She hung the cabinet, swiped her forearm over her brow, and started to back down the ladder.

“What a wonderful color.”

Caught off guard, Zoe grabbed the ladder and stared down at Rowena.

“I didn’t hear you . . .” Pop out of thin air?

“Sorry.” Rowena’s eyes danced as if she guessed Zoe’s thoughts. “Malory and Dana told me to come right up. I’ve been downstairs admiring what you three have done. I wanted to see your space. As I said, the colors are wonderful.”

“I wanted them to be fun.”

“You’ve succeeded. And what did I interrupt?”

“Oh, I was just finished. Storage cabinets, for shampoos, conditioners, that sort of thing. My shampoo bowls will go right here.”

“Ah.”

“And, well, the stations for the stylists.” She gestured. “The stationary hair dryers over there, the reception counter, the waiting area. I’m going to put in a sofa, a couple of chairs, a padded bench. And that room that angles off down there, that’s for nails. I ordered this heated massage chair for what I’m calling the Indulgence Pedicure. The standard pedi will be good, but this one’s going to be a knockout. It’ll include—you couldn’t possible care.”

“On the contrary.” Rowena wandered over to look at the area, then moved through to another room. “And this?”

“One of the treatment rooms. Massages or facials. Across the hall’s for the wraps. I’m going to offer a detoxifying wrap and a really terrific paraffin job. And I’m using the big bathroom for exfoliating treatments.”

“It’s very ambitious.”

“I’ve been planning it in my head for a long time. It’s hard to believe it’s really happening. We plan to open by December first. Rowena, I haven’t neglected the key. I just haven’t figured it out.”

“If it was easy, it wouldn’t be important. You know that,” Rowena added, giving Zoe an absentminded pat on the shoulder as she wandered back to the main salon. “None of this was easy.”

“No, but it was just work. Step by step.” She smiled a little as Rowena turned, lifted a brow. “Okay, I get it. Step by step.”

“Tell me, how’s your son?”

“Simon’s fine. He’s with a friend today. We had dinner at Bradley’s last night.”

“Did you? I’m sure that was enjoyable.”

“I know there are things you can’t tell me, but I’m going to ask anyway. It’s not for me that I’m asking. I’m not afraid to take my lumps.”

“No, I don’t imagine you are. You’ve had plenty of them.”

“No more than my share. I agreed to do this thing, just like Malory and Dana did. But Bradley didn’t sign on. I want to know if something’s making him have feelings for me, feelings I’m supposed to use to find the key.”

Rowena stopped at a mirror, fussed with her hair in a timeless female gesture. “Why would you think that?”

“Because he’s infatuated, with the painting, with Kyna’s face in his painting, and I just happen to look like her.”

Rowena plucked a bottle of shampoo from a carton, examined it. “Do you think so little of yourself?”

“No. I’m not saying he couldn’t be, that he isn’t, interested in me. In who I am. But the painting was the start of it for him.”

“And he bought the painting, chose his path. The path led to you.” She replaced the bottle. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

“I need to know if the choice was his.”

“I’m not the one to ask. And you’re not ready to believe him, should he answer.” She took out another bottle, opened it to sniff. “You want me to promise you he won’t be hurt. I can’t do that. And I believe he would be insulted if he knew you asked such a thing.”

“Then he’ll have to be insulted, because I had to ask.” Zoe lifted her hands, let them fall. “It probably doesn’t matter. Kane’s hardly bothered with me. We thought he would come out, guns blazing, but he’s barely flicked at me, like he would a fly. He doesn’t seem to be very concerned that I’ll find the key.”

“And so by ignoring you, he erodes your self-confidence. You make it easy for him.”

Zoe was surprised by Rowena’s dismissive tone. “I didn’t say I was giving up,” she began, then stopped, let out a breath. “Jesus, he’s got a better handle on me than I realized. He’s playing me. Most of my life people either ignored me or told me I couldn’t do what I wanted to do most.”

“You’ve proved them wrong, haven’t you? Now prove him wrong.”

A few miles away, at the Main Street Diner, Brad shifted so Flynn could slide into the booth beside him. Across the table, Jordan had his long legs stretched out and was already studying the two-sided laminated menu.

“That menu hasn’t changed in about sixty years, pal,” Flynn pointed out. “You ought to have it down by now. Got held up,” he added and since Brad’s coffee was already there, helped himself to it.

“How come you always sit beside me and drink my coffee? Why don’t you ever sit over there and drink his?”

“I’m a sucker for tradition.” He smiled up at the waitress as she sidled over with a mug and the coffeepot. “Hi, Luce, I’m going to have the meat loaf sandwich.”

She nodded, noted it down. “Heard you were down at the council meeting this morning. Anything up?”

“Just the usual hot air.”

She snickered, glanced at Jordan. “How about you, big boy?”

When she walked off with their orders, Flynn settled back, twitched his head toward Brad. “So, did you hear that Mr. Bigshot Vane here sent a mile-long limo to pick up his date for dinner last night?”

“No shit? Show-off.”

“It was only half a mile long, and how the hell do you know?”

“Nose for news.” Flynn tapped a finger on the side of his nose. “My sources, however, were unable to confirm if said show-off scored.”

“I took the kid in Smackdown, but he whipped my ass in Grand Theft Auto.”

“Struck out with the mother,” Jordan concluded. “I bet the kid got one large charge out of riding in that limo.”