That was what he told himself to make things better, at least for himself.
Chapter Thirty-Two
After parking her rusted pickup truck, Brielle looked back at it and tried to decide whether she had just a little fondness for it now that she'd come to terms with this country town.
Nope.
She now loved the town, but she still hated the truck. Oddly enough, it felt better that at least that much hadn't changed. Something about her hadn't made a dramatic transformation. Not that she minded what had. She felt as if she were just getting to know herself - and like herself.
Stepping into the salon on the small main street, she smiled broadly. It had been months since she'd had a pedicure and it was long overdue. Considering how much she'd been working, she felt not an ounce of guilt about an hour of pampering.
Brielle greeted the petite brunette in the salon with a cheerful good morning.
"You must be Brielle," the woman said with a sparkle in her eyes. "I'm so glad to meet you. I've only been in town a month, and the way people gossip here, I feel as if I already know you. I'm Kendra Canyon."
"It's great to meet you, too, Kendra. Yes. People do love to gossip here. At first I was a little horrified at having all my business splashed up like the front page of a newspaper or even the National Enquirer, but I'm getting used to it now." Brielle followed Kendra to a massaging chair that was already prepared for her pedicure.
"Take a seat, Brielle, and we'll get started. We can fill each other in on any and all gossip either one of us hasn't heard yet."
"It's been too long since I've had this done," Brielle said as she sat back and hit a button to make the chair start massaging the aching muscles in her lower back.
"That's just tragic. You have to come see me regularly. I've been so busy lately, though, that I've just put out an ad for a couple of employees. It's great, but I figured when I bought this place that it would be a little slow. I was afraid at first, thinking I wouldn't be able to make enough money to survive. I was proved wrong the first week." Kendra filled the basin with water and scented salts and then had Brielle slide her small feet in.
Another sigh escaped as the hot water soothed her feet.
"What made you move here, Kendra?" Brielle asked, although almost too relaxed to speak.
"I needed a change. I lived in Seattle and had a nasty breakup. You know, the same old song and dance we've all been through." Kendra rolled her eyes, then lifted one of Brielle's feet and began exfoliating.
"Has it been a culture shock for you coming from a large city to this place?" Brielle asked. "I thought I was going to wither up and die when I first arrived."
"It's certainly been a change, but one I wanted. I grew up in a small town in Oregon and moved to Seattle to attend college. I hated it, dropped out, and waitressed for a couple of years. Then I realized my life really sucked, so I signed up for beauty school and worked in Seattle a few years before coming here."
The two shared a few stories of their experiences in bigger cities, and an hour passed delightfully. "Please tell me you do a three-hour pedicure," Brielle said, and she was only half kidding.
"No. I think my hands would fall off," Kendra replied. "But I am looking for a masseuse who would be more than happy to give you a three-hour foot massage. As soon as I hire one, I'll let you know. Hold on; I'll be right back."
When Kendra returned a few minutes later with a cup of hot tea, Brielle took it happily and told her, "I can't tell you how nice this is. I love the ranch - something I never thought I'd say - but there's just something about pampering yourself that makes you feel like a woman."
"I hate to say it, but you are dating Colt Westbrook. You should just have him fly you to a fancy spa for the weekend."
"How would he do that?"
"Well, Brielle, the man does own like half a dozen airplanes." When Kendra turned around, Brielle's face was drained of all color.
"What?" Brielle was barely able to get that one word through her throat.
"You didn't know that?" Kendra gnawed on her lip. "I'm sorry. People just love to talk. I assumed that since you've been dating him for a while … Never mind."
"Colt works on my ranch. How could he own that many planes?" Who could afford that many? People like her father, that's who.
"I probably don't know what I'm talking about. People gossip, remember?"
"Please tell me, Kendra."
Kendra spoke reluctantly about the giant ranch Colt owned, and the huge house, planes, cars, and other toys that most people only dreamed about having. By the time the beautician was done talking, Brielle had long forgotten the sense of relaxation this visit had given her.