Until Jax Page 14

“Yes, I’m Ellie. Lilly sent me,” I say, and her face goes soft, seeming to make her even more beautiful.

“I’m Kimberly, but everyone calls me Kim. It’s nice to meet you. Frankie’s with someone right now, but if you give him five, he’ll be done.”

“No problem.” I smile, taking a seat on the couch.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” she says, catching me off guard. “Frankie filled us in on what went down, and then I saw the news report. I hope they catch the other guy. Have you heard anything?”

“Um, no, not yet,” I say, feeling a chill slide over me. I don’t want to think about him still being alive, or the fact I could still be in danger.

“I’m sure they’ll catch him.”

“I hope so,” I reply then think about Jax, and something deep within me knows he will make certain Hope and I are safe.

“You’re going to love it here. Frankie’s the best, and Mickey, Ian, and Kendal are all really great too.”

“Have you been here long?” I ask, jumping on her change of subject.

“I just moved into town a month ago, and this was the first place I stopped.” She shrugs, but I still catch something flash through her eyes before its gone.

“Are you a stylist?”

“Yep, and we all work the front desk between clients, except weekends. Then Becka comes in to help out, ’cause we’re all normally booked.”

“Cool,” I mutter, watching a woman a few years older than me walk toward the front. She’s stunning, with big green eyes that stand out against her dark, almost-black hair and pale skin. Her eyes scan over me and her lip curls up at the corner, not a smile, but like she smells something bad as she flips her hair over her shoulder and turns, dismissing me to face the counter.

“Kim, can you take care of Mellissa for me?” I hear from behind her.

“Of course.” Kim smiles, but it’s nothing like the smile she had on earlier directed at me. I can tell it’s the kind that has been rehearsed.

“Ellie?” Pulling my gaze from Kim, I turn and come face-to-face with a very pretty man wearing jeans and a plain tee. His face is contoured with makeup, his eyebrows sharp, his lashes long, and his lips lined and glossy. Yes, very pretty.

“That’s me.” I smile as he sticks out his hand.

“Frankie. It’s so nice to meet you,” he says, smiling back.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Why don’t we go back to my office and sit down for a few minutes.”

“Sure,” I reply, and he places his hand at the small of my back, leading me through the salon, which I notice has six booths, all clean and tidy with dividers between, offering a little bit of privacy for the stylist and their clients. When we reach his office, he takes a seat in a hot pink chair behind a white desk with a mirrored top. Sitting across from him in one of the two stylish turquois chairs, I cross one leg over the other.

“So, tell me about yourself and your experience,” he asks casually.

Leaning back in the chair, I do just that. I tell him about myself and what has happened to make me move to Tennessee. I tell him about my experience as a stylist and what I want for Hope’s and my future. I tell him everything, and when it’s over, I feel like I have just spent an hour with a psychologist, rather than twenty minutes applying for a job.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” he asks, causing visions of Hope and me living with Jax in his castle in our own happily ever after to fill my brain. “Do you have any goals?”

Clearing my throat and the vision of me with Jax and Hope out of my head, I say, “Yes, I see myself with my own salon or managing one. I see myself and my daughter in a nice house I provide for us. I see a different childhood for her than the one I was raised with, and a much brighter future.”

“I see that for you too, girly,” Frankie says softly, sitting forward in his chair. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Wait, what?” I ask.

“Take the weekend and get things sorted with your daughter, and I’ll see you Monday.”

“So I have the job?” I ask, just to clarify.

“Girly, you already knew you had the job. You just proved you’re worthy of working here.”

“Awesome,” I breathe, standing when he does.

“See you Monday, Ellie, and tell Lilly I said hi.”

“I will,” I promise with a smile, heading out of his office, feeling better than I have in a long time. When I reach the car, Lilly is standing with Hope on her hip, who’s wearing a purple tutu she didn’t have on earlier. She’s talking to Mellissa, the not-so-nice girl from the salon.

“Oh, there she is,” Lilly says as I get close enough for Hope to move from her grasp to mine. “How did it go, honey?”

“Really great, I start Monday.” I grin and then turn when I feel eyes drilling into me from my side, where Mellissa is standing. “Sorry, I’m Ellie,” I introduce myself.

“Mellissa,” she says then looks at Lilly. “Tell Jax I love him and to call or come over whenever he has a few minutes,” she says as something ugly crawls over my skin.

“Sure.” Lilly frowns.

“Thanks, Mrs. Mayson, and nice to meet you, Ella,” she says, turning on her heels and walking away before I have a chance to reply or correct her about my name.

“I’m hungry,” Hope says, and I look at my daughter and kiss her cheek, knowing she is the reason I’m doing what I’m doing and that I need to remember that.

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