My phone rang for what seemed like forever before I could find it at the bottom of my purse. The ringer was turned up and the purse wasn't all that big, so I should have had no trouble, but somehow it was almost impossible to locate my phone.

I had been walking on the sidewalk headed from my apartment to the salon where I worked. It was roughly a half a mile from door to door, and I didn't always walk, but it was a beautiful day, and I wanted to get some fresh air. I had planned on ignoring my phone while I was walking, but the caller was persistent, so I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to see who it was. Depending on the caller, I would either pick it up and talk or silence my ringer—either way, my phone needed to be quiet.

I could see, as I looked down at the screen, that I missed three calls from my cousin, Charlotte, who lived in California. I stood there and stared at the phone for a few seconds, half-expecting her to call again while I was holding it. Instead, a notification flashed across the screen saying she had left me a voicemail.

Without even listening to it, I pressed the button to call her back. I put the phone to my ear as I began walking again. Charlotte picked up after one ring.

"Did you get my message?" she asked as her greeting.

"No, I called you right back without listening. What's up? Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. What are you doing?"

"I'm walking back to work."

"From what?" she asked.

"I went home to eat lunch, and now I'm headed back." I stepped to the side to let a guy walk by with his dog. "Why'd you call three times?"

It was especially odd since texting was the way I communicated with just about everyone in my family, even my parents and grandma. My mom called me every once in a while, but she was really the only one.

"I wanted you to know Nico's coming with us next week." Charlotte said on the other end.

"What?" I asked, as if I hadn't heard what she said. Truth was, I had heard her loud and clear, but I didn't know how to respond right away.

"Logan asked Nico to come. I thought you'd want to know."

"Oh," I said, casually. "Thanks for letting me know, but I don't really care about that." For some reason, I found myself feeling a little short of breath as I finished that sentence, so I slowed my pace.

"Okay," she said. "I just wanted to let you know as soon as I found out. I knew it had been a while since you saw him. I don't think he's been to Myrtle Beach the last few years."

"Yeah, but he came with us on the Africa trip last year," I said as I skirted past an older couple who were strolling along the sidewalk. We exchanged smiles as I went around them.

"Oh, I forgot about that," she said.

"You were a little distracted," I said, since she was a little preoccupied with meeting her prince charming at the time.

"For some reason, I thought it had been a few years since you saw him, and I remember how you used to—"

I cut her off. "I saw him last year in Africa, but it doesn't really matter anyway. I haven't thought of him like that in a long time."

"So, you're saying you wouldn't have cared whether or not I warned you he was coming with us?" she asked.

"I didn't say that. I'm glad you told me and everything. But now that you have, I can honestly say it doesn't really matter."
Why did I feel the need use the word "honestly" when something wasn't quite true? I was a terrible liar, and I was sure Charlotte could see right through me.

"Don't act like you don't care," she said with a smile in her voice.

"I
don't
care," I said, trying to talk myself into it. "Nothing really even happened between us, and what did happen was a long time ago."

"Fair enough," she said. "I just wanted to let you know in case you changed your mind about caring." Then she added, "I'm excited about seeing you soon!"

"Me too!" I said. "I can't wait."

I was about to say the appropriate things to end the conversation, but I changed my mind, opting to mention another guy in an effort to reiterate that I didn’t care about Nico.

"I talked to Travis," I said.

Travis Gwinn was a rich, eligible bachelor who lived in Myrtle Beach, not far from our family's beach house. He and I met a couple of years before and had been in touch a little bit since then. We got along, and had actually exchanged a few cheek-kisses and other flirty things like that, but neither of us felt compelled to start a real relationship.

Maybe it was unnecessary information, but I was telling Charlotte the truth by saying I had spoken to Travis. Knowing that our family always came to the beach house in June, he got in touch with me to make sure I knew we were invited to come by his house while we were there. He didn't say he was having an official party, but he did say he was planning on having a few people over. I told him it sounded fun, and that he could count on me (and most likely a few of my cousins) to be there.

This information really wouldn't matter to Charlotte. I hadn't even planned on mentioning it to her. I only brought it up to drive home the fact that I didn't care about Nico.

"You did?" she asked, sounding sweetly interested. "What'd he say?"

"He said we were invited to his place next weekend."

"Is he having a party?"

"I don’t think so," I said. "At least not like the one he had that other time. He just said he was having a few people over if we wanted to stop by."

"That'll be fun," Charlotte. "Cub's not gonna know what to think about his house."

I laughed at the thought. Charlotte's new husband had spent most of his life in Kenya. He had been in the states for less than a year and was still getting used to all of our creature comforts. My cousin (Charlotte's brother), Logan, was an A-list movie star, so Cub had been exposed to a taste of the good life since he moved to California. Travis, however, was one of those rich people who liked everyone to know how rich he was. He was into technology, and always had the latest-greatest everything. I could just imagine Cub's face when he saw all of Travis's gadgets and gizmos. I was still smiling at the thought as I looked up and saw the sign for Special Blend Salon and Spa.

"I'm at work," I said, opening the door.

"I'll talk to you later," she said. "Tell Paige I said 'hi'… and I'll see you in like two days!"

"I know!" I said, smiling as I stepped into the reception area. "Love you."

"Love you, too," she said.

I didn't even have time to drop my phone back into my purse before Paige said, "She sent me another picture."

I made eye contact with her as I headed to the reception counter, and she cringed when she saw I was holding my phone as if she was sorry for speaking to me without noticing.

"I'm off the phone," I said, dropping it into my bag. The wind had been blowing outside, and I took a second to run a hand through my long, dark hair as I crossed to the counter where Paige was standing.

I knew exactly who she was talking about when she said someone sent another picture. We had a bridezilla on our hands. We worked with a lot of brides, and I didn't use the term lightly, but this girl was especially feisty.

Let me back up a little.

I graduated college with a degree in marketing and a minor in graphic design. I started out at the family stonemasonry business, but eight months ago, I formed a partnership with my brother's wife and helped her open a salon. I did a ton of research on marketing salon services, and so far the business was a success. I still worked for the family stonemasonry business part time, but the salon was my main focus.

Paige and her small team of stylists were an easy sell once I got the customers to come through the door. Paige hadn't been in the industry all that long, and she had stopped for a few weeks to have a baby after we opened, but she was a natural at up-do's, and was already making a name for herself. She was known for loose but intricate hairstyles that all the brides and prom-goers wanted. She did the hairstyles everyone pinned on Pinterest and posted on Instagram. In fact, she already had quite a following on social media for time-elapsed videos of her hair-styling techniques.

She did cuts and color as well, but her specialty was up-do's. Right now, it was wedding season, so it seemed like there was always some bridal party or another in the salon—either getting styled or having a consultation. If they had a lot of money, and were willing to pay it, Paige would go to the wedding and style hair on site, but most of the time, she worked from the salon.

The woman she was talking about when I walked in had already changed her mind about her hair at least eight times. Paige's statement about her sending another picture didn't take me by surprise.

"The wedding's tomorrow," I said.

Paige rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What's it look like?" I asked.

"It's back to the one she wanted like the second or third time she changed her mind. The one with the twists and flowers."

"I thought she said that one wouldn't go with her veil."

Paige let out a sigh. "I don't even remember what she said. It's not even one of the ones we did a test run on, but she's adamant about it."

I laughed. "I'm sure she is," I said, since that girl was adamant about everything. "It'll all be over after tomorrow," I added. "And then we have a week to do nothing but bury our toes in the sand.

"I can't wait," Paige said. "I'm so glad the Myrtle Beach trip falls right in the middle of wedding season. The timing's perfect."

"Dee-dee knows what she's doing making us drop everything to go there every year," I said. "We all feel better after doing nothing but chilling with each other for a week."

"No kidding," she said, staring past me as if remembering past trips with fondness.

"How many will this be for you?" I asked.

"It'll be my third."

"But it'll be Isabel's first," I said, smiling as I thought about my new little niece. Paige and my brother found out during the last trip that they were expecting, so Isabel was roughly three months old now.

"It'll be Izzy's first," she said, grinning.

"First we have to get through tomorrow," I said.

She smiled and let her shoulders slump. "First we have to get through tomorrow," she agreed.

It was going to be an epic Saturday morning here (with two separate bridal parties taking the place over) followed by a trip to a church where we'd deal with the bridezilla to cap off the evening.

I was a big part of things around there in spite of the fact that I wasn't a stylist. When it came to weddings, an assistant was an essential part of the process, so I stepped in where needed. My job didn't stop with marketing and retail, and I was forever holding, and tucking, and refilling, and pinning, and spraying, and sweeping for Paige and the other stylists. I would very much be a part of the shop's hectic day tomorrow, but it would ultimately be fun (regardless of the difficult bride), and we both knew it.

We had a receptionist named Amanda who was apparently on her lunch break. I figured Paige was covering the desk until I got back, so I sat in Amanda's chair and looked up at Paige, who was leaning on the desktop.

"Mrs. Nixon's running late again," she said. "Next time, we just need to tell her fifteen minutes earlier than we schedule her.

I glanced at the computer screen, to find that Paige's next appointment was already ten minutes late. "She better not show up late carrying a Starbucks," I said.

"She better bring me one if she does," Paige said.

"Is it gonna put you behind?" I asked, glancing at the screen again to look at her schedule for the rest of the afternoon.

"She's my last one for the day," she said, just as I registered the same thing.

"That's good," I said. "I'll probably leave when you do. I still haven't really packed for the trip."

"I know," she said. "It'll be here before we know it."

"Especially for me," I said. "I'm heading down Sunday with Mom and Dad."

"Cody and I were planning on waiting till Monday morning, but we might head over there Sunday afternoon," she said. "I can't wait. When's the California gang getting there?"

"I think Monday afternoon. I just talked to Charlotte, and I can't even remember what she said. Maybe she didn't tell me. She just said Nico's coming with them."

That last sentence just popped out of my mouth before I could think better of it. Paige glanced at me with a quizzical expression that made me feel like I needed to explain. "Not that it matters, or anything. She just brought it up. I told her about Travis saying we should come over, and she told me that Logan was bringing one of his friends."

Paige gave me a somewhat confused look like she was on the verge of making me re-explain what I had just said, but instead she just shrugged and smiled, which was sort of what I hoped she'd do.

BOOK: Back to the Beach (Hunt Family Book 4)

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