Free Safe in the Fireman's Arms by Tina Radcliffe Page B

is my first time at a salon.”
    Sally-Anne choked. “Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”
    “No,” Maggie murmured. She kept her eyes fixed on the laces of her sneakers as they peeked out from beneath the cape.
    “You’re staying with the Joneses?”
    “I’m staying at Susan’s cottage.”
    “And you’ll be teaching at the high school in the fall?”
    Maggie’s head jerked back. “How did you know about the job? I haven’t even interviewed yet.”
    With a fingertip, Sally-Anne tilted Maggie’s head to the left. “Try not to move or you’ll end up with a très chic pixie cut.”
    “But—”
    “This is Paradise. The grapevine is faster than a text message.”
    “Terrific.”
    “How long have you known Jake?” she inquired as her thin, tapered, silver scissors snipped, snipped, snipped.
    “Seven days.”
    She stopped cutting. “Seven days?” Sally-Anne gave Maggie an intense scrutiny in the mirror. “And you won a date with two hundred tickets?”
    “One hundred and forty-seven, and it was Susan.”
    The scissors began again. Sally-Anne moved around Maggie, her eyes narrowed and her brows knit in thought as she worked.
    A few minutes later the snipping stopped once more.
    “He’s widowed, you know.”
    The shoulders of the black plastic cape rustled as Maggie straightened in the chair. She met Sally’s eyes in the mirror.
    “Our chief is a tortured soul.”
    “I didn’t know,” Maggie murmured.
    The blow dryer began, its white noise blocking out everything else.
    Jake was widowed? Maggie sat stunned at the information. The pain she’d read in his eyes was real. He had loved and suffered the worst imaginable loss. Didn’t she feel like a horrible human being for how she’d jumped to so very many thoughtless conclusions about the man?
    Oh, Lord, please forgive me and my big mouth. I’ll be nicer to Jake from now on.
    If only he wouldn’t goad her. He seemed to know how to push all her buttons and he enjoyed doing it, too.
    Sally-Anne circled the chair, repositioning Maggie’s head with a touch of her hand.
    “What do you think?” Sally-Anne asked.
    Maggie looked up in time to see Susan’s grinning face reflected in the mirror.
    “You look amazing, Mags.”
    With a small hand mirror, Maggie examined herself from several angles. Sally Anne was a gifted stylist. The cut flattered. Strands of caramel and golden brown hair danced on her shoulders, with wispy layers and bangs framing her face. Oh, yes. She had to admit the change was amazing.
    “Do you think I can get it to do this by myself?”
    “Of course. Let me recommend a line of shampoo, conditioner and style extender. Also a nice ceramic brush.” Sally-Anne reached for the supplies and placed them on the counter.
    The register sang joyfully, as it tallied up the purchases. Maggie gulped as her budget flat-lined. Except when she looked at the receipt she’d only been charged for the brush, and hair products.
    “This is incorrect. You undercharged me,” she said.
    Sally-Anne waved a hand in dismissal. “Professional courtesy. Your cousin is a member of the Paradise Small Business Association with me. Besides, your hair is the best word-of-mouth advertisement I could ever hope for.”
    “Thank you, so much,” Maggie said.
    “Thank you. Remember a good haircut is like a good marriage. You do your part, and I do mine.”
    “I’m not sure I can live up to my end of this...marriage. I haven’t looked this good in my entire life.” Maggie stared at herself in the mirror behind the counter. She swung her head and the layers moved and then settled in attractive disarray.
    “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You had the basic resources to start with.”
    “No. It’s all you, Sally-Anne. You’re an artist.”
    Sally-Anne purred. “Now I know why Jake likes you. You’re nice, even if you are breaking the heart of every woman in Paradise who is in love with Jake MacLaughlin.”
    “No. No. Jake and I... He doesn’t.”
    “No