Page 10 of Trusting the Fall
Her face pales, eyes flaring wide. “How do you know that?”
“I noticed you three chatting at the bar. They seemed familiar with each other, so I asked him if your dude was kosher, and he told me it was his brother and that you would be looked after.” I lean my elbows on the bench, perching my chin in my clasped hands. “You’ve yet to confirm those details, by the way.”
Finally, a genuine smile graces her face as she describes every moment of her night spent with what seems like a very dedicated man.
It’s good she found someone to relax with, even if it was just for one night. But with every excited word, I’m left thinking about the man who spent the night in my bed. One night was not enough.
He was insatiable, and I was all too eager to serve him my moans of agreement. He was utterly addicting. And that seems to be a dangerous trait for the Pryor women.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Parlour Tricks Beauty - Wall Framing
Dear Mr Connors,
Thank you for enlightening me on the state of my salon. I will ensure I have the appropriate safety wear when I visit.
Sincerely,
Claire Pryor
OWNER, Parlour Tricks Beauty
4
Itrademysneakersfor pink work boots, then load up my pen, notebook and thermos in one hand and make my way through the carpark.
The internal wall frames were finished this week, and the electricians should have been there today to start the first fix works.
For the last few weeks, the space has just been one big room, so I’m excited to walk through it with actual walls now.
I still work full-time at the beauty salon down the road from my and Lex’s little beach house. That’s why it’s usually near quitting time for the tradies on my site by the time I’m able to come and see the progress. Despite the owner being a complete tool, no pun intended, my site supervisor, Westley, is a total sweetheart.
I can hear heavy rock coming through the open back door and nod my head to a few guys passing in their Connors Construction T-shirts.
The pungent smell of glue and raw timber fills my nose, but right before I can cross the threshold, Westley comes barrelling through with an armload of offcut wood.
“Hey, Claire. Come to check on your baby?” he asks.
See, this guy gets it. Unlike his overbearing boss. This is my baby. Every decision matters.
“Well, I heard the wall framing was done, so I couldn’t help but come see for myself.”
“Yeah, let’s go check her out.”
He leaves the wood by the door and leads me to what will become my staffroom. I had planned for my beauty classroom to be in this spot, but both my architect and Westley’s boss eventually convinced me to swap the two rooms. I guess it made more sense to have the staffroom at the rear of the building.
I’m still salty over it, but as I take in the new space, my irritation ebbs.
It will be a decent size, with room for a little kitchenette and table, plus a cute little handbag hub. That’s how Tristan, my architect, described it. Basically, it’s a glory wall for everyone to hang their handbags with old school lockers underneath, and a bench top to put valuables. He said we could get them sprayed pink, and I was sold.
“We’re just cutting up the door trims and skirting while the electricians and plumber finish, and then the gyprockers will start next Monday to get your wall and new ceiling panels installed.”
I know there’s the dorkiest grin on my face as Westley leads me into the hallway to see the next rooms.
I poke my head into the storage room where there’s a guy on a ladder messing with wires in the ceiling.
