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“My point is,” Erica continued, “you should be comfortable in the house. Get to know it. And the outside is very nice. There’s lots of room for Jackson to run around.” She glanced at the warming milk, then back at Allison. “If we have a hot summer, we can get one of those little blow-up kiddie pools. There’s a nice shade area by the deck where he’d be out of direct sun. At that age, they burn so easily.”
“When did you and Peter buy the house?” Allison asked. “Summer’s mentioned she’s lived here all her life, so it had to be shortly after you got married.”
Erica poured the chocolate milk into mugs. “I bought the house before Peter and I met.”
Allison felt her eyes widen. “You bought a house on your own? While you were single?”
Erica walked over with the drinks and set them on the island, then took a seat and smiled. “Yes. I bought this house by myself, as a single woman. You look shocked.”
“I am.” Allison winced. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just I don’t know any woman who was—what, twenty-five?—buying a house on her own.” Plus Peter had implied he and Erica had bought the place together. He’d made a point of telling her how Erica had kept him from taking his half. But if she’d bought it on her own, that wasn’t true.
Erica looked around. “It was a huge financial stretch for me and my mortgage broker kept trying to get me to buy something smaller.” She laughed. “A starter home. I told him I didn’t want to move again. I wanted a house I could grow into.”
She sipped her drink. “It was in rough shape, let me tell you. The structure was sound and the plumbing and electrical worked, but otherwise, it was a mess. Run-down and dirty. No one had painted for twenty years and the carpets were worn to the backing. The kitchen and bathroom were all original. It was going to be a project.”
“You sound as if you like that.”
Erica smiled at her. “I enjoy a challenge. I took it slowly. Room by room. My mom was dating a contractor, and he and I came up with a plan. I saved until I had enough for the next project, then he did the work. It took about four years to get it to where you see it today.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Four years and a salon. I stopped expanding while I was working on the house. I didn’t have the cash flow. But once it was done, I returned to my business plan. It worked out.”
She nodded at Allison’s mug. “You haven’t tried your drink.”
Allison automatically took a sip. The hot chocolate was smooth and creamy—full of flavor but with a more sophisticated flair. Less sweet, somehow, but satisfying. It was—in a word—perfection.
“It’s wonderful,” she said. “Good enough that I don’t care if it gives me heartburn.”
“You think it will?”
“This far along, everything gives me heartburn.” She returned to what Erica had told her about the house. “I don’t understand how you bought this place on your own. No offense, but aren’t you a hairstylist? I don’t mean to be rude,” she added hastily. “Peter implied you came from money but I didn’t think it was...”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry. I’m asking very inappropriate questions.”
Erica drew her brows together. “I didn’t come from money. My mother is also a hairstylist. She still has clients. I keep my hand in but I’ve moved to the business side of things. I can’t believe Peter told you I came from money. That’s so strange.”
Allison was just as confused. The business side of things? How could one salon have that much paperwork or whatever? Shouldn’t Erica be doing hair? Wait. What was it Erica had said about the house? It had taken four years and a salon.
“I know you own a business,” she said. “It’s a beauty salon so you do hair.”
“Yes. I went to beauty school the second I graduated from high school and from there to building up a client base at my mom’s place. I worked hard and bought her out when I was twenty-three. I grew that, opened a second salon and so on.” She paused. “Have you heard of Twisted?”
Allison blinked several times. “You mean the upscale salons and spas? Of course I’ve heard of Twisted. They’re like—”
Horror washed over her, along with an icy embarrassment bath. “That’s you? You own Twisted? By yourself?”
Erica smiled. “I have many employees, but yes, I’m the sole owner of the corporation.”
Allison wanted to shrink into the flooring. This couldn’t be happening. Erica owned Twisted? How could she not know that? Why hadn’t someone told her? Only they hadn’t. Peter always dismissed what Erica did as “just hair.” Summer talked about how her mom cared about things like appearance and style and had talked about her “business,” but given what Peter had said, Allison had assumed she worked somewhere.
But that wasn’t true. Apparently Erica had started from very little and built an empire. She’d bought this house, had grown her business. She owned Twisted!
“I’m sorry,” Allison murmured. “I had no idea.”
Erica smiled. “Yes, I can see that from your face.” Her humor faded. “I have no idea why Peter wanted you to believe I was just a quote-hairdresser-unquote. First of all, it can be an excellent profession. A good stylist with a happy clientele can earn over a hundred thousand a year, no problem.”
Something flashed in her eyes. An emotion, maybe. Regret?
“Peter and I have different business philosophies,” Erica continued. “I’m ambitious and while he likes business, he doesn’t share my passion for conquering the next challenge.”
