Texan for the Holidays. Victoria Chancellor
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Название: Texan for the Holidays

Автор: Victoria Chancellor

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired

isbn: 9781408957721

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ Myra, you know I’m not getting rich in this town,” Brody answered. “And I’m hardly powerful.”

      “You’re a Brody, aren’t you?” Myra looked up at Scarlett. “Town’s named after his family.”

      “Oh, I hadn’t made the connection.”

      “That was generations ago. They owned a ranch, like most everyone else around here.”

      “You could be rich if you’d sued that grocery store. I could have gotten sick on bruised bananas.”

      “But you didn’t, because you had enough sense not to eat the bananas, and therefore we didn’t have a case.”

      “So now I have to eat bad bananas to get my due!”

      “I didn’t say that,” James Brody replied, then sighed. “And besides, I came in to see…I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”

      “I forgot to tell you. It’s Scarlett.”

      “Scarlett…?”

      “Just Scarlett, unless you’re from the licensing board or health department or insist on seeing my license.”

      “That bad, hmm?”

      She nodded. “My mother has a warped sense of humor.”

      “Sorry to hear that.” He shifted from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable—but why? Because he stood in a beauty salon, or because he’d just asked her out to lunch? “So, Scarlett, do you want to get a burger?”

      She could definitely use all the free meals she could get, since her car engine, as the snaggletoothed chicken crate man had prophesized, was “blown.” But no, she couldn’t have lunch. She had another client coming in after Myra was finished with her wave, no tight curls.

      “Sorry, but I can’t. I’m booked up until after two o’clock. If you want to talk, I’ll work you in.”

      “Well, if that’s the best you can do, I’ll accept your offer to see me between appointments,” he replied, and added a dimpled smile, which proved just how perfectly preppy—and okay, charming—he really was.

      “Just remember you can’t trust lawyers,” Myra said.

      “It’s good to see you, too, Myra,” Brody replied without the dimple, then gave Scarlett another slight, all-suffering smile. “I’ll see you in a few.”

      “I’ll be here.” As soon as the door closed behind him, Scarlett wondered just exactly what she’d agreed to do…and if she should have held out for the free lunch.

      “HI,” JAMES BRODY SAID, as he walked into the salon fifteen minutes later, on the dot. Scarlett finished putting away styling products into a rolling cart. She dropped a comb in sterilizing solution and turned to face him. “How was your burger?”

      “Same as always. I eat there every day, except Chamber of Commerce monthly luncheons and the occasional meeting with a client.”

      Scarlett thought that sounded extremely boring, but she held her tongue. His eating habits were none of her business. Although he was here, making something his business. But what?

      Venetia was working with a client. Since she wasn’t very friendly and probably gossiped like a pro, Scarlett would rather not talk to James Brody in front of her. “Do you want to go out back to talk? It’s not too chilly today. At least the cold wind has died down.”

      “Sure. Lead the way.”

      She had the feeling he was watching her as they made their way through the shampoo area, the room with the lumpy pull-out sofa she currently called home, and out the back door, where there was a small porch.

      She settled into the lawn chair, leaned back, raised her tired feet to the railing and looked up. “Well, Mr. Lawyer, what did you need to talk about?”

      He leaned against the iron railing next to the two steps going to the parking area, and folded his arms across his leather jacket and very nice chest. “Mrs. Desmond came into my office just before lunch. Apparently you fixed her daughter Ashley’s hair on Saturday.”

      “Oh, yes. Petite girl with—” Scarlett almost said “big ears,” but stopped herself in time “—brown hair.”

      “Her mother is upset that Ashley’s hair wasn’t styled as usual. Or at least in a style similar to the other girls. She felt Ashley was damaged by being different.”

      “What?” Scarlett sat upright and swung her feet to the porch. “Ashley loved her hair!”

      “Apparently her mother had different ideas.”

      “Well, her mother is wrong! That traditional updo isn’t right for a teenager. She needed something softer, with a little volume…er, on the sides.” To cover up her big ears, not show them off.

      “I know that you believe you gave her a style that was suitable for her face, but you’ve got to understand that in small towns, being traditional is often more important.”

      “That’s nonsense. There’s no reason these girls should look like little cookie cutter dolls. They should get hairstyles that are appropriate for them.”

      “Their mothers are paying for the styles, so they have some say in the final product.”

      “If Ashley’s mother thinks an updo would look better on her daughter than that cute twisted-curl style I did, she just doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You should ignore her.”

      “I’m not encouraging her to sue—”

      “Sue! She should be thanking me!”

      “She has a different opinion, and whether you or I agree with her, she’s Ashley’s mother and lives in this town. She feels her daughter was harmed.”

      “I can’t believe this! I’m telling you that Ashley loved her hair. You can ask Clarissa.”

      “I haven’t talked to Clarissa, and neither did Mrs. Desmond, apparently. She came to my office earlier and asked me to talk to you.”

      “Well, that’s ridiculous!”

      “I’m just saying that sometime between Ashley leaving the salon and Monday morning, Mrs. Desmond decided to see an attorney. Now, as I said, I didn’t encourage her.”

      “Am I supposed to be grateful for that?”

      “Look, if she comes around, just tell her you’re sorry you didn’t fix her daughter’s hair as she was expecting it to be fixed.”

      “I will not apologize for styling that girl’s hair in a flattering, appropriate manner.”

      “Okay, then, but you might expect complaints about these unfamiliar styles. People might thing they’re too…mature.”

      “That’s absurd.” Scarlett picked up one of the magazines and turned to a section СКАЧАТЬ