“That’s great,” she said, watching another customer stroll down the street toward the other salon. Her teeth clenched. “You still going to give all the proceeds to the library?”
“Yup. I think it’ll be a great fund-raiser. Much better than another charity drive.”
“Much,” she said absently, then frowned. “Hey, Mir, let me let you go. I need to check something out.”
“Sure, catch you later. Call me.”
Beth Ann ended the call and tossed her phone down on the counter. She flipped the sign on her door, and then headed down the street, curious to find out what the other woman had that she didn’t. Because darn it, she was tired of wondering. And now she wanted answers.
Beth Ann entered the other salon hesitantly. Her bravado had disappeared somewhere during the walk across the street, and now all she felt was anxious.
She glanced down at the row of customers. All four seats in the waiting area were full. In the salon section, a woman stood behind a barber chair, curling Mrs. Potter—her old client, she noticed—into a ragged-looking updo. Hmph. At the back of the room, another woman sat, painting nails. Twins. She hadn’t realized there were two women. They were pretty, too, though the one curling hair needed to wear less makeup. She wore tight capris and a leopard sweater, her black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She gave Beth Ann a quick glance as she entered, and Beth Ann noticed she was wearing false eyelashes. Good lord.
“We can’t take walk-ins today,” the woman announced, a thick drawl to her voice. “Too busy. Earliest I can get you in is Tuesday. You have a coupon?”
“She’s not a walk-in,” Mrs. Potter said in an unpleasant voice. “She’s the competition.”
Hateful woman. Beth Ann frowned. “I’m not here for a haircut.” Oh heavens. What was she going to say now that Mrs. Potter had pretty much sold her out? I came to snoop and see why you’re selling so much better than I am? The decorations on the walls were generic, the equipment the same as hers. She didn’t get it. “I came over to say hi and see how business was going.”
The hairstylist gave her an uncertain smile. “Business couldn’t be better. Thanks for asking.”
On a nearby seat, a woman held up a purple slip of paper. “Here. I have an extra coupon if you need it. You could get your nails done. Probably be nice to have someone do yours for a change.”
Numbly, Beth Ann took the coupon, too polite to point out that she could do her own nails for free…and then froze. Bluebonnet special—80 percent off of her regular prices? Beth Ann glanced over at the sign on the window, and did some mental calculation. Even with the woman’s astronomical fees, with this coupon, she was still much cheaper than Beth Ann’s prices.
Coupons. Of course. How stupid she’d been. People were attracted to a sale, and this woman was undercutting the hell out of her and making it seem like a bargain. Annoyed, she flipped over the coupon.
Her heart stopped. The coupon postcards had a small, cheerful sun in the top left-hand corner, along with a return address. They’d been sent out from Sunny Motors. She’d recognize that logo anywhere. Fury slammed through her, and she sucked in a deep breath, then marched over to the woman with the false eyelashes.
“Excuse me,” Beth Ann said, and shoved the coupon at her. “Who’s behind this?”
The woman—Jordan, judging from her nametag—smiled at Beth Ann. “New business incentive.” She winked. “I almost thought it was too good to be true, but Allan assured me it’s on the up-and-up.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” She studied the woman a bit longer, the fake eyelashes, the enormous rack. “Did he ever buy you shoes?”
Jordan grinned over at Beth Ann. “You know Allan, too?”
“Not for much longer,” she muttered, tucking the coupon into her pocket. “Because I’m going to kill him.”
SIXTEEN
Another mistress. Beth Ann was furious. Worse. She was beyond furious. She was seething with rage. How dare he. How dare he try to push her business out of town and set up one of his mistresses? Had he been bankrolling Cutz’s coupons just to try to force her to quietly shut her doors?
She was utterly, utterly livid. To think that he would do something so low, so controlling. Beth Ann slammed into the first parking space at Sunny Motors and tore inside, the coupon clutched in her hand. She held her keys like a weapon and marched to the back office, and stared down Sammi, his secretary. Another mistress. Who hadn’t Allan slept with? God, why had she ever taken him back?
“I need to talk to Allan,” she said tightly. “It’s an emergency.”
Sammi gave her an insolent look. “He’s busy.”
Beth Ann felt her entire body quiver with rage. She grabbed the stack of paperwork off the girl’s desk and threw it at the opposite wall, enjoying the rain of papers falling all over the room almost as much as the shocked O on Sammi’s face. The girl got up from her desk and moved to pick up the first piece.
Beth Ann pushed her way into Allan’s office.
He was in there. Alone. And he looked thrilled to see her, standing up immediately and moving forward to give her a hug.
She pushed him away. Shoved the coupon at his chest. “What. The. Fuck. Allan.”
He flinched. “Language, Bethy-babe.”
“What the f**k?” she cried again. “What the f**k are you trying to do to me?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about—”
“Don’t lie to me,” she said, clenching her fists or she’d slam them into his face. “Quit lying to me and just tell me the truth for once in your life. What are you doing? Why is that new salon sending out 80 percent off coupons with your logo on them? Why does ‘Jordan’ think that it’s some sort of Bluebonnet business incentive? How much are you spending just to try and run me out of business?”
Allan got quiet. He stared down at the coupon, and then back up at her. “You weren’t supposed to know, Bethy-babe—”
“That you were trying to run me out of business?” Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. “Why are you doing that to me? How could you be so cruel?”
He grasped her shoulders. “Because I want you back,” he said desperately. “And as long as you think you’re independent and on your own, you won’t come back to me. I want you to need me again. I want you to love me again.” Tears filled his eyes. “Beth Ann, I can’t live without you in my life. At my side. Please. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just wanted to make you need me again.”