"You don't have clients today?"
"My next client isn't ‘til six. If you had seen any of my texts, you would know that I wanted to spend this afternoon together if you were free." I shifted in my seat, guilty.
"I'm sorry."
"Good. You can make up for it by going upstairs, getting dressed, and letting me do your hair."
"It would be nice to have my nails done," I mused, and I liked being in Kasey's chair. It was always nice to see what she came up with.
"Then hurry it up!" she said, hauling me up off the couch. I laughed, getting up and letting her herd me up the stairs. I was grateful for her friendship, even when she was getting in the way of me and Coach Taylor. She wasn't going to let me wallow, and I needed that. If she hadn't shown up, I would have lost more than just this one weekend to being a sloth and binge-watching marathons of canceled TV shows.
We left when I had made myself presentable enough to be seen in public and went straight to her salon. I got a manicure first, then Kasey worked her magic on my hair. My hair was blonde, and in the years Kasey had been doing it, she had only ever played with the tones, never ever given me raven black locks or anything dark. I trusted her implicitly but was happy that she had never done anything too dramatic. Since it had gotten colder, she had toned down the summery gold tones she had put in when it had been warmer and cooled it down to a more natural tone.
"Can you cut some off?" I asked as she rinsed my hair out in the bowl.
"How much is some?" she asked suspiciously.
"Just a trim off the ends, maybe graduate the layers a little more?"
"Slow down; you didn't just have a breakup," she joked. No, I hadn't, but I was here so why not. It would be for me. I wanted something a little different. I sat in her chair as she trimmed my layers and blew my hair out. The bangs were too long now to still call them that. They framed my face while the rest of my hair tumbled over my shoulders and back in a fresh blowout.
"I like your hair parted down the middle," Kasey said, fluffing it with her hands, admiring her handiwork.
"What is it? Date tonight?" another stylist, a guy named Gerard, asked casually.
"Nothing like that," I said self-consciously.
"She doesn't need my help for that," Kasey said, laughing with her colleague. I smiled as they debated how well I was able to get dates and whether Kasey’s skills raised my rating on a ten-point scale. It was friendly, and I couldn't deny that it made me feel a little good. If not good then pretty, which was nice. I ran my hands through it, feeling pleased with myself. No, I hadn’t worked out or been in any way useful that day, but at least I had gotten a cute hairdo out of it. I savored it while I was still with Kasey because I had a feeling I wouldn't feel as good once I was alone again back at the house.
At least if I was going to be miserable, I'd be cute doing it. Cameron's sale paperwork was at my office at work. Brett was getting it Monday morning since that was the soonest he had been able to schedule another meeting with the stockholders. It was also the meeting where the representatives from the company that wanted to buy Cameron's stake would be present too. Thinking about it had been part of the reason for my foul mood. I couldn’t be sentimental about the family legacy of Porter Holdings if Cameron himself wasn't, but I was.
I felt almost like I had failed Grayson Porter on the one request he had made of me before he passed. I had failed at getting his son to where he wanted him to be. Whatever. I had done my job, and it wasn't my problem anymore. I'd go to work on Monday, and as soon as the sale went through, we'd see how many people were still standing by the end.
Kasey had driven me, so I took a cab back home. It was like a cloud slowly covering me out of nowhere, the gross, dark sadness that had sapped me of all my energy all day coming back the closer I got to my place. I didn't want to start crying in the cab, so I stared studiously out the window, hoping to discourage my d
river from trying to speak with me. It ended up being a long, uncomfortable drive. I got out of the car in front of my house feeling like I wouldn’t even get to the bathroom to wash my makeup off before I face-planted on the couch and turned the TV back on. I walked up to my house, rifling in my purse for my keys.
"Natalie?" I stopped short, looking up. I had completely missed him. Cameron stood up from where he had been sitting on my doorstep. It took a minute before I composed myself to walk past him, up to my door.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. My back was to him. My hand was shaking as I tried to unlock my door.
"Can I come in?"
Chapter Thirty-Five
Cameron
"I guess," she said, non-committedly, walking in. I followed her inside, looking around. She was silent as she took her boots and jacket off in the entryway, not looking at me. "Were you waiting long?"
"No, not really." I had been waiting for about fifteen minutes. After I had knocked a few times and determined she actually wasn't home and hadn't just been ignoring me, I had tried to call her. That hadn't been successful, which made me wonder now seeing her why that was. I had had to get her number and address from Brett. Shitty, I knew, because in all the time we had been talking, I had never gotten her contacts, but this thing, our thing, wasn't like others I'd had in the past.
"You didn't answer my question," she said. Her hair looked different, I noticed. She looked... not different; it was the situation that was different, not her. I had just seen her the day before, but it felt longer than that. A lot had changed since we had last talked. For me at least. I could only speak for myself.
"I wanted to see you."
"How did you know where I lived?" she asked, walking away from me through a doorway. Following her, we were in her living room. I didn't know why I had never thought about what her space would look like. I guess I had in the beginning, but she had surprised me by not turning out to be who I had thought she was. Her house wasn't big, but not really small either. The living room had a fluffy white carpet on the ground under a glass coffee table. The couches were cream, and the walls were a powdery light blue color. Pillows on the couches were blue, same as the walls, white and grey.
"I asked Brett. I tried to call you."