Sugar Daddy by Lisa Kleypas

Author:Lisa Kleypas [Kleypas, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, General, Contemporary, Fiction, Texas, Love Stories
ISBN: 0312351623
Google: BV-tOxiqY1YC
Amazon: B00150GHRE
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2006-01-02T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

After four years, I had finally become a full-fledged stylist at Salon One. Most of my work was as a colorist--I had a talent for highlights and corrections. I loved mixing liquids and pastes in a multitude of small bowls like a mad scientist. I enjoyed the myriad small but critical calculations of heat, timing, and application, and the satisfaction of getting everything just right.

Churchill still went to Zenko for his cuts, but I did his neck and eyebrow trims, and I did his manicures whenever he wanted them. And there were the infrequent lunches when one of us had something to celebrate. When we were together, we talked about anything and everything. I knew a lot about Churchill's family, particularly his four children. There was Gage, the oldest at thirty, whom he'd had by his first wife, Joanna. The other three he'd had with Ava: Jack, who was twenty-five, Joe, who was two years younger, and the only daughter, Haven, who was still in college. I knew Gage had become reserved since he had

lost his mother at the age of three, and that he had a hard time trusting people, and one of his past girlfriends had said he had commitment phobia. Being unacquainted with psychospeak. Churchill didn't know what that meant.

"It means he won't talk about his feelings," I explained, "or allow himself to be vulnerable. And he's afraid of being tied down."

Churchill looked baffled. "That's not commitment phobia. That's being a man."

We discussed his other children too. Jack was an athlete and a ladies' man. Joe was an information junkie and an adventurer. The youngest, Haven, had insisted on going to college in New England, no matter how much Churchill begged her to consider Rice or UT. or even, God help him, A&M.

I told Churchill the latest news about Carrington, and sometimes about my love life. I had confided in him about Hardy and how he haunted me. Hardy was every loose-limbed cowboy in worn denim, every pair of blue eyes, every battered pickup, every hot cloudless day.

Maybe, Churchill had pointed out, I should stop trying so hard not to love Hardy, and accept that some part of me might always want him. "Some things," he said, "you just have to learn to live with."

"But you can't love someone new without getting over the last one."

"Why not11"

"Because then the new relationship is compromised."

Seeming amused, Churchill said that every relationship was compromised in one way or another, and you were better off not picking at the edges of it.

I disagreed. I felt I needed to let Hardy go completely. I just didn't know how. I hoped someday I might meet someone so compelling that I could take the risk of loving again. But I had serious doubts such a man existed.

And that man was certainly not Tom Hudson, whom I'd met while waiting for a parent-teacher conference in a hallway at Carrington's school. He was a divorced father of two. a big teddy bear of a man with brown hair and a neatly trimmed brown beard.

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