I exchange a look with Harper.
“I’m sorry,” Lorene says. “I’m late, aren’t I?”
Her cheeks huff and puff like it’s taken all her might to get up the stairs and to the door. There’s a purplish mark on the top of her hand that is reminiscent of the one I got when I slammed mine with a hammer.
A purse dangles from her arm. It trembles as she leans against the door. “One of these days, I’m going to remember I’m ninety years old and not the spring chicken I think I am.”
“What do you mean, that you’re no spring chicken? You don’t look a day over twenty.” I toss her a wink as I take her arm and steady her. “You okay?”
She pats my arm. Her hands are cold, the veins a striking blue against her pale skin. “I’m better now. Thank you, Penn.”
Harper wags a finger my way. “Don’t you get any ideas with Lorene, Penn Etling.”
Lorene downright beams. “You let him have all the ideas he wants.” She adjusts her grip on my arm, squeezing it tighter as she gazes up at me. “Would you help me get over to the chair?”
“Absolutely.”
I guide her across the room and ease her into Harper’s chair. She groans as she gets situated with her little green purse on her lap. Harper’s eyes meet mine over the top of Lorene’s head.
“Oh, dear,” Lorene says, squinting to see the calendar on the wall. “I think I have the wrong day. It’s not Wednesday, is it? I’m all messed up.” She raises a shaky hand to her temple. “Dogwood Day isn’t this week, either, is it?”
“No. It’s in a couple of weeks,” Harper says gently. “We all get a little mixed up sometimes. It’s okay.”
“I got in a hurry this morning for nothing,” Lorene says.
“Not true,” I say. “I think Harper just had a cancellation. You just sit back and get pampered a little bit. I bet that’ll clear your head right up.”
Harper mouths a thank-you and motions for me to follow her. “I’ll be right back, Lorene,” she says.
We walk to the side near where she keeps her supplies. That’s also by the mini fridge, where I happen to know she keeps the best Popsicles for her younger clientele . . . and me. She even keeps extra grape ones for me, I think.
“Look at you being all chivalrous,” Harper whispers.
“I’m a sucker for old ladies. What can I say?”
A bright smile inches across her face. Her head cocks to the side. “If you want to reschedule, we can. Or you could ask Avery to cut your hair.”
I perk up. “Harper, you’re a fucking genius.”
“It’s been said.”
My head whips to the doorway only milliseconds before Avery walks through it. Her eyes instantly meet mine. My jaw goes slack again. I’m well aware of it before Harper’s elbow digs into my ribs.
Avery gathers her dark locks and piles them on top of her head. As she twists a rubber band around her hair, she never drops her eyes from mine. I don’t look away. I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to—and I don’t. I really fucking don’t.
I shift in my sneakers, trying to subtly adjust myself without her noticing. A smile tickles the side of her lips—full, kissable, cherry-tinted lips that I have all sorts of ideas how to occupy. As if she can read my mind, she laughs.
“Avery?” Harper calls out. “Is there any way you can fit Penn in right now?”
“I can make it fit—ouch!” I mumble under my breath as I take yet another elbow from Harper.
Avery looks at Harper, then at me for a lingering second, and then back to her boss. “It’s my first day. Clearly, I have an opening.”
“I—”
“Don’t you dare,” Harper whispers. She clears her throat. “Great. Thanks. It’ll help me out.”
Avery casts me a glance that tells me she thinks I put Harper up to this. I’m relieved to see she doesn’t look pissed about that possibility, because even though it’s not true, I’m not mad about it. Not even a little bit. In fact, I might owe Harper a favor for this one.
“Is this because of me?” Lorene asks. “I don’t want to mess up your schedule—”
“Lorene,” I say, “trust me when I say this is working out just like it’s supposed to.”
“Well, all right then,” Lorene says. “I won’t worry about it.”
Avery raises a brow.
I grin.
She rolls her eyes and picks up her apron. It slips around her slim neck. Like she knows I’m an ass man, she turns away and ties the apron around her waist. The tie drops on top of a perfect, peach-shaped behind.
Harper laughs as she walks my way. She doesn’t say anything until she’s right beside me, where only I can hear her. “Penn Etling is flustered. What will Matt say about this?”