Debbi Rawlins - Secret Defender

Sydney bristled as she considered what Julie said. “People aren’t afraid to talk to me.”

Julie rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “If you say so.”

“They aren’t.” Sydney settled back, stewing. She tried her darnedest to be like everyone else. Willard criticized her for it, reminding her she was a Wainwright. But Julie wouldn’t lie. That was the thing Sydney liked best. Julie was a straight-talker.

It was like a miracle when she’d shown up several months ago at the salon Sydney had used for years. They’d both been surprised, but after a few awkward moments, their friendship resumed.

Meeting Julie at fifteen had been a turning point in Sydney’s life. The personal exposure to someone outside her social class had taught Syd more than her four years at Yale. It had taught her that money didn’t just mean power and privilege, but an enormous responsibility toward others.

“Okay, just a few highlights. In the back.”

Julie grinned and separated a strip of Sydney’s bangs.

Sydney sighed.

“Who’s the professional here? Just sit back and tell me about that hunky brother of yours.”

Sydney couldn’t help but smile. After blossoming at sixteen, Julie had always gotten any guy she wanted, and she did it with such relish. “Tell you what. Come over for dinner Saturday night and see for yourself.”

Julie lifted a brow but kept working, inserting the piece of foil under the strands she separated. “So he’s living at the house. I take it he finally has old Willy’s stamp of approval.”

“You can’t blame Willard for checking him out. It was a little odd that Rick showed up after my dad’s death, claiming to be his illegitimate son.”

Julie wrinkled her nose. “It was kind of creepy.”

“Not creepy, just strange. Kind of convenient, with Dad not here to deny the claim, you know?” Sydney shrugged, her gaze glued to Julie’s busy hands. “But somehow I knew Rick would check out. I’m glad, too.”

“You always did have great instincts about people. What about this Jeff guy you’ve been seeing? When do I meet him?”

Sydney groaned. “You’re starting to sound like Willard. I’ll make sure they’re both there on Saturday.”

“Will Willy be there, too?”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Sit still before you make me spill this stuff.” Julie gave her hair a small yank. “He really doesn’t like me. Never has, and after I started working here, he had me checked out, too.”

Sydney gasped. “I don’t believe that.”

“Sit still, dammit.”

“Ouch! Quit yanking so hard.”

“Then stop moving.”

Sydney twisted around in the chair to look Julie in the eyes. “Why do you think he had you checked out?”

A sly smile curved her ruby-tinted lips. “Because I screwed the detective he hired.”

Sydney blinked. “You’re making this up.”

Julie put her hands on either side of Sydney’s head and forced her to face the mirror again. “I am not. Ask Willard. But, God, don’t tell him I slept with the guy or he’ll hire someone else and I’ll have to go through it all over again.”

Sydney stared at her reflection in simmering silence. Willard had always been overprotective, but spying on her friends pushed the limit of Sydney’s patience. She ought to pack up and move to New York. Out of his sight. Away from the Wainwright name.

“I shouldn’t have told you.” Julie stopped fussing with the foil squares and gave her a thoughtful frown. “Don’t blame Willard. It really is a pretty big coincidence that I’d show up in a salon you used after all these years. Don’t you think?”

Syd quickly averted her gaze.

Julie snorted. “It’s okay. I’d be suspicious, too.”

“I’m not suspicious.” She wasn’t. “But I did wonder if you knew I’d been coming here…”

Julie shook her head. “Nope. I knew Divas had an up-scale clientele with prices to match, which meant I could make some serious dough.” She set aside the bowl and brush. “One thing I did learn from old McKenzie was how to appreciate the finer things in life. Paying for them is something else.”

Sydney was startled to hear her mention her former stepfather. Even before the divorce, speaking his name was taboo. Julie’s hatred for him had exploded so quickly that Syd had wondered if something more had been going on than Julie had revealed.

“Hey, want me to add some purple tint?” Julie asked, and Syd made a move to get out of the chair. “Only kidding. Sit still and I’ll have you out of here in under two hours.”

Sydney smiled, glad Julie had come back into her life. She needed someone quirky to offset the staidness that accompanied the Wainwright name. Someone comfortable enough to point out Syd had mousy brown hair.

They chatted nonstop for the next two hours, Syd begging unsuccessfully to face the mirror while Julie blew her hair dry.

Sydney was actually starting to get a little nervous when Julie finally said, “Voila, check out this masterpiece.”

She twirled the chair so that Sydney faced her reflection. Her hand automatically flew to her hair. “You cut it different.”

“Did I?” Julie grinned. “Faboo, isn’t it?”

Sydney stared at the unfamiliar image. Golden highlights framed her face, making her complexion look brighter. The style was artfully tousled, kind of fringed and shaggy on the side instead of her usual blunt bob. “Wow! Is that me?”

“You like?”

“I think so.”

Julie issued a sound of disgust. “It’s terrific. You’ll turn every head from here to your office.”

Right. Sydney turned from side to side, and then used the hand mirror Julie gave her. “I do look pretty sophisticated.” She leaned toward the mirror for a closer look. “You did good.”

“Yes, I did.” Julie pulled the cape off Syd. “Now, get out of my chair. I have another client and your ride is waiting.”

“My ride?” She slid off the chair and grabbed her purse.

“I had the receptionist call you a car so you wouldn’t have to take a cab.”

“And if I wanted to take a cab?”

“Tough. That’s one of those fou-fou things they do around here that makes a friggin’ haircut cost three times what it should.”

Sydney laughed and pressed some bills into Julie’s hand. Thankfully, she didn’t argue about the tip like she had the past two times. “See you for dinner on Saturday, huh?” Sydney said as she took one last look at her reflection.

“Sure.” Julie’s half shrug was noncommittal.

“I’ll make sure Willard isn’t there.”

“You look terrific. Now, get out of here.”

Julie’s next client approached, and Sydney stepped aside. She wanted to encourage Julie to come to dinner but it would be too awkward. Instead, she left to pay her bill.

A black Lincoln Town Car with tinted windows was waiting just outside the door and she quickly got in without getting her hair too mussed up. “I’m going to the Wainwright building on—”

“I know where it is.” The driver’s voice was deep and raspy and sent an odd shiver down Sydney’s spine.

She sank back against the seat and stared at the back of his dark head. He barely cleared the top of the car, which meant he had to be pretty tall. The usual white cotton shirt most drivers wore stretched across his broad shoulders. His hair was long, a little too long, enough to make a ponytail, she guessed. Not that it mattered but…

“Excuse me.” She snapped out of her daydreaming and squinted out the window. They were on the freeway. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“No, we’re not,” he said in that deep husky voice.

And then she heard the definitive click of all four locks engaging.