Beneath the Scars

I threw my napkin down, shoving my plate so hard, my wineglass tipped over. Luckily, it was empty, but the noise drew both their gazes toward me. “Could the two of you try, please? For me?”

Karen’s eyebrow rose as I addressed her. “Why don’t you ask him about his paintings, or his photography?” I waved my hand around the room. “He took most of these photos.” I pointed to the mantle. “That painting? That’s the one I saw the day in the gallery before we met.” My voice softened as I smiled at Zachary. “I fell in love with him because of that painting.”

He ducked his head with a shy grin on his face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. His smile fell when I shook my head at him. “And you. Karen is my best friend. She asks a lot of questions, all the time—it’s not only you. You have a voice—a lovely one, in fact. Use it. Answer her—maybe even ask her a few questions. The two of you might be surprised how much you have in common.” I stood up, taking my plate. “You both love me, maybe that’s a good place to start.” Spinning on my heels, I walked into the kitchen, slamming my plate down and grabbing the coffee pot.

“Well, I guess we were told,” Zachary’s voice drawled from the dining room.

“You are rude,” Karen retorted.

“Right back at you, lady. You’re exactly like the women I dealt with all my life. Bitchy.”

I groaned, my head falling into my hands. They were both impossible.

To my surprise, Karen chuckled. “That’s my cover. Owning my own business, I have to be a bitch at times. And I kind of like being a bad-ass.”

There was a pause before Zachary spoke again. “Is it a hard thing, owning your own place?”

I straightened up. That was the first real question Zachary had asked all night.

“At times. Suppliers, landlords, staff, maintenance. There’re times I wish I was simply a hair dresser again, and not running the place.”

“Megan is a customer of yours?”

“Yes, that’s how we met. We got to talking and became friends.” She paused. “I love her like a sister.”

Zachary was quiet, his voice warmer when he spoke. “I love her, too.”

“You better not hurt her.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t. It’s that simple. I can’t let her be hurt again. That asshole did a number on her.”

“I’d be glad to take him to task for that.”

“I’d join you.”

I heard their wineglasses clink and like an idiot, I clasped my hands together in a silent sign of glee, waiting to see how they proceeded.

“If your customers look half as good as she does when they leave your place, you must be very good at your job.”

“I am good.”

“Modest as well, I see.”

“I call it how I see it.”

I rolled my eyes.

At least they were talking.* * *Karen stretched and stood up from the table. “I’m off very early, so I’m heading home.” She glanced at me. “Should I say goodbye now?”

Unsure how to answer, I hesitated. In truth, I knew I should go and stay the night with her since she had driven up here, but I really didn’t want to leave Zachary alone.

I was surprised when Zachary spoke up before I could answer. “I’ll walk her over later. I’ll make sure she gets there safe.”

Karen pursed her lips, her voice almost teasing. “What about me, Zachary? Don’t you want to make sure I get there safe? Or is Megan the only one you think some sea monster is going to attack?”

Zachary leaned back, a small grin playing on his lips. “I think you could probably handle a sea monster your own bad-ass self, Karen, but if you like, I’m happy to walk you home.” Then he smirked at her.

Smirked.

I thought my jaw was going to hit the floor. They sounded almost…friendly.

Karen’s eyebrow arched—a look I knew all too well. “You don’t think Megan could handle a sea monster?”

Zachary’s voice sent shivers through my spine. “She could—but she doesn’t have to. That’s my job now.”

Karen blinked, looked at me, then blinked again.

“Well, then, I guess there’s nothing else to say.”

She stopped at the door. “Are you sure you won’t come back with me tomorrow, Megan? You really have to stay?”

Beside me, Zachary froze. I closed my eyes, inwardly cursing. I hadn’t yet talked to him about me going back to Boston. We’d barely managed to get dressed before Karen arrived for dinner.

Slowly, he unfurled himself from the sofa, his voice quiet when he spoke. “Are you certain, Megan? I’m sure whatever is keeping you here can’t be that important if you’re ready to return to Boston.”

I stood up, my heart sinking at his words. He thought I was leaving him. Looking past him, I smiled at Karen, struggling to remain calm. “I’m sure. I’ll only be in Boston a few days when I come, and I don’t have that meeting set up.”