“We discussed her taking a break for the time being. We’ll keep her hours on file and when she feels she’d be able to return she can pick up where she left off.”
Steve hardly knew how to respond. Although he didn’t know Cassie well, she didn’t look like a quitter to him. He’d seen other candidates come and go. One woman dropped out after the first week because it was just too hard to juggle a job and also work on the project. When it came right down to it, Steve had been happy to see her go. Early on he had her pegged as a taker instead of a giver.
Even in the short while he’d worked with Cassie he knew she was a giver. She’d cut and styled Shelly’s hair, and just that simple act of kindness had made Shelly glow with new confidence. George had gotten a free haircut, too. And from what George told him, their children had as well. Cassie had done it after working at the salon on Saturday and then putting in five hours at the construction site. She must have been exhausted. By the time he got home, Steve knew he was bone weary, and he hadn’t worked near the hours Cassie had.
“You had your doubts about Cassie when you first met her.”
“I’ve had a change of heart since then,” he said quickly, still reeling with this news. It came to him that he’d be disappointed if Cassie left the project now. “Did she decide what she wants to do?” he asked, eager to know.
“No, she’s thinking on it.”
Steve mulled over this information. “Did she happen to mention why she’s depressed?” If so, maybe getting her some treatment would help.
“Not really. How much do you know about her background?” Megan asked.
“Very little.” Generally, he didn’t care to know unless it related to the applicant’s ability to work. The past wasn’t important to Steve. He preferred to look forward.
“She came out of an abusive marriage.”
A common enough story, he thought sadly.
“As we talked, Cassie gradually relaxed and I was able to get a bit more information out of her. From what she said, she’s been estranged from her family for the last thirteen years. Her ex made sure she had no contact with them.”
That seemed to be a common thread in a lot of the cases he’d heard about.
“Unfortunately, in that time period both of her parents died and she wasn’t able to get home for their funerals.”
Steve felt bad for Cassie. In addition to his wife, his own father had passed several years back and it’d been a rough loss for him and the rest of the family. It’s never easy to let go of loved ones, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without a proper good-bye.
“Her older sister recently reached out to her. Cassie was excited and pleased to hear from her sister.”
“That’s nice. Families need to stick together.” His own was spread all across the country. He kept in touch, but visits were sporadic.
Megan continued, “When she told me about the call, Cassie mentioned her sister had set aside several of her parents’ belongings for her and her daughter. All Cassie had to do was collect the furniture in Spokane. After being away from her family all those years, it meant the world to Cassie to have this opportunity.”
Steve still didn’t get it. “And?”
“And she took on an extra job. It was the only way she could think to earn the extra money she’d need to rent a truck and drive to Spokane.”
Steve knew all about that extra job. He’d seen her at CenturyLink Field himself.
“Apparently, someone at the match complained about her service,” Megan continued. “As a result, Cassie was asked not to return. She lost the only means she had of earning the extra money she needs.”
Steve briefly clenched his teeth. Britt. “But I thought you said these items were in storage.”
“They are, and her sister has paid for two months’ rental fee, which is almost up. Cassie is going to be forced to tell her sister that she can’t come collect her things—the last link she has with her parents.”
“That’s why she’s considering dropping out of the program?” Steve asked, not entirely connecting the dots.
“Oh, not really. I think it’s just an example of why she’s feeling so defeated and daunted by the process of trying to build a better life. And I do think she’s really concerned she’s been neglecting her daughter. She promised to sleep on it before she makes her decision.”
“Good.” All at once Steve found it impossible to sit still. He got up from the chair and started to pace the confines of the office.
“The reason I asked to speak to you, Steve, is because I need an assessment from you on Cassie. Did I misjudge her? Is she a good candidate for us?”
He didn’t need to think twice. “Cassie is exactly the type of person Habitat was meant to help. She’s diligent, honest, and has a strong work ethic. I’m really sorry to hear that she’s considering putting her commitment on hold.”
“I’m glad you have faith in her. I liked Cassie from the moment I met her. She’s got a great deal going for her, but she’s been through a lot. For someone who’s been repeatedly beaten down, their supply of hope tends to dwindle quickly.”
“Yes, it does.” He remembered Alicia and the change in her when she’d given up all hope. It wasn’t long after that that she died. He was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t hear Megan when she next spoke.
“Sorry?” he said, and forced himself to concentrate on Megan.
“I was just talking about the Hoedown.”
“Yes. What about it?”
“First of all, thank you again for sponsoring the event.”
“No problem.”
“It’s our biggest fund-raiser and we wouldn’t be able to hold it without your generous contribution.”
This was the third year he’d been the main sponsor. He contributed the funds in Alicia’s memory. She had only recently started to work with Habitat at their store when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. It was her second bout after surviving the first go-around. They’d been warned that anyone who survives stage-four ovarian cancer is at high risk for it to return. It had with Alicia—and with a vengeance. She’d died within six agonizing months.
“Fourteen Bones has agreed to provide the dinner again.”
“Great barbecue,” Steve said, although his mind was only half on what Megan was telling him. The other half was spinning with regret over Cassie’s situation. He hated the thought of her losing out on her last family memories because of what happened with Britt. It made him realize anew that he’d made the right decision not to date her again.
“The best,” Megan was saying. “And the band …”
“Yes?”
“The Oak Hill Boys have agreed to return.”
“Their music is terrific.” Last May at the Hoedown, Steve hadn’t been able to keep from tapping his feet. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he’d been tempted. If Alicia had been alive she would have dragged him onto that dance floor in a heartbeat. For show he would have put up a squawk and then he would have danced the night away with his wife. Unexpectedly, a pang of loss hit him.
“What about the servers?” he asked, in an effort to divert his thoughts from Cassie.
“All lined up,” Megan told him.
“It appears everything is falling together nicely.” Megan was a wonder. He admired her skill for organization.
“We’ve already sold over two hundred tickets.”
“It looks like we’re going to have a full house.”
“Looks that way,” she concurred. “So get out that cowboy hat of yours and polish your boots.”
“Will do,” Steve promised, still preoccupied. “And let me know what happens with Cassie.”
“I will. Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it.”
“Any time.” Steve’s head continued to spin as he left Habitat’s office. He couldn’t leave matters with Cassie the way they were. Although it hadn’t been his doing, he felt a certain responsibility.
He reached for his phone and hesitated, s
earching his memory for the name of the salon where Cassie worked. He finally came up with the name, logged on to the website, saw the phone number, and called the salon.
“Goldie Locks. This is Rosie. How may I help you?”
“I need a haircut.” He wasn’t sure what he had in mind yet. Maybe he’d sound Cassie out, learn what he could. If possible, he might even be able to help.
“Is there any particular stylist you would like to request?”
Steve found himself smiling. “Yes, please. I’d like to book it with Cassie Carter.”
Chapter 10
No one was more surprised than Cassie when Steve Brody was escorted to her station. She didn’t know what his game was, seeking her out where she worked, but she wasn’t playing.
Steve sat down in the chair and removed his hat. “I’m here for a haircut,” he announced, as if she hadn’t already figured it out.
She met his eyes in the mirror and asked the same question she asked every first-time client. “What do you have in mind?”
“Shorter than what it is now.”
Very funny. “Do you want it trimmed around the ears?”
“Please.”
She brought out the plastic cape she reserved for men. Somehow it seemed wrong to put a cape decorated with pictures of a dozen different types of high heels on a male client.
As was her custom, she ran her hands through his hair, testing the feel of it between her fingers. His was thick and healthy and only a tad long. Certainly he could have waited another week or two for a haircut. He obviously had something on his mind that had nothing to do with hair. Most likely it involved her visit to Habitat’s office earlier in the week.
Without a word she escorted him to the sink in order to wash his hair. He lounged back and closed his eyes as she tested the water temperature. After wetting his hair down, she added the shampoo and, using the tips of her fingers, massaged it into his scalp. Although she performed the same task a dozen times every day, this time she felt a strange feeling come over her. Her fingers slowed as she continued to lather his hair. She grew warm all over, and her fingers tingled as she touched him. She felt completely taken aback by her physical reaction to this man whom she hoped to avoid at all costs. A longing seeped through her, feelings she hadn’t dared to dwell on in a very long while. The desire to be held and kissed and loved. The desire to be cherished and appreciated.
It was a relief when she was able to rinse away the shampoo. She released her breath, bothered that she’d allowed herself to react to him at all. Her application of the conditioner was short and over with as quickly as she could complete the task. Where in the world was this coming from? These were questions she didn’t want to ask for fear of what the answers might be.
If Steve experienced any of the same sensations she did, he didn’t show it. Wrapping the towel around his head, she led him back to her station. Once he was seated, she brought out the scissors and started clipping away. After a few years working in the industry, Cassie had cut countless heads of hair. She knew what she was doing and she was a good stylist. Why this man should unnerve her was a mystery and one she preferred not to delve into. She didn’t like the uncomfortable feeling that stole over her.
She didn’t say a word.
Neither did Steve.
Later it was unavoidable as she brought out the electric razor. “Lower your head,” she told him, hoping to sound professional.
He complied.
Cassie ran the razor along the back of his neck and then around his ears. When she’d finished, she reached for her hair dryer and turned it on the low setting, blowing away any small hairs that might have clung to his neck and face. When she’d finished, she unclipped the cape and carefully removed it from around his shoulders.
In the entire twenty minutes it’d taken her to cut his hair they hadn’t exchanged more than two or three sentences.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked.
Cassie told him. He stood up and removed his wallet from his hip pocket and laid down a fifty-dollar bill.
“I’ll get your change.”
“Keep it,” he said.
Cassie’s eyes shot to his. “Keep it?” she repeated, certain there was a misunderstanding.
“Yes.” He hesitated, his eyes holding hers prisoner. “I heard you’re considering taking a leave from Habitat.”
So Cassie had guessed right. She met his look head-on and didn’t answer.
“Is that true?”
“What if it is?” she said, when the silence became too uncomfortable to bear any longer. “What concern is it of yours?”
“Don’t be a fool, Cassie. This is a golden opportunity for you and your daughter. Habitat is a gift. Don’t blow it.”
“Why do you feel qualified to give me advice?” she asked, her words dripping with sarcasm.
“Because you have what it takes to make a success of this, to give your daughter a real home and security.”
She supposed she should take that as a compliment, but she didn’t. “Thank you, I’ll take that into consideration.”
He hesitated as if he was about to say something more. “I’m telling you this for your own good. I overheard you talking on the phone recently. I don’t know who was on the other end of the line, not that it matters, but I heard what you said.”
“So you were listening in on my phone conversation?”
“Not intentionally,” he said, ignoring her defensive attitude. “You told the person to do the next right thing,” he said, emphasizing the words. “That was good advice. You should take it yourself. Do the next right thing, Cassie, and leaving the program now isn’t it.”
She’d said that to Maureen, Cassie remembered, in an effort to encourage her friend. Now he saw fit to throw her own words back in her face.
“Seeing that you’re handing out free advice, allow me to offer you some of my own.”
His head came back. “I beg your pardon?” he said, as though incredulous. “I don’t need your advice.”
“I disagree. The woman you were with at the Sounders game is a real piece of work.”
“Britt is none of your business,” he said.
Cassie didn’t have an argument. “I agree it isn’t my business. Nor is my working with Habitat your concern. You felt compelled to speak your mind. The way I figure it, you owe me the same courtesy I gave you. I listened. The least you could do is the same.”
He folded his arms and braced his feet apart as if he half expected her to try and run him down.
“Okay, fine, I’m waiting.”
“You told me not to be a fool, and I suggest you follow your own advice. Britt isn’t the woman for you.”
He snorted as though highly amused. “And you know this how?”
“Because she’s spoiled, demanding, and unreasonable, although, come to think of it, maybe the two of you are better suited than I thought.” She followed the comment with a sweet smile.
“Very funny.”
“If you think I’m joking, then you’re wrong.” Cassie took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “From everything I’ve heard about your wife, she was an amazing woman. In the time I’ve worked with Habitat two or three people mentioned Alicia, and each time there is this sense of great loss. Mingled in with what they had to say was an appreciation for having had the opportunity to know her and work with her. If you don’t want my advice, Steve, just ask yourself how Alicia would feel about you dating Britt.”
His face flushed a deep shade of red as he whirled around and stormed out of the salon. Nearly everyone in the shop froze and watched him slam the door.
“What was that about?” Teresa, the shop owner, asked, as she approached Cassie.
She shrugged. “I offered some unsolicited advice.”
“You know him?”
She nodded. “He’s the project manager for the Habitat home I’ve been working on the last couple of weeks.”
“That was the Steve you’re always talking about?” Rosie
asked, joining her cousin.
“I’m afraid so.” Cassie couldn’t keep from staring out the salon window, as if she expected Steve to come back so they could finish their conversation.
“You never mentioned how good-looking he is.”
“Steve?” Cassie said, downplaying her reaction to him. When they’d first met she thought he was plenty easy on the eyes, but he’d been so unpleasant to her since then that it’d sort of slipped her notice. Until that moment at the shampoo station. A moment she preferred to ignore.
Teresa simply shook her head. “Cassie …”
“I know … I know. I should have kept my opinions to myself. He felt obliged to give me advice and I was only returning the favor.”
A half hour later Cassie felt dreadful. She should never have said the things she did to Steve. It was difficult enough working with him, and by letting her mouth get ahead of her brain, she’d managed to complicate their differences in what was already a problematic relationship. The worst part was the fact that she was scheduled to work with him Friday afternoon.
Later that evening, Cassie started dinner while Amiee sat at the kitchen table, poring over her homework.
“Mom?”
“Hmm?” Cassie responded halfheartedly.
“What’s wrong?” Amiee said, looking up from her textbook and tucking her chin between her hands.
“What makes you think anything is wrong?” Cassie asked, doing her best to sound like that was the most ridiculous question in the world.
“Well, for one thing, you cooked me poached eggs for breakfast every day this week.”
“So?” She wanted her daughter to start the day with protein, and Amiee had complained endlessly about the cereal she’d bought on sale.
“You hate the smell of poached eggs. You only cook them when you’re looking to punish yourself.”
“I do?” Cassie had no idea.
“I know you’re upset about losing the catering job.”