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“Now, don’t you worry. I’ve got a couple great lists that should prove very helpful. And it just so happens that I suddenly have the perfect idea for a co-chair for you.”
“Who?” Libby tried to think of anyone in their group who was crazy enough to let Mabel rope them in. She couldn’t think of a soul…other than herself.
“I don’t want to say until I’m sure.” Mabel’s hand was on the doorknob.
“Mabel, you’re making me nervous.”
Mabel turned around and faced Libby with a look of confusion on her face. “You know, people say I make them nervous all the time and I’m not sure why.”
“Maybe it has to do with your coming at them with needles, or maybe you just have one of those personalities that makes people nervous.” Realizing that Mabel had managed to get her off the subject of the Christmas party, Libby added, “About this party—”
“Gotta go,” said the neighborhood needle-pushing acupuncturist and busybody as she raced out the door.
Libby watched helplessly as Mabel disappeared from the front of the store. Plan a Christmas party? What had she been thinking?
She’d have to worry about it later, because she had a full day’s schedule waiting for her. But worry about it she would.
There was just no way she could plan a party for two hundred in just a few weeks. The shop would be a madhouse between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Most of the time Libby looked forward to the holidays. But suddenly she was feeling decidedly Grinchy about this Christmas party.
Grinchy wasn’t the word to describe how Libby felt as she waited for her four-thirty appointment later that day.
“What do you want now?” she barked when parking-space-hogging Dr. Gardner waltzed into the shop and took a seat in front of her.
“Just a quick trim.”
Realization hit her. “I saw J. Gardner in the appointment book, but I didn’t realize it was you.” The name had been in Josie’s handwriting. Libby should have asked who the customer was when she didn’t recognize the name.
If Pearly and Josie weren’t in the back room, she’d be giving them the evil eye, hoping to make them worry about a lecture when this new customer left.
“Believe it or not, Doctor isn’t my first name. Most of my friends call me Joshua, or Josh even.”
“Then I think I’ll stick to Dr. Gardner, if you don’t mind.”
He was watching her reflection in the mirror, Libby realized. His dark brown eyes studied her, making her feel like a hare being stalked by a hawk.
“And if I said I did mind, Libby?” he asked softly.
“Then I’d say, so sorry, Dr. Gardner, I prefer we keep things formal.” She whipped the cape around his neck, and pulled it closed with a little more force than required. “And the name’s Ms. McGuiness.”
He sighed. “You’re still miffed about the parking space.”
“Miffed?” She reached for a comb, tapping the excess sterilizer solution against the side of the soaking jar.
“The flowers as an apology didn’t help? In my experience, women love that kind of thing. Plus, I had to go to the effort of looking up your address in the phone book.”
“I realize that alphabetical order might cause you some difficulty, so I’ll give you credit for having to figure out just where McGuiness might be in the phone book. And I might admit I love flowers, though I hate to be a generalization, but your card just added insult to injury.”
From anyone else she might have found the card humorous, even cute, but from Dr. My-smile-gets-me-out-of-trouble Gardner, she was simply even more put out.
Libby stared at his hair a moment, strangely reluctant to touch him. Why was that? Of course he was good-looking, but she cut a lot of good-looking men’s hair and never felt this unreasonable need to keep as much distance as possible between herself and them. Men didn’t affect her—not anymore. She was totally immune to the whole species.
“An apology added insult to injury?” He craned his head so he could look her in the eye. “How?”
“Dr. Gardner, if I’d seen an apology, I’d have accepted it.” Forcing herself to shake the crazy urge to run as far away as she could get, Libby reached out and turned Dr. Gardner’s head so he was facing forward. “The card was just another slap in the face.”
“You don’t have much of a sense of humor, do you, Ms. McGuiness?”
“Sure I do, when I see something humorous.”
The only funny thing she saw right now was the strange emotions Dr. Gardner seemed to be evoking in her. She wasn’t the type to start fights on the street, and she wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, and yet holding one she was—holding on to it as tightly as she possibly could.
“Are you saying I’m not funny?” he asked.
“I’m saying you’re certainly funny, just not in a humorous sense of the word.”
“I’ll have you know that plenty of women find me humorous.”
Libby realized that Josie and Pearly were probably in the back room hanging on every word of her conversation with the irritating Dr. Gardner. Determined not to give them anything else worth listening to, she finished the absurd argument. “I’m sure they do, Dr. Gardner. I’m sure they do. But the big laughs you give other women don’t interest me at all. What kind of cut you want does.”
“Like I said before, just a trim.” The humor in his voice had faded, replaced by a clipped annoyance.
“You’re sure you’re comfortable trusting me with a sharp implement at your neck?” Libby was sure she wouldn’t trust the good doctor. His frustration was evident by his expression.
“I’m sure you’re much too professional to maim a paying customer.”
“Fine.” Finally the man shut up. Libby spritzed his hair with her water bottle, then snipped in blessed silence.
Joshua Gardner might not be as humorous as he liked to think, but Libby would admit the man had a fine head of hair. Thick, with a slight tendency to curl. Running her fingers through it would be a pure sensual delight if she was the kind of woman who paid attention to those kind of things. But Libby didn’t pay attention to the way the ends of his hair curled around her fingers. No, not one bit of attention.
No wonder he kept his hair well trimmed. Otherwise it would rapidly get out of control, just as her strange thoughts were out of control.
She toyed with the hair, just making sure she’d cut it evenly, she assured herself. That was the only reason her fingers were lingering in his hair. It had nothing to do with the pleasure of running her fingers through his dark locks. Not a thing.
“Are you done fondling me?” Joshua finally asked, pulling Libby from her hair-induced daze.
“If you didn’t want me to touch you, why on earth did you make an appointment to have me cut your hair?” She spun the chair so it faced her rather than the mirror.
“I made the appointment because I thought I could kill two birds with one stone. Get a much-needed trim and discuss what we’re going to do about the party.”
“What party?”
Joshua stuck out his hand. “Hi. Joshua Gardner, cochairman of the PSBA Christmas party.”
Libby ignored the hand. “I’ll kill her.”
“I could ask her who, but I’m going to assume you mean Mabel. And I’m going to assume the fact you want to kill her indicates you’re less than enthused at the prospect of working with me. Since planning a Christmas party requires very little parallel parking, I think we should be safe.” He shot her a smile, one that had probably gotten him out of countless sticky situations.
Despite the fact that a smiling, newly trimmed Joshua Gardner was a sight to behold, Libby frowned. “I quit.”
His smile slipped a notch. “What?”
“You can plan the party yourself.”
There. Problem solved. Libby hadn’t wanted to plan the Christmas party before she found out who her co-chair would be, but now…well, having a mammogram was higher on her list of things she wanted to do. At least a mammogram had some intrinsic value, something she’d found totally lacking in Joshua Gardner. Unless she considered his great head of hair—which Libby definitely wasn’t considering.
“I don’t know the area,” Joshua protested. “I mean, I might be from Erie, but things have changed since I left home.”
“I’m sure you can find someone else to help you.”
Josie and Pearly had been quiet in the back room—too quiet. She was betting either of them would willingly throw themselves at the man’s feet, and help plan the party.
“I’m sure one of my employees would volunteer.”
A small thud came from the back—a thud she was sure her two employees were responsible for. Whether it was Pearly and Josie thumping, Sure we’ll do it or What are you thinking? Libby wasn’t sure. The only thing she was sure of was that she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with Dr. Gardner.
“What are you afraid of, Libby?” he asked quietly.
“Ms. McGuiness,” she corrected. “And I’m not afraid of anything. You just rub me the wrong way, and I don’t have the time or patience to pretend your arrogant, overbearing manner is acceptable. So, keep your flowers, your hair and your smiles to yourself. And find someone else to help with the party.”
“Are you telling me that you are immature enough to let one small incident mar any further relationship between us?”
He removed the cape and stood, facing Libby. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes, but look him in the eyes she did. “Let me assure you, Dr. Gardner, I have no interest in a relationship with you. You might think that no woman can resist you, but I’m quite capable. I have no desire—”
“I wasn’t talking about a personal relationship,” he interrupted. “I was talking about a professional relationship. We’re both members of the Perry Square Business Association, and we’re neighbors. Surely you’re adult enough to put one small disagreement behind us, and work together on this one little party. Unless you’re avoiding me for some other reason.”
Libby knew a challenge when she heard one. She shouldn’t care what he thought, as long as he thought it somewhere she wasn’t. But despite the fact she should just let him think whatever his tiny little mind wanted to think, she found herself saying, “Fine.”
“Fine. You’ll stay my co-chairman?”
“Yes. But no more flowers, no more parking anywhere near my car and we keep our meetings as brief as possible and strictly business.”
Again, Joshua extended his hand and this time, reluctantly, Libby accepted it in an impersonal handshake.
“Partners,” he simply said.
“For now,” she added.
“Thanks for the haircut.” He reached in his pocket and handed her a bill. “Will that cover it?”
“Just let me get you your change.”
“Keep it. Could we meet tomorrow night after work?”
Libby wanted to say no to both the tip and the meeting. But the tip would go toward Meg’s computer, and tomorrow was Friday and Meg was spending the night with the Hendersons, so it was convenient. But it irked her to tell the good doctor so.
“Fine,” she said grudgingly.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow after work, Ms. McGuiness.” He turned and left the store.
As if every ounce of energy had drained away, Libby sank into the chair that was still warm with Joshua Gardner’s body heat.
“Way to go, honey,” Pearly said as she burst from the back room.
“For a minute there, I thought you’d blown it.” Josie patted her hair. Her opinion was, bigger was better, and her red-from-a-bottle hair was certainly proof of that philosophy. Despite its impressive height, there was never a strand out of place. Josie’s nails were as loud as her hair, and just about as big and red. As the shop’s manicurist, she felt her nails were advertisement, and she advertised as much as she could. “I mean, Mabel found the perfect guy for you to work with.”
“Perfect?” Libby snorted. “He’s overbearing, arrogant, very unhumorous in his I-think-I’m-soooo-funny way, and—”
“Flowers. Tell us about the flowers,” Pearly commanded. Pearly, the shop’s other hairstylist, still carried her Georgia roots in every word she uttered, just as she carried her own natural graying brunette hair. Pearly didn’t believe in pretenses, not even with hair color. Soft and very Southern, Pearly was a lady to the core of her being.
“You two were eavesdropping.” The accusation held very little heat. Libby was well aware that Pearly and Josie were professional eavesdroppers and busybodies. That’s why they got along with Mabel so well. There was no way they would have been able to resist the opportunity to spy.
“Of course we were spying,” Josie said, honest to the core.
“You should have just gone home. You didn’t have any more appointments,” she grumbled.
“And miss all the action?” Josie laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“What was that thump back there?”
“Me kicking the wall,” Josie admitted. “I thought you’d blown it.”
“I wish I had.” Libby rubbed her temple. Dealing with Joshua Gardner had given her a headache. Dealing with Josie and Pearly was intensifying it.
“Honey, when fate throws a good-looking man in your lap, it’s best to catch him.” Pearly was always spouting off down-home wisdom.
“Personally I’ve found it best to duck.” Especially if that man was Joshua Gardner.
“You’re hopeless,” Josie said, snapping her gum for emphasis.
“No, I’m a realist. And realistically there’s no way Joshua Gardner and I will ever get along.”
Joshua Gardner was a realist. Realist enough to know that working with Libby McGuiness—Ms. McGuiness—was going to be a huge pain. Either the woman didn’t like men in general, or she just didn’t like him. It didn’t matter which it was—working with her was going to be a chore. He should have just let her bow out and asked Mabel to find someone else he could work with.
But he hadn’t let her bow out.
In fact, he’d practically insisted she continue chairing the party. His actions didn’t make sense. And if there was one thing Joshua Gardner liked, it was having things make sense.
Maybe that’s why his breakup with Lynn had been so difficult. It didn’t make sense. He’d thought they were happy…right up until the day Lynn told him she wanted a divorce. The divorce didn’t make sense to Joshua, at least until he’d met Lynn’s new boy-toy. Twenty-five with a washboard stomach. Then it made plenty of sense.
He looked down. His stomach wasn’t exactly a washboard, but it wasn’t potbelly, either. He took care of himself, but didn’t push the line to obsessing about his body. And though he wasn’t twenty-five anymore, he was happy being almost forty. Well, maybe not happy, but not dreading his forties. No midlife crises for him, unless you counted a failed marriage, and picking up and starting over again.
He’d been living the life that he’d always wanted…Well, except for kids. He’d wanted them. She hadn’t. And they had none.
Lynn said she’d worked as hard for her degree as he had for his, and she wasn’t about to give up all that work for some mewling brats. He’d pointed out he’d be willing to split the burdens fifty-fifty, just like he wanted to split the joys, but Lynn would hear none of it.
In the end, nothing was split quite fifty-fifty, but the settlement was fair enough. Lynn had bought out his half of their practice, and it had given him enough to start over. To start here in Erie, his hometown.
Though his family had scattered throughout the country, this was still home.
