Close Enough to Touch. Victoria Dahl

over Grace, taking her in. The wild hair. The tattered sweater. “I’m not sure I have steady work for you in makeup. Brides, sure. Right now they just get their makeup done at local salons, but they don’t always understand what’s best for photos. I spend a lot of time touching up the prints.”

      Grace was nodding already. It was what she’d expected to hear, after all.

      “But…” Eve said just as Grace was about to pitch herself for whatever freelance work she could get. “A lot of these are modeling shots and movie stills. You obviously know the industry.”

      “Yes.”

      “You know how the business works?”

      “Yes.”

      “So maybe you could do something more for me.”

      “How so?”

      “I do some work setting up shoots for the industry. Magazines. Movie stills. That kind of thing. Right now, I have a lot of that and then some. More than I can handle. You know the players. You know the language and politics. If you’d consider taking some of that on, in addition to the occasional makeup job, we might be able to try something out.”

      Grace was too shocked to say anything for a few long seconds. This woman wanted to give her a chance? This woman wanted to take a risk on a girl with purple hair, a bad attitude and a completely unknown past? Why?

      When Grace didn’t answer, Eve cleared her throat. “If you really don’t want to do the other work, I’d be happy to call you when I need a makeup artist for weddings. And sometimes there are big charity events that—”

      “No! It’s not that. I’ve just never done that kind of work before, but I’d be happy to try.” Would she? She had no idea.

      “How much do you charge for freelancing?”

      “In L.A., I charged a hundred dollars an hour for freelance beauty work, but I’m quick, so I’m never more than thirty minutes. Usually less. But here…forty dollars a session?”

      “I think that’s fair. You’ll be totally freelance. I won’t ask for a cut. But there’s no way I can pay more than fifteen dollars an hour for the office work, and the hours will be part-time.”

      “That’s fine,” Grace said. Fifteen dollars an hour was a hell of a lot more than zero. And more than she’d make as a grumpy waitress. She knew that from experience.

      “Great!” Eve said, reaching out to shake Grace’s hand again. “I’ll do a background check, so I hope that’s okay. With all this equipment and so much seasonal employment, I make it standard practice.”

      “Of course.” In L.A., a criminal check was assumed. And Grace’s record was surprisingly clean, or it had been since she’d turned eighteen, anyway. But now… Oh, God. She hoped she’d been able to appease Scott. What if he’d changed his mind since she’d called him? What if he—

      “Thank you so much,” she made herself say. “When do you want me to start?”

      “How about Monday? Come in at nine. I can’t always promise you a lot of hours, but I’ve got an unexpectedly busy week, so can you stay until five?”

      “Yes. Absolutely.” Grace left feeling…excited.

      Maybe Wyoming wasn’t so bad. Maybe she’d have good luck while she was here.

      Maybe the man she’d left behind in L.A. had been the last stupid mistake of her life.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      OR MAYBE NOT.

      She walked around town for a while, avoiding the tourist area for streets lined with lower-end shops, hoping to find a used sporting-goods store where she could buy a cot. Though she finally found a store, apparently used camping gear was in hot demand here in the summer, just outside the boundaries of Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. The only cot she’d found had been way over her ten-dollar budget.

      In the end, she left with a cheap camouflage sleeping bag more suited for sleepovers than outdoor use. Fine with her. She just needed a little padding between her and the floor.

      When she got her first paycheck, maybe she’d come back for the air mattress she’d spotted. Maybe even a folding chair. But nothing else she wouldn’t be able to take to Vancouver when she left.

      By the time she’d stopped at a grocery store for bread and peanut butter and walked all the way back to her apartment, it was after three. And the saloon next door was already hopping. Grace dropped her bags in the apartment and walked over to thank Jenny.

      Before she got down the front steps, the tones of an unfamiliar ringer cut through the air. She frowned for a moment before realizing that it was her own cheapo prepaid phone and dug it from her bag.

      “Hello?” she asked with obvious suspicion.

      “Grace! Oh, my God, we haven’t talked in almost a week. Are you in Wyoming? Do you have any minutes left?”

      Grace smiled as the voice of her best friend traveled from a satellite and made her sound like she was standing right there. “Merry,” she said in utter relief. “Yeah, I’ve got minutes. What’s up, chick?”

      “What’s up? Oh, my God, tell me what’s going on! The last time I talked to you, you had some sort of plan to go be a mountain man or something. And I haven’t been able to get through since!”

      “It’s this phone,” she said, which was only partly true. Mostly, she’d been avoiding her best friend. “I have to keep it off or the battery dies. I’m sorry. Everything’s good. I’m in Jackson. It’s beautiful.”

      “Beautiful? Really? Where’s Grace Barrett and what have you done with her?”

      “Ha. Yes, the mountains are pretty, the people are friendly in an almost noncreepy way, and I just got a job.”

      Merry squealed. “I’m so glad! You actually sound happy!”

      “Bite your tongue. But happy or not, it’s really still me. I plan to ditch this joint in a month or so.”

      “Are you coming to Dallas? Please tell me you’re coming to Dallas.”

      “Merry, we’ve discussed this. Texas is not the place for me.”

      “Oh, my God, you’re in Wyoming, for godssake! And you love it, apparently. How can you dismiss Texas?”

      “I don’t love it,” Grace insisted. “I just have a free place to stay. So stop pouting.”

      “I’m not pouting,” Merry said, very obviously pouting.

      “You are, but it’s cute.”

      “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t come live with me.”

      “I need to be in Vancouver in a few weeks,” Grace explained. “Texas is a little out of the way. Listen, I should go—”

      “No! You haven’t told me anything!”

      Grace winced in guilt.

      “Please tell me what happened. You were trying to get organized so you could get work at L.A. Fashion Week. Then all of a sudden you were leaving town.”

      “Nothing happened,” she lied. “I lined up this job in Vancouver and then my aunt offered me the apartment, so I decided there was no point hanging around L.A. That’s it.”

      “Grace.” Her flat voice made Grace’s throat burn with shame. Merry knew it was a lie, but Grace couldn’t tell her the truth. She just couldn’t.

      “I’m good,” Grace said. “Really good.” That might be an exaggeration, but she embraced it. “In fact, I’m on my way to a saloon to celebrate the new job.”

      That distracted Merry, as Grace had known it would. Merry loved shiny