Dang it. Beth Ann dragged herself into the front of the salon. Through the glass door, she saw Miranda hold up a bottle of wine, and behind her, Brenna held up a pizza, all smiles.
She unlocked the door and let them in, a reluctant smile tugging at her mouth. “Hair emergency, huh?”
“Seeing as how I figured you’d been here all week without a shower, I thought the hair emergency was appropriate,” Miranda said, giving Beth Ann’s rumpled pajamas a distasteful look. “I just didn’t say it was my hair emergency.”
Beth Ann touched her tangled hair. “Thanks. I think.”
Brenna shut the door behind her and locked it again. “We’re having an official girls’ night in, we decided. Since the boys are all bonding over garbage, we thought we could bond over nail polish and pedicures.” Brenna fluttered her lashes at Beth Ann. “If you’re willing to give us pedicures, of course.”
She laughed at that. “Don’t tell me you two mooches just came by for free nail polish.”
“Not free,” Miranda said, and waggled the bottle of wine at her. “We’re paying with booze.”
“And gossip,” Brenna added. She set the pizza down on an empty chair and dragged Beth Ann toward the barber’s chair. “Sit. We’ll tell you everything we know.”
She wanted to ask about Colt. No, scratch that, she didn’t. Finding out more about him would just hurt even more. “I don’t care about town gossip.”
Miranda got out paper cups and began to pour the wine as Brenna grabbed a hair brush and began to tackle Beth Ann’s tangled hair. It made her mouth quirk into a smile—half the time, Brenna’s own hair was so ridiculously wild that it was funny to see her fussing over Beth Ann’s hair.
“Oh come on,” Miranda said slyly, passing her a paper cup of wine. “You don’t want to hear about the big coupon fiasco over at Cutz?”
Her stomach clenched painfully. “I know enough about it already.”
“Well, someone called in an anonymous tip to the mayor, it seems,” Miranda said sweetly, handing a cup of wine to Brenna.
“Just call me anonymous,” Brenna said with a grin.
“And,” Miranda continued. “It turns out that our beloved Mayor Williamson was furious that someone was trying to underhandedly run a business out of town, much less his daughter’s business. He’s very proud of his daughter, you see.”
Beth Ann choked on her sip of wine. She stared up at the women, incredulous and delighted. Her father supported her business? “What? Really?”
“It’s true,” Miranda said. “I heard he’s been trying to call you all week.”
She glanced over at her machine. She hadn’t been checking it. She’d closed the salon, and didn’t want to hear from the occasional stray customer. That’d just make things worse. The red light was on, but she’d thought it’d been a jillion calls from Allan. Or Colt, begging her to take him back.
Her gut clenched, sick at the thought. Sick, because she missed him and hated that she was so weak.
“Soooo,” Brenna sang, “this Jordan chick had to stop honoring the coupons, immediately. And when her clients found out that they had to pay two hundred dollars for a haircut instead of forty bucks? The shit hit the fan. Her place has been deserted for days.”
Beth Ann swigged her wine, shaking her head in surprise. She hadn’t noticed. “Wow.”
“If you’d open your doors,” Miranda said encouragingly, “I’d bet some of your clients would come back.”
“Oh, oh,” Brenna said, hopping. “And I got six hundred dollars back from your landlord for you.” She pulled a wad of cash out of her bra and shoved it in Beth Ann’s hand. “Guess who was putting the heat on your landlord to raise your rent?”
“Allan?” she said in a flat voice.
“Biggest ass**le ever,” Brenna singsonged. “Anyhow, your dad went and had a long talk with him and apparently Allan has vowed to leave you alone for a while. I heard he’s dating his secretary.”
Huh. She was suddenly filled with love and affection for her father. Beth Ann leaned in to get a piece of pizza. How sweet of her dad to step in for her when no one else would, not even Colt.
She stopped, holding the slice of pizza in her hand and staring at it. She hadn’t told Colt about Allan’s manipulations. She knew what he would have done if he’d have known—and she smiled, picturing Allan with a busted nose and two more black eyes. Strange how Beth Ann could feel such a vicious twist of glee in her stomach at the thought.
Then again, Colt had protected her before, in the past. He was always very protective of her. He glared at anyone that he thought might be making her uncomfortable.
An uneasy feeling shivered over her skin. She bit into the pizza, trying not to think about it. She was just trying to paint a sunny picture of Colt, because that was what she always did. Right?
“Well?” Miranda asked.
“That is good gossip.”
“It is,” Brenna agreed, twisting Beth Ann’s long hair into a braid. “What else do you want to hear about?”
Beth Ann grinned as Miranda grabbed her foot and pulled it into her lap. She pulled out a toe spacer and pushed it between Beth Ann’s toes. So the makeover was going to be her own, was it? Her friends were the best. “What have you got?”
Miranda thought for a moment. “I could tell you all about who checked out The Joy of Sex from the library. Hint. It’s a man, and he’s eighty.”
Beth Ann giggled and took another swig of wine.
“That’s boring,” Brenna proclaimed.
“Well, do you have anything better?” Miranda said, giving Beth Ann a long-suffering look, and then refilled her paper cup with more wine when Beth Ann held it out.
“No,” Brenna said. “I’ve been busy following Pop around.”
“Pop?” Beth Ann asked between sips of wine.
“Colt’s dad. We call him Pop. Colt set him up in a cabin at the ranch, and now I keep breaking stuff so he has things to do.”
Beth Ann smiled at that, her heart hurting a little. “That’s sweet.”
Brenna shrugged, then grinned. “It drives Grant crazy, so I look at it as a personal challenge.”
She would.
“Pop’s an old sweetheart, though,” Brenna said with a smile, grabbing the pink strand of Beth Ann’s hair and braiding it separately. “It’s just going to be a challenge keeping him at the ranch when Colt leaves.”