All kids did.
He mentally shook himself from his negative train of thought. Cami was his now, and he was prepared to do what he needed to be the father figure she deserved.
Which, of course, led him to the reason he now sat in his car, ready to apologize to the lady who lived across the street. All Cami had wanted was to look pretty in her school pictures. Just because she’d scared the daylights out of him didn’t mean she didn’t have a point. He’d tried to be everything and everyone for Cami, but when it came to possessing the skills necessary to fix a little girl’s hair, he was hopeless.
Jonah wasn’t too proud to admit he didn’t know everything when it came to kids. Hell, Cami was the only kid he did know, and she hadn’t come with an instruction manual. Only a mouth. A big one that hadn’t stopped yapping since Monday night.
To be honest, part of the reason he was apologizing was to get the little shyster off his back. To make matters worse, she nixed his idea of leaving a note on Tisha’s door. No, according to the hip-hop Emily Post, that was rude. Apparently ruder than he’d already been. Cami insisted it had to be face-to-face. So after dropping her off at school, he drove to the address he found online for the salon Tisha had told Cami she worked at. He had already called ahead of time to make sure it was the right place, now all he had to do was force himself to go inside and make nice.
With a heavy sigh, he turned off the car and pocketed the key. He needed to suck it up and get on with the apologizing. It was akin to taking off a Band-Aid—the quicker it was done the better things went.
Jonah sighed as he exited his car. Feeling all kinds of stupid, he headed toward the glass door with the gold embossed Q on the front. Q’s Salon. How…quaint, and just his luck, filled to the brim with women. Not only was he going to have to eat crow, he was going to have to do it in front of an audience.
Could the fucking day get any better?
Cowboying up, he pushed open the door and was struck by how the conversation stuttered to complete silence. If that wasn’t bad enough, he was the lone man in the salon, he also happened to be the sole white person as well. He hadn’t felt this out of place since he went to Tia’s baby shower.
To his extreme discomfort, every face turned in his direction. “Uhh…hi.”
“Can I help you?” asked the Latino woman at the reception desk.
“Yes, I’m looking for Tisha Nichols.” And saw her nowhere in sight. If he’d driven all the way over here to apologize, the least she could have done was be at work.
She frowned for a moment and then asked, “For an appointment?”
“No, it’s personal.”
The shop erupted in whispers at his declaration.
“Are you a bill collector?”
Jonah’s eyes widened in shock. Were they the only white people who came in here? “No.”
The pretty woman tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Are you the po?”
What was a “po”? “No.” At least he didn’t think he was.
“You know you have to tell me if you are.”
“That only works if he’s pretending to be a John, Nance,” a familiar voice said from behind him. Relief he’d never felt before filled Jonah as he spun around and spotted Tisha standing in the doorway with a small black plastic bag in her hand. From the resigned look on her pretty mocha-tinged face, she wasn’t any happier to see him than he was to be there. “I see it is a pig, just not of the police variety.”
His relief was short-lived, as was his guilt. “You’re as pleasant as I remember.”
“Didn’t think that was going to change in two days, did you?” Turning from him, she spoke to an older woman sitting by a fern. “You can come back to my station now, Ms. Jean.”
He frowned in disgust as she walked right past him as if he were completely invisible, the curious elderly lady hot on her heels. Conversation slowly began again, but this time it was all about him.
He stood there for a moment, wondering what to do as the pointed looks became stares. It was more than obvious she wasn’t going to come back and listen to him, which left him one other option.
Irritated, he bypassed the receptionist and headed to the back of the salon. The low murmurs turned into audible gasps as he walked by station after station to get to his prey. When he reached the shampoo bowls, he stepped next to Tisha as she started to wash the woman’s hair.
“Are you ignoring me on purpose?”
She turned and gave him a look that would freeze the Sahara. “Would it help if I said yes?”
“I came here to apologize. The least you could do is take five seconds to listen.”
“Actually, it’s not the least I can do at all.” She turned back to her task, muttering under her breath. “Dickhead.”
“If you have something to say you can say it to my face.”
She shut off the water and turned to face him. Once more the salon became eerily quiet as everyone gave up the pretense of talking amongst themselves and became a full-fledged studio audience.
“You want to hear what I have to say then fine, listen up. I work for a living. These ladies have made appointments and expect to be seen on time. So excuse the hell out of me if I don’t bow to the whims of your schedule.”
“I sincerely doubt you can’t spare five minutes.”
Tisha returned her attention to her client, massaging some cream into her hair and covering her head with a clear cap. “Do you now?”
“Yes.”
“That shows what you know. You ready, Ms. Jean?”
“Yes, hon.”
“Let’s get you dry.” Tisha helped the other woman to her feet then walked her over to the row of large industry hair dryers. After sitting her under a dryer, she turned it on then headed straight back toward the front of the salon.
Jonah, refusing to be ignored, stormed right after her. “Do you have time to talk now?”
“No. I have another client to start on.”
“I don’t mind waiting for a few more minutes,” he graciously offered.
“I do. Time is money. You want to talk to me, make an appointment.”
“Fine.” Two could play that game. Jonah walked over to the receptionist desk and smiled politely. “I want to make an appointment, please.”
Nance grinned widely and pulled out a large black appointment book. “Who would you like to see?”
Jonah gritted his teeth. They were all insane. “Tisha, please.”
“And what would you want to have done?” She held the pen over the book as if this was an everyday occurrence.
“Hair cut, please.”
“We might be able to fit you in today, but only if you’d care to wait.”
Yes, he could wait. There was no way in hell he was coming back there to repeat this little drama. “How long of a wait?”
“An hour.”
Fuck. “That will be fine.”
“Good lord.” Tisha huffed from behind him. “Come on, Marelly, let’s get you going. It looks as if I’m booking up fast.”
Blindly grabbing a magazine, Jonah dropped into the seat her client vacated. He had a feeling this might be the longest hour of his life.
Chapter Two
Fuck! He was still here. Just because she was feeling a tad evil, Tisha had purposely turned his hour wait into two and a half hours, yet homeboy didn’t leave. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He left for fifteen minutes, an hour ago, only to come back with some snacks, a laptop and his cell phone. From the way he was crowded at the corner table, with the magazines neatly stacked on the floor, he looked as if he might be there for the long run. Which didn’t please her at all.
Tisha tried ignoring him, and when that didn’t work, she even went as far as to shoot him evil glares every other minute. All her efforts were in vain though, because he was still there. And not only had he not huffed away in anger, he didn’t even seem fazed by the extra time she took.
After sweeping up the hair from around her station, she made her way over to the front of the shop and sighed loudly. Once again her attempts to show him her displeasure were for nothing, because he was busy chatting away on the phone.
“White boy. Let’s go. You’re next.” Her unflattering comment earned her a chastising look from Nance, the shop owner and her best friend, but only a marginal sign of comprehension from Uncle What’s His Face. “Are you ready?”
Instead of replying, he held up his index finger as if telling her to wait one second, and continued with his conversation on the phone.
No. He. Didn’t. “Look, if yo—”
“I’ll be with you in one second, Tisha,” he uttered between his other conversation. “Do what you have to, man, and get this deal pushed through.”
She’d push his deal through, all right. “I’m not wait—”
“Tata, ta, tut.” He interrupted her once more. “Almost done. Back to you, Garland. I’ll be in the office in two hours. I want the contract on my desk when I get in.”
Bewildered, Tisha stared at him with her mouth wide open. She didn’t know what surprised her more. The fact he continuously cut her off or the fact she was still waiting for him to finish his phone conversation.
Had the whole world gone mad?
“Okay, I’ll see you then.” After saying goodbye, he hung up the phone and meticulously gathered his things, taking a few extra seconds to stack the magazines back on the makeshift desk. When he was done, he headed toward the front door, confusing her all the more. Wasn’t he the one demanding an audience today? “Excuse me. My station is that way.”
“Yes, but my car is that way. I’m going to put my stuff back. It will just take a second.”
“So will shaving you bald,” she muttered under her breath as he strolled out of the shop.
“I heard that,” Nance chided as she came to Tisha’s side. The petite Latino woman only reached Tisha’s shoulder, but she still managed to be a force to be reckoned with. It was one of the reasons they got along so well. “Are you going to tell me what the heck is going on or do I have to guess?”
“Girl, your guess is as good as mine.”
“Let’s start easy then. What’s with whitie?”
“I have no idea,” Tisha answered honestly. “Do you remember me telling you about the adventure I had in babysitting on Monday.”
“Yes.” Nancy’s big brown eyes widened as comprehension dawned. “He’s Uncle Nazi?”
“In the living flesh.”
“Hmm…”
Tisha glanced at Nancy, who was staring at her with a look akin to humor on her pretty brown face. “What?”
“Is there a reason you forgot to mention how handsome Uncle Nazi is?”
“Because at the time I didn’t find him appealing. He was yelling at me. Remember? Things such as that tend to make a person ugly really fast in my book.”
“At the time?”
Rolling her eyes, Tisha glanced away. Didn’t it figure that out of her entire speech, Nance would focus on that one small part?
“Fine, I can admit he’s good-looking. If you’re attracted to that sort of look.”
“You mean the clean-cut, handsome, prosperous look?”
When she put it that way… “Yes, that’s the exact look I was talking about.”
“Right. And you don’t find his type appealing?”
The bell over the door jangled at Jonah’s return.
“I’m not saying anything,” Tisha hissed as she motioned for him to follow her to her station. Now that he was actually here, she was ready to get him in and out as fast as possible. Once he was seated, she made short work of covering him with the cape.
She was going to be professional if it killed her. She grabbed her comb from her table and began to work it through his dark locks. For an asshole, he had a nice grade of hair she could tell was well-maintained. This was no discount shampoo kind of guy. Of course, he didn’t seem to be a women’s salon kind of guy either. Especially not one such as Q’s, which catered to mostly women of color.
Tisha spun him around until he faced the mirror and met his gaze in the reflection. “What’ll it be?”
“Take a little off the ends.”
Tisha glanced down at his shoulder-length hair and frowned. To be truthful, if it were up to her, she wouldn’t cut an inch off. She’d always been partial to men with long hair, but this wasn’t about what she preferred on a guy. Of course, she was willing to bet, given the circumstances, he wasn’t interested in having the trim he asked for either. “Let’s get serious. You didn’t come for a haircut.”
“True, but time is money.” He tossed her words back in her face with a knowing look.
Bastard. “Are you always this condescending?”
“Are you always this argumentative?” he fired back as rapidly.
“Yes,” she said truthfully. Tisha wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine, but she was honest about it. “Let’s cut the bullshit and get to why you’re here so I can get some lunch. I get really bitchy when my blood sugar is low.”
“Was it low earlier?”
“No, why?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head and tried a smile. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“You think?”
“No. I know we did, and it was all my fault.”
“Okay…” Tisha regarded him distrustfully. “And?”
“I want to apologize. I freaked out when I realized Cami was gone, which in turn roused my inner asshole. If you forgive me, I promise to do my best to keep him at bay as much as possible.”
“Just at bay?”
“I’m an occasional asshole, not a liar. I’d hate for our budding friendship to start off on a lie.”
“I didn’t say anything about being friends.”
“No, but I was sort of hoping you would. Come on, aren’t we the littlest bit even now?”
“How do you figure?”
“I was an asshole on Monday and you were a…”
Tisha reached past him to her table and picked up her scissors then arched a brow. “And I was what?”
“Less than pleasant today,” he finished smoothly.
“Less than pleasant, huh? I thought we weren’t going to lie.”
“Despite what you think of me, know this. I’m not an idiot. There’s no way in hell I’m going to call a woman, holding a pair of scissors in her hand, an unflattering name. I might be an ass, but I’m not a dumbass.”
She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Can’t fault you for that. So did you really want that trim?”
He turned around in the chair until he was facing her again. “Not really.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Placing the scissors on the table, she held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Tisha, your neighbor from across the street. Nice to meet you.”
He shook her hand with a smile. “I’m Jonah and I have a precocious almost-ten-year-old niece you might have seen around.”
“You don’t say?”
“Now that the formal introductions are out of the way, how about we grab some lunch?”
“Lunch. With you?”
“Yes. You might even find you like me once you come to know me.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Is that a yes?” He stood.
Tisha regarded him for a second and swiftly came to a decision. Hell, what did she have to lose? “Yes, it’s a yes.”
* * * * *
After a brief conversation about whose car to take, Tisha agreed to ride with Jonah down the block to a local Italian restaurant. From what he was beginning to learn about the pretty woman, everything was an argument. Not that he thought it was entirely bad. In fact, he found it to be surprisingly sexy as hell.
Suddenly he was very glad he’d taken the initiative to ask her out to lunch. Things had started very badly, but it wasn’t the way he wanted them to end. Even though she was a feisty little thing, she seemed as if she was a good person. Something the world lacked. She kindly did Cami’s hair, in her garage no less, not only making his little girl feel special but also giving her the one thing she’d been missing for a while—a woman’s care.
Cami might not carry his DNA, but she carried his heart, and anyone who was good to her was golden in his book.
They made idle chatter in the car, nothing too deep or serious, which was fine with him. It gave him time to formulate a plan. He wanted to get to know Tisha better, but without coming off as too intrusive or too interested. He wanted to keep things light. Let her get to know him a bit before he pounced.
When they entered the restaurant, a very attractive woman with long, flowing red hair approached Jonah, eyeing him as if he were on the menu she was carrying in her hands. Normally that would have been fine with him, but today he had a guest with him and her predatory glances bordered on disrespect. For all she knew, Tisha could have very well been his wife.
Still, he decided he would be nice, until it was time for him not to be. He sent her a disarming smile as she neared them and placed his hands in his pants pocket to hide the lack of a wedding ring. He didn’t come here to pick up anyone or to be hit upon. He just wanted to eat and get to know Tisha a little better. Frankly, he didn’t think he was asking for a whole hell of a lot. “I’d like a table for two.”
Without sparing Tisha a glance, the hostess zeroed in on Jonah and practically cooed hello to him. “Is the rest of your party here, sir?”
Jonah frowned, a bit taken aback by her blatant disregard of Tisha, who was standing mere inches away from him, but before he could respond, Tisha slid her arm through the loop of his.
“Yes, I am,” Tisha said loudly. The hostile stare she sent the hostess dared the other woman to say something.
“Oh.” She blinked blankly, as if Tisha had magically appeared before her. Jonah could practically hear Tisha grinding her teeth in frustration at the woman’s rudeness, but he had to say, she held it together quite well. She didn’t roll her eyes as Cami would have done.
“Follow me.” Without sparing them another glance, the woman spun on her heel and stalked toward the dining room.
“I’ll follow you all right.” Tisha snatched her arm back.
Jonah chuckled and placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her toward where the disgruntled hostess was standing. She barely waited for them to reach the table before she dashed off. “Not one to bite your tongue, are you?” He chuckled as he pulled out Tisha’s chair for her.
“Never.”
“Didn’t think so.” He smiled, seating himself. As unprofessional as their hostess was, their waiter was just the opposite. They’d barely sat when he appeared at their table, breadbasket in one hand and notepad in the other. After taking their drink orders, he whisked away as quickly as he’d appeared.
Jonah opened the menu briefly, picked out an entrée then closed it. He was more interested in learning about the woman across from him than in what the daily special was. He waited patiently for her to close her menu before bombarding her with conversation. Before he could begin though, he noticed her look over his shoulder and frown.
Intrigued, he glanced over his shoulder to see what garnered her attention and frowned himself when he spotted the hostess staring in their direction. Maybe Italian hadn’t been such a good idea after all. “We can leave if you want.”
“Please,” she snorted, turning her attention back to him. “I’m not going to allow that malnourished Ariel wannabe to ruin my lunch.”
Malnourished. Ariel wannabe. Priceless. “It’s amazing what a difference a day makes.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you tore me a new asshole in your garage, it wasn’t very funny. Yet watching you mad dog her amuses the hell out of me.”
“I wasn’t mad dogging her.”
“Right,” he teased. “Just as you were completely in the right on Monday.”
“I might be willing to concede if the shoe would have been on the other foot on Monday I might have reacted the same way you did. Might have, mind you. But this crap right here bugs the shit out of me. I mean I was standing right next to you. Right. Next.” She snatched a breadstick from the basket, gesturing with the golden-brown edible baton instead of eating it. “Come on, how could she figure we weren’t together? As if I would stand that close to someone I didn’t know. Not that I know you, but you get what I’m saying.”
“I do.” As much as the hostess’s behavior annoyed him, it truly didn’t surprise him. The blindness of others had become more noticeable after he was given custody of Cami. In this day and age, it still surprised him when people were shocked to see a white man with anyone of a different race. He and Cami received so many double glances they began to make a game of it. “But people are how they are.”