Holding Strong. Lori Foster

feet tall.

      Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, Joey worried as she came out from behind the reception desk; despite his size, the man seemed friendly enough, but the two of them were very much alone in here, and even serial killers could probably be charming!

      ‘Believe me, I’m only interested in having my hair trimmed,’ the man reassured her as he settled himself down in one of the chairs that faced the mirrored wall.

      Joey’s face flamed with embarrassment. So much for the cool sophisticate she believed herself to be; one look at her expression, and this man had known exactly what she was thinking!

      She took down one of the protective wraps hanging on the rail behind her and draped it around him, effectively trapping his hands beneath its folds; a rose-pink wrap usually set aside for female clients. Two could play at this game!

      ‘Now, what would you like done?’ she enquired in her most professional voice, looking at his reflection in the mirror, dismissing the realisation of how tiny she looked standing next to him. Only as tall standing as he was sitting down, her shoulder-length blonde hair cut in a shaggy easy-to-manage style, guarded green eyes surrounded by dark lashes as they met his gaze levelly.

      He shrugged. ‘As I said, just a trim.’

      He had very nice hair, as chocolate-brown as those teasing eyes. If a little dusty, she discovered as she ran her hands professionally through the healthy brown waves.

      ‘Would you like your hair washed before I cut it?’ she offered lightly.

      ‘I’ll wash it later when I shower,’ he refused with a grimace. ‘If you don’t mind the fact I’m a little dusty, that is?’ He raised dark brows.

      ‘Not at all.’ Joey turned away to pick up her comb and scissors, having noticed on closer proximity that he gave off an odour of aftershave, with an underlying masculine smell of sweat usually engendered by physical labour. ‘Are you working on the building site next door?’ she asked conversationally as she began to cut his hair.

      He nodded. ‘I really am sorry I’m such a mess,’ he grimaced again. ‘Ordinarily, I would never have come in here straight from work, but—’

      ‘You have a heavy date tonight?’ Joey guessed teasingly—looking like this, when wouldn’t this man have a ‘heavy date’?

      ‘Something like that.’ He chuckled softly, a deep, throaty sound that made Joey’s nerve-endings tingle.

      Much to her disquiet. Really, this man had just walked in here off the street, was obviously a building labourer, probably a transient worker; the chances were Joey would never see him again after today. Besides, he had a ‘heavy date’ this evening…

      ‘How are things progressing over there?’ She nodded in the direction of the building site behind the salon.

      ‘Not bad. This place will be coming down soon too, won’t it?’ he queried lightly.

      Joey’s fingers faltered slightly as she shaped the hair over his ears, glad she was bending forward so that he couldn’t see her expression clearly. ‘Soon, yes,’ she confirmed hardly.

      She tried not to think about it, despite the fact that her landlord had informed her several weeks ago that he wouldn’t be renewing her lease when it came to an end in two months’ time.

      Like everyone else in this block of buildings, he had sold out to the Mason supermarket chain. A supermarket chain rapidly becoming the biggest in the country, and so able to pay her landlord a much larger sum than he would ever receive in rent, even over a hundred-year period! In fact all of the other properties in this particular square were already empty, or in some cases demolished.

      This man might be slightly dusty, but the salon had been in a similar condition since the first building came down several weeks ago, dust covering every surface no matter how often it was cleaned.

      ‘Sore point?’ the man in front of her prompted softly.

      ‘Yes.’ Joey didn’t even attempt to prevaricate; ‘sore’ didn’t begin to describe how she felt over effectively being evicted. ‘I realise you work for Dominic Mason,’ she sighed, ‘but—’

      ‘The building work for the new supermarket is contracted out to Harding Construction,’ he cut in.

      ‘Whatever,’ Joey dismissed—what did it matter who built the damned thing? The fact that she was having to find new premises for her business was still causing a major upheaval in her life.

      As if she needed another one just now! Lily’s father had crawled out of the woodwork two months ago too. In fact, she had received notification that her lease wouldn’t be renewed and the letter from Lily’s father on the very same day. A black day in her life!

      The first, in view of the fact that her lease was coming to an end anyway, it appeared she could do nothing about. The second she had dealt with by way of a very abrupt letter informing Daniel Banning that she had absolutely nothing to say to him, that anything that needed to be said had already been done so. The silence since she had sent that letter had been oppressive.

      ‘You were saying…?’ her customer prompted curiously. ‘About Dominic Mason,’ he reminded her as Joey looked at his reflection blankly.

      Dominic Mason, Joey thought disgustedly. Since his appearance in the supermarket line ten years ago the man had managed to buy out two other prominent chains, expanding to the States and Europe, as well as increasing his own chain in England.

      ‘The man will only be happy when he owns every supermarket in the world,’ she gritted.

      ‘A supermarket megalomaniac,’ the man said with knowing humour.

      ‘Exactly,’ Joey agreed, easily getting into full stride where the subject of Dominic Mason was concerned. ‘Just how much money does one man need?’ she scorned, snipping away at the dark hair. ‘He—’

      ‘Not too short, if you don’t mind,’ the man put in softly.

      ‘Sorry.’ She gave him a rueful smile, easing up on the cutting. ‘As you’ve probably guessed, Dominic Mason is not my favourite person.’

      ‘Hardly surprising, really.’ The man nodded. ‘Has your boss found somewhere else to go yet?’

      Boss…?

      ‘I’m the “Joanne” over the shop front,’ she corrected him. ‘Although everyone calls me Joey,’ she added—for some reason she wasn’t completely sure of. Her friends called her Joey—and this man was far from being that!

      ‘I hadn’t realised you’re actually the owner,’ he admitted. ‘No wonder you’re p—er—not feeling very happy—’ he amended whatever he had been about to say ‘—with Dominic Mason.’

      ‘He’ll win in the end, of course,’ she sighed, brushing away the cut hair from the back of his neck. ‘His sort always do. But I don’t intend moving from here until I absolutely have to,’ she added resolutely.

      She knew that her salon was probably causing problems to the building of the new Mason supermarket, standing as it did almost in the middle of the construction site! Good—any nuisance value she could give Dominic Mason was worth all the dust she had to contend with every day!

      ‘I can’t say that I blame you,’ the man acknowledged lightly, standing up once Joey had removed the pink wrap. ‘How much do I owe you?’

      ‘It’s eight pounds fifty for a trim,’ she related automatically, glancing at the serviceable watch on her wrist; nearly time to pick up Lily and her friend Daisy from ballet; it seemed flowers had been the fashion in girls’ names six years ago!

      ‘Damn!’ He had reached into his jeans pocket, the hand coming out empty. ‘I remember now. I left my wallet in my other clothes.’ He groaned. ‘A building site isn’t exactly the ideal place to carry money and credit cards.’

      Great.