Ariel Clark, however, had other ideas.

Later, Sydney was sweeping around a station at the other end of the salon when Ariel walked up to her. Emma looked a lot like her mother, the same ice-blond hair, the same blue eyes, the same confident swagger. Even back when Sydney and Emma were friends, Ariel had always been standoffish toward Sydney. When Sydney spent nights at the Clark house, Ariel had always been polite, but there was something about her that made Sydney feel like being there was charity, not acceptance.

When Ariel didn’t move from the only spot left to sweep, Sydney finally stopped.

She managed a polite smile, even though she was choking the broom handle. If she was going to make a success out of this venture, she couldn’t whack White Door clients over the head with a broom, no matter how much they deserved it. “Hello, Mrs. Clark. How are you? I saw you at the party. I’m sorry we didn’t get to say hello.”

“Understandable, sugar. You were working. It would have been inappropriate.” Her eyes slid down the broom to the sad pile of hair Sydney had swept up. “You’re working here, I gather.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t actually…cut hair, do you?” she asked, as if appalled by the thought. A fine beginning, Sydney thought, if everyone in town who knew her was going to react to the news this way.

“Yes, I do actually cut hair.”

“Don’t you need some sort of degree to do that, sugar?”

Her fingertips were going numb and turning white from gripping the broom handle so tightly. “Yes.”

“Hmm,” Ariel said. “So I hear you have a daughter. And who is her father?”

Sydney knew enough not to let Ariel see her vulnerable spots. Once some people knew how to hurt you, they would do it again and again. Sydney had a lot of experience with that. “No one you know.”

“Oh, I’m certain of that.”

“Anything else, Mrs. Clark?”

“My daughter is very happy. She makes her husband very happy.”

“She’s a Clark, after all,” Sydney said.

“Exactly. I don’t know what you hoped, coming back here. But you can’t have him.”

That’s what this was all about? “I know this is going to come as a surprise, but I didn’t come back to get him.”

“So you say. You Waverleys have your tricks. Don’t think I don’t know.” As she walked away, she flipped her cell phone out of her purse and started dialing. “Emma darling, I have the most delicious news,” she said.

Around five o’clock that afternoon, Sydney was going to give up for the day and leave. That’s when she saw a man in a nice gray suit at the reception desk, and she got a sinking feeling.

This day was never going to end.

Hunter John asked the receptionist something and she turned and pointed at Sydney.

He walked across the salon to her. She should have walked away to the break room, avoided him entirely, but memories kept her there. At twenty-eight, his sandy hair was thinning. A better cut would hide it. His hair was still beautiful and shiny, which meant he still had what he had when he was young, but he was losing it. He was turning into someone else.