looked, but that wasn't the case at all. The woman didn't appear to Angie to be judgmental at all, and she gave her credit for that.
As she put the cap on Mrs. Rule's head before leading her to the hair drying station, Angie glanced to the front of the store and saw her next appointment, an older gentleman who'd been her customer for a long time. She smiled across
Damian had shown up at her apartment the night after their 'first date' without any warning, and within mere minutes, Angie had found herself butt-assed naked and clinging to him, more than ready for round two. A date had turned into two dates and weeks had turned into months now.
Maybe it was only casual, maybe it wasn't, but it damn sure wasn't a simple friendship as she insisted to his mother every time the older woman came into the salon. "Yes, I think he's really handsome," she answered, biting the inside of her cheek, as she applied the highlights that would give the much-needed definition to the older woman's hair. It had taken a while to convince her to allow highlights, but now the older woman loved them and seemed to trust only Angie to do them.
"Then why exactly are the two of you just friends?" Justine Rule asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time, her tone one of frustration.
Angie attempted to stifle the clang of warning in her head that was telling her nothing good could come of this conversation, as she tried to stick as close to the truth through the web of lies spilling from her mouth. "We don't have a lot in common, I suppose."
"He likes you, I can tell. The night of my dinner party, he couldn't keep his eyes from you, darling," the older woman said with a fondness toward her that made Angie feel even guiltier.
She felt a flush of crimson climb up her cheekbones. "I'm sure you're exaggerating. We don't know each other that well. Just from the salon, really."
"He must have wanted you to be with him that night. I just don't understand. Did he even give a hint he might like to see you again?"
A rock crawled up and lodged itself in her throat. Mrs. Rule seemed to have a one-track mind today and Angie couldn't distract her as she usually did. Damn Damian for not wanting to be honest with his mother! Answering this question would be a full-blown lie, and it was making her very uncomfortable. "No, he didn't really mention much that night. I got the idea that he only needed an escort for the evening."
"You know why, don't you?" Mrs. Rule asked conspiratorially.
"Umm--" Angie faltered.
"It's because he doesn't care for it when I don't mind my own business. But sometimes I can't help it; I love Courtney so much and want to keep her in my family. And marriage to one of my sons would do the trick. But I suppose Damian thinks of her as a sister. Anyway, he was trying to teach me a lesson, I think."
"Maybe so." Angie shrugged. Maybe Damian did think of the girl as a sister, but it had been obvious to Angie that one of his brothers didn't. "But he is a grown man, Mrs. Rule. I'm sure he'll find someone in his own good time."
"Well, he's taking too long! He'd be happier if he would settle down with one woman."
Angie felt a knot grow in her stomach and couldn't help asking, "Does he date a lot, then?"
"Oh, my yes, although I don't know if I'd call it 'dating.' He has a lot of women, darling, but they seem to be interchangeable, although I haven't seen him with anyone lately. That's why I think you'd be perfect for him. You're so attractive and. . . and," she paused as if searching for the correct word to describe Angie's style. "And vibrant!"
Angie smiled at the other woman in the mirror. "Thank you." She realized in that moment that Damian didn't understand his mother completely. He'd taken Angie to her dinner party with the belief that his mother wouldn't like her because of the way she looked, but that wasn't the case at all. The woman didn't appear to Angie to be judgmental at all, and she gave her credit for that.
As she put the cap on Mrs. Rule's head before leading her to the hair drying station, Angie glanced to the front of the store and saw her next appointment, an older gentleman who'd been her customer for a long time. She smiled across
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