Fighter's Heart

Scene 12

Lena

I find Erin Daley at the salon where she works—incidentally, the same place Jase tracked her down to yesterday. After my conversation with him and Gabe, I'm fired up and determined to get to the bottom of this. I'm not certain I believe what he said about being entirely innocent, but I'll admit he was convincing, and I want to know, once and for all, what actually went down between him and his ex. I need to hear her side of the story and weigh it against his. Once I've deduced the truth—which I don't doubt I'll be able to do—I can decide on our next steps. Guilty or not, it's my job to help Jase, but I'll need to tread more carefully if I discover there's any truth to the accusations against him.

Entering through a glass door painted with pink script, I pause and look around. The salon is nice, probably out of my budget, with high ceilings and shiny surfaces for all the beautiful customers to admire themselves in. An array of expensive hair and skin products occupies the shelves beside the receptionist's desk, and I scan the labels, wishing I could afford to take a few bottles home with me.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist asks politely.

"I'm looking for Erin," I say, scanning the room, my gaze landing on Jase's ex as she paints dye onto a young woman's hair.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No." I turn back to the receptionist. She's pretty, wearing a pale pink blouse, emblazoned with the logo of the salon. "I was hoping for a private moment with her. It'll only take a couple of minutes."

She lifts an appointment book onto the desk and runs a fingernail down the page. "Sorry, hon, she's booked full today."

Leaning closer, I drop my voice, hoping I sound like a gossipy airhead rather than the astute professional I generally prefer to be perceived as. "It's about her ex, the MMA fighter? I'm hoping to get a few words."

"Oh," she replies, a wealth of understanding in her tone. Even though I haven't technically lied, she's mistaken me for a reporter and I'm happy for her to continue under that impression. "In that case, if you wait for five minutes she'll be finished with her client and take a short break."

"That's perfect. I'm happy to wait." I smile like she's made my day. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"No problem. I'm just glad that asshole is paying for what he did." She props her elbow on the desk and rests her chin in it, her face only inches from mine. "Did you know he came here yesterday? I mean, the nerve." She tuts. "It's always the hot ones who turn out bad."

I laugh, and this time it isn't the slightest bit fake. "Trust me, I know." We exchange a conspiratorial look, one hard-done-by single woman to another. "I wish the looks made up for the personalities."

Although with Karson, it had been more than his personality that led me to end things so swiftly and decisively. The fucker had thought he could punch me and I'd stay with him. I was smart enough not to fight back at the time—the guy is a pro—but sometimes I regret that I didn't key his car or smash a window in his ridiculous mansion of a home.

"Hey, some are just boring," she says, drawing me out of my thoughts. "And a boring hot guy isn't so bad."

I nod in agreement, straighten and gesture to the sofa just inside the door. "I'll just wait over here."

"Go right ahead, hon."

Ten minutes pass before Erin joins me. I flip through one of the magazines on the coffee table and listen to the chatter in the salon. When she reaches me, I ask if there's somewhere private we can talk. She smiles, looking far more pleased with herself than I expect, and leads me out the back to a staff kitchenette.