Love Starts with Elle(56)

“You have too many secrets. Where are you going to get the money to remodel? Every one of the sinks needs to be replaced. The stations are old, the vinyl ripped.” Elle kicked loose plywood dangling from the bottom drawer of one of the cabinets. “Did you get a termite inspection?”

“You know, Elle, you’re a snob.”

She spun around. “Snob?”

“You heard me. You think you’re the only one who can run a business, do her own thing? Look at you, couldn’t even compromise on a house with Jeremiah. You had to have it your way.”

The accusation cut and Elle started to strike back, but when she saw the timidity behind her sister’s eyes, she knew Julianne needed her kindness, not justification.

“I’m sorry, Jules.”

“Elle, I know I can do this. I’ve loved doing hair as long as you’ve loved art. I’ve worked six years at Charlie’s.” Julianne slapped her hand to her heart. “It’s in here. I’m ready.”

“Jules, I don’t doubt your heart or ability. I’m just concerned about the money.” Elle glanced around the square room with a row of tall windows on each side. Beneath the dirt and grim, she imagined the salon’s former charm.

Yet cracks slithered along the plaster from the ceiling to the floor. The dry hardwood needed sanding and polishing. When Elle twisted the knob on one of the old hair dryers, it broke off in her hand. “It’s going to take money to fix all of this, get new equipment.”

Julianne jammed the knob back on the dryer. “If you must know, I used the last of my Aunt Rose inheritance, and I have a personal investor.”

“Personal investor?”

“Your enthusiasm is wearing me out, Elle. Let’s go. I need to pick up Rio.” She halted when the front door opened with a soprano squeak and Danny Simmons breezed in, tan and smiling, wearing golf shorts and an over-sized pullover.

“Is this Julianne’s Place—” His expression darkened the moment his gaze fell on Elle. “Hey, Elle.”

“Hey, Danny.” Did he expect her to believe he thought this place was open?

“I saw the cars . . . thought we had a new salon in town.” Danny roamed the room, arms akimbo, pretending to inspect the place. He stopped by the sinks and the three of them—Elle, Julianne, and Danny—stood in a triangle of silence.

“Guess this place is not quite ready for business.” His chuckle sounded hollow. “I’ll run by Charlie’s for my trim.”

Julianne gripped her hands together. “Yes, Mr. Simmons, set up an appointment at Charlie’s.” She attempted to walk him to the door, but her feet seemed glued to the floor.

“Tell your daddy we need to hit the links soon.” Danny hesitated as if he wanted to say more, then nodded at Elle and left.

“Jules, what’s going on?” Elle asked.

“Nothing. You heard him; he thought we were open for business.” Retrieving her handbag from where she’d dropped it by the painted-closed window, Julianne smacked the dust from its bottom.

“He’s married,” Elle said softly.

“Was married.” Julianne stopped pounding her purse. “She left him for another man two years ago and they were separated long before.”

“And you know that because . . .”

Roaming the length of the stylist stations, Julianne tried to tug open the top drawers, but the handle snapped off. She whimpered and threw it to the floor. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“I am happy for you, honey. I am. I’m also curious and a little scared. More for your heart than anything else.”

“My heart is safe, Elle, trust me. I know all about walls and boundaries.” A crimson hue crept along the edge of her face and neck.

“I’m not so sure Danny Simmonsis—”

Julianne’s stiff posture broke. “I love him.” The confession hung between them.

“Jules, really? How? When?”

Julianne stared out the window, arms crossed. “I ran into him one night during last summer’s Water Festival. We were both on our way to the shuttles, but we started talking and walking, next thing I knew it was three in the morning and we’d circled the city a hundred times.”

“He’s twenty years older than you, Julianne. What do you have in common?”

“Lots of things, actually.” She smiled. “Sara Beth always said I had an old soul. Danny and I like the same movies and sitcoms, music and books, same political and religious views. We’re both single parents.”

“Is he your investor?”

She nodded.

“Is he cosigning a loan? Giving you money?” Elle kept her voice low and even, not wanting to be the combatant.

Julianne flicked a tear from her cheek with her finger. “He’s helping me, Elle. Isn’t that enough or do you have to know all the details?” She stuffed her purse under her arm. “I need to go.”

“I’m sorry I rained on your parade.” Elle stopped her with an embrace. “Sweetie, I’m happy for you. More for the salon than him, but if he makes you happy—”

“He does, Elle.” Julianne broke free from Elle’s arms. “But please, please, what happened here today is between me and you.”