was the last thing on his mind. It was absurd that Gram had even thought to arrange it.
He stood abruptly. “No,” he said in a clipped tone. “Thanks,” he remembered to say, just to pretend that he was still human. He took a step to make his getaway, but she jumped in front of him.
He blinked, shocked. He was even more shocked when she placed her palm on his chest. His top two buttons were undone, and her palm landed partially on his bare skin.
He stopped short. Her eyes widened as if she was shocked at herself, too. At her own audacity.
He stared directly into her eyes. She was shorter than him by a few inches. Her skin was almost translucent and looked as smooth as porcelain, like a doll’s. She had long auburn hair pulled back from her forehead. Every emotion played clearly across her dainty features, and at the moment she appeared terrified of him. Her hazel eyes were round, the pupils slightly dilated.
Something about that made him pause. He wasn’t a monster, and...she seemed so vulnerable. He’d thought he was a mess these past months, but she didn’t seem as if all was well with her, either.
He gave her some space, waiting for her to speak.
Swallowing, she removed her hand from his chest, but held his gaze. Aidan had been told that he didn’t have the best bedside manner in the world. He’d never cared before.
“My son is a cancer survivor,” she explained hesitantly. “Childhood leukemia.”
She had a son? He didn’t know why, but this surprised him.
“What’s your name again?” he asked her.
“Ashley.”
“And your son?”
She swallowed. “Brandon. He...wants to be a doctor when he grows up.”
He crossed his arms. His whole damn life he’d been expected to become a doctor, like the rest of his family. “Okay.”
“And...” She bit her lip. Those vulnerable hazel eyes still desperately latched on to his. “What’s your name?”
Dr. Lowe, he almost automatically said. But now that he was home, he wasn’t going to be a doctor anymore. “Aidan,” he answered.
“Well, Dr. Aidan, my son wants to become a cancer doctor to children—an oncologist—to help other kids the way he’s been helped. He still visits the hospital—he wants it so badly. He got the opportunity to attend a private school here in Boston, close by, and we’ve just uprooted ourselves and relocated to this neighborhood so that he could take advantage of the scholarship. This week is, well...it’s his first week in his new school and my first week in a new job.”
In his fogged mind, he put two and two together. “You’ve been ordered to cut my hair, haven’t you?”
She had the grace to laugh at their predicament. “Silly, isn’t it?”
The fact that his grandmother was ordering people to cut his hair was out of character, for sure. But he didn’t think it was a sign of dementia. The fact that he even had to consider that his grandmother could have dementia gave him a small moment of sadness.
“I’ll take good care of you,” Ashley said quickly. “I promise I’ll make it as fast and painless as possible. No chatter.” She smiled at him, putting her finger to her lips.
He stared back, determined not to look at those lips. They were tempting, and he didn’t want to be tempted.
“I’m sort of debriefing,” he said. He felt a sudden wave of anger and pain, and he almost faltered on his feet. He was very much debriefing.
And he doubted that even standing here talking to her was a good idea.
* * *
ASHLEY WAS BEFUDDLED as she watched the look on Aidan’s face move from wariness and confusion to anger. But there was no mistaking his feelings, because with a grimace of pain and a short shake of his head, he stood and walked away.
Without even pausing. Without even looking back at her.
She froze for a moment, her heart sinking, staring at Aidan’s retreating back. With a defiant gesture, he raked his hand once through his wild tangle of dark curls, as if he couldn’t have bothered about anyone in the salon, and then he opened the street door and left. Not a backward glance.
Ashley stood, shaking, her mouth opening and closing, debating what she should do. To do nothing was not an option—her new life depended on her doing something. Ilana would at some point want an account of what had happened, and if she decided that Ashley had been in the wrong—that she’d angered a client’s grandson and failed to sweet-talk him into going along with his grandmother’s wishes, then Ashley’s employment would be jeopardized, fair or not.
She couldn’t let that happen. How to fix it?
Maybe, to start, she should figure out what he’d meant by debriefing. That seemed the key to it.
She whirled for someone to ask about him. Kylie was seated at her receptionist station behind the front desk. She wore a headset and a wide-eyed expression, as if she couldn’t believe that Ashley had dared to touch a client’s chest. Ashley barely believed it herself. The thin cotton shirt he wore was no barrier. His skin had been hot—warm with pulsing blood that beat beneath a layer of muscles. She had been fascinated and scared, but also self-conscious and somewhat horrified that she’d been so tacky as to attempt to physically stop a customer from leaving.
Ashley placed her palms on Kylie’s desk. “What do you think is going on with that guy?” she whispered.
Kylie’s wide-eyed look came back. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe something happened before he flew home, at Doctor’s Aid? Could we go over everything his grandmother said this afternoon? Each word? Maybe there’s a clue.”
“Um, okay.” Kylie knocked at her teeth with a pen. “Well, his grandmother said that they came directly from the airport. Then they were going to lunch together, at a restaurant by the Aquarium, and she wanted him to get a haircut while she had her regular appointment.” Kylie smiled to herself. “I can see why. He really needs it.”
“Did she say anything else?” Ashley prodded.
Kylie scratched her head. “Well, Ilana walked over and looked in the appointment app and said, ‘Ashley is free.’ Then she told me to go get you and tell you that you had a walk-in. And I did.” Kylie looked up at Ashley with liquid brown eyes.
Ashley smiled reassuringly at her. “You did well.” Honestly, if she owned a salon—her dream business—she would never terrorize her employees. She would be pleasant to them all the time.
Sighing, she ran over her conversation with Aidan again in her mind. “Kylie, he asked if I’d noticed a change in his grandmother. Do you know what he meant by that?”
“Um...” With a bewildered look, Kylie turned to the computer screen that showed their bookings. Ashley gazed over her shoulder.
“Vivian Sharpe!” Ashley exclaimed, reading the entry
