Fierce Salon, Episode Four: A New Adult Smexy Serial (2 page)

Chapter Three

Nate

It took Roman squeezing my shoulder for me to let Amy walk away with that douche bag. Okay, he might be a nice guy but he’s totally wrong for Amy. She needs a real man to take care of her. God knows she’s a walking disaster and needs protection from herself.

Mason seems cool but if he’s anything like his airheaded sister, he couldn’t handle a woman like Amy. Watching him hold her to his side as they walked down the street made my blood boil. As much as I didn’t want to react in any outward manner, Roman didn’t miss a thing. I guess there’s a reason why he’s the youngest detective on the force.

“So she’s the one that’s got your panties in a bunch.”

I ignore his jibe as I watch them cross the street.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I stretch my neck from side to side and lean against his car. Between Sharon’s little episode and Amy walking away when she obviously needed comforting, I’m not in a particularly good mood.

“You want her.” Roman laughs and pats my shoulder like I’m a fucking dog. “My big brother wants something that he can’t have. I love it!”

I shake him off my arm violently then push off the car, trying to dig my foot into the quarter panel as I go so he’ll have a little souvenir of this moment. “Fuck off, Roman.”

He laughs louder but doesn’t follow me. He’s smart enough to know that wouldn’t end well for him.

The salon is mostly back to business when I go back in. Paige raises her eyebrows in question and I give her a small smile. “Everything’s fine. Sharon is just going in so they can make sure she’s hydrated but she’ll be okay.”

Pretending like everything is normal is my specialty. I pick up the book and look for my next appointment. A simple cut and highlight. That’s the perfect distraction to get my mind off the brunette currently having lunch with the donut man.

I’m just starting to wrap Angela’s hair when Amy walks in. Her head is down but when she glances at me, her face is flushed and her lips swollen. I don’t realize I’m pulling on my client’s hair until she pulls back. “Oww, that hurts.”

I let go immediately and lean down to Angela’s ear. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” I rub her scalp with two fingers. “I’ll be more careful.”

“It’s okay.” She closes her eyes and tilts her head toward me. “That feels good.”

I gently rub circles around the area I pulled while keeping an eye on Amy. She’s wiping around her eyes and fingering her hair.

Olivia asks the question on the tip of my tongue.

“You have a nooner or what?” She pops a piece of candy in her mouth and turns her client to face Amy so she’s in the conversation too.

Amy reaches for a brush and drags it through her hair. “Do I look that bad?”

“You look freshly fucked, so no, not bad at all.”

The woman in Olivia’s chair howls with laughter and Amy’s face turns even brighter red than it was. “Great.”

“So, you and the twin, huh?” Olivia is sucking loudly on her candy. “I wouldn’t have put you two together.”

“We’re not together.” Amy pulls out some clear lip gloss. With the addition of gloss, her lips are a plump, shiny red. “We’re just friends.”

“Oh, even better.” Olivia steps to the other side of her client. “Friends with benefits. I can definitely see that. He’s a cutie.”

“Um, that’s my brother you’re talking about.” Carly walks in from the backroom and drops into her empty chair. “But he is a cutie. You’re right about that.”

Amy rolls her eyes and turns to Carly. “Yes, and he’s super sweet but I think we’re meant to be friends.”

“We’ll see.” I glance over just in time to see her wink at Amy. “He has a way of worming his way into your heart. You might be surprised to find yourself with more than friendly feelings before you know it.”

“Maybe,” Amy says wistfully. Does she seriously want that dude? I don’t see the appeal but she’s a strange woman. Every time I think I know what to expect from her, she throws me a curve ball. Maybe she is right for that guy.

I want to say something but the conversation definitely doesn’t involve me and I don’t normally insert myself into the girls’ gossip so I try to focus on Angela.

“Is that better?” I ask while reaching for a foil.

“You have magical fingers, Nate.” She looks euphoric. It’s almost embarrassing. I can’t stop my eyes from seeking out Amy through my mirror. She’s watching me just as Angela moans loudly. “You’re gonna make some man very happy.”

Amy bites back a laugh as Olivia and Carly both bust up. Most of my clients know I’m straight but a few prefer the fantasy that I’m gay so I don’t bother arguing with them. They can believe whatever the hell they want. If imagining me with some dude gets them off, so be it.

“Thanks, Ang.” I shake my head and smile as the girls behind me snicker in agreement.

~**~

After Angela leaves, I still feel tense. I keep picturing Mason’s fist curled into Amy’s hair as he pounds into her. Her lips and face stayed flushed for hours. I’m pissed to admit that he must have really done a number on her to leave physical evidence for so long. She even seems sleepy for the rest of the day, moving slow and almost lethargic.

I want to leave and Carly and Amy are the only stylists left. Carly is just starting on a late client. Amy has been working on a new client for almost two hours and the woman still isn’t happy.

“How’s it going, Amy.” I walk up behind her and peer over her shoulder. I can see and feel her body tense but her voice is steady.

“I’m great. Almost finished here.” She lifts a section of hair and snips off a few uneven strands. After all the time she’s spent on this lady, there shouldn’t be any uneven strands left.

“May I?” I ask, stepping into her personal space. Amy’s breath hitches as my arm grazes her breast but she moves back.

“Of course.”

She’s holding her shears behind her back and waiting for my approval. I look into the eyes of the woman in the chair through the mirror. “I’m Nate and I’m just going to take a look at where we’re at. What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Na, Na, Nadine.” Her voice is barely audible but I smile and turn the chair to the side so she can’t see me or Amy. “Well, Nadine, you’ve got gorgeous hair. Women pay big bucks for hair this thick.”

“Th, th, thank you.”

“Amy’s had a long day so do you mind if I finish up so you can be on your way?”

Amy puts her fists on her hips and her jaw drops. “I’m fine. I can finish her up.”

I press my lips together and shake my head once. She reads my face and knows I’m not giving in on this. “Nonsense. You’ve been through a lot today. You look like you could use some rest.” And a cigarette.

Nadine’s hair isn’t actually in bad shape but I’m too tired to wait around for her to be satisfied with Amy. I hedged that she might be more accommodating if I’m doing her cut.

“Oh.” Amy takes a step back and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I have been a little drowsy all afternoon. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Of course.” I lean into Amy’s ear so only she can hear me. “But maybe you should limit your lunchtime activities to things that aren’t so taxing on your body.”

She freezes at my words. I swear I can feel her shudder against my breath but once she realizes what I’m referring to, that red hue on her face deepens to a startling crimson. This time it looks like it’s coming from anger instead of exertion. She quickly packs up her tools and throws her bag over her arm.

When Amy is finally ready to leave, she stomps away then circles back and puts her hand on my shoulder, tugging me down to her mouth level.

“Don’t worry, boss. I’ll try not to be stung by a bee and high on antihistamines ever again.”

Chapter Four

Olivia

If I see another fucking Jolly Rancher, I’m gonna puke. Whoever said quitting cold turkey was the easiest method was a fucking liar. I’m not even at the twenty-four hour mark without a cigarette and I want to kill someone.

If there wasn’t so much drama in the salon today to keep me distracted, I probably would have pulled out the emergency cig I’ve got stashed in an old M&M’s Minis container. I cut off half the cigarette so I couldn’t smoke a whole one but that nub has been calling out to me all damn day.

I’ve been chomping on hard candy since I woke up but that only keeps me satisfied for a few minutes at a time. I hope Greg likes chubby girls because with the way I’m inhaling sugar, I’m going to be fat and/or diabetic by the time Saturday rolls around.

Not only that, I think I pulled out a filling because my back left molar hurts like a sonofabitch. I’m just about to pull into the Jamba Juice by my house when my phone rings. It’s my mother. The perfect ending to this shitty day.

I answer and try to sound human. “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

“I’m good, darling.” She sighs loudly. “You know I’d be better if I had a wedding to plan.”

“Seriously, Mother? Is that the only reason you call anymore?”

“Honey, I’m just worried about you. You’re not getting any younger and there is more competition for the good men every day.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I’ll bring someone to your Christmas Party. I promise.”

“You know it’s more than that.” She laughs like it’s not true but we both know damn well it is. “I just want you to be happy and I know how hard that is for you when you don’t have a man in your life.”

She might as well be talking into a mirror. My dad left her when she turned fifty and she seems to think that if I wait a day past thirty to hook myself a good one, I’ll be a spinster for life. She might be right based on my recent track record. Although, there is Greg.

“Actually, Mom, I’m seeing a new guy.” The fake cheer is replaced by actual fondness when I think of him. “He’s a really great guy. I think you’ll like him.”

“Really?” I can just picture her bouncing in her seat. “When can I meet him? Maybe lunch on Saturday?”

Lunch on Saturday? This woman is on crack. I’m not even seeing him again until dinner on Saturday. Maybe bringing him up wasn’t such a good idea.

“No, he’s busy this weekend but maybe in a few weeks. Give me some time to make sure there’s something there before you start planning the reception menu.”

“You better not be getting my hopes up for nothing, Olivia.”

“I’m not, Mom.” I so am. I haven’t even been on a single date with the guy and he hates smokers and I’m not sure I’ll make it to bed without my half stick. Fuck me. “If things seem serious between us, you’ll be the first to know. I gotta run. Love you.”

I hang up before she can say another word. My phone rings once while I’m waiting for my Caribbean Passion smoothie but I hit ignore and continue to read the nutrition chart on the wall. Who knew there were so many calories in a fruit smoothie. Is nothing truly healthy in this world?

~**~

I’ve been home for an hour and I can’t stop twirling that stupid candy container around in my hands. I really think I should just smoke the half cig in there and be done with it. I’ve done great today and a few hits seems like a fair reward.

I pop the plastic top off the container and inhale the delicious scent of tobacco. It’s just a stump…

Before I can pull it out, my phone rings again. It’s a local number but not one in my contacts so I debate whether or not to answer. In the end, I hit the green button and grunt into the receiver.

“Yeah.” I almost hope it’s a telemarketer so I can bitch someone out. I’ve been holding my tongue all day and I need to unleash.

I hear a chuckle on the other end of the line before a throat clears. “Wow, you sure know how to greet a guy.”

“Greg?” My voice squeaks and I sit a little straighter on my bed. “Hey.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, not at all. I’m just sitting around.” And trying not to smoke. For you.

“Good.” Greg always has a smartass comment so I have to smile at his hesitance.

“So, what’s going on?” I’m suddenly in a better mood.

“Just wanted to make sure you were appropriately excited about our date on Saturday.”

Ahh, there he is. Two can play that game. “Oh, right. I did agree to go out with you, huh? Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Fine?” He huffs but I can hear the amusement in his voice. “You mean you haven’t been agonizing over what to wear or where we’re going?”

“Honestly, I forgot about it.” I have to hold my breath to keep from giggling. “So what are we doing? Dinner or something?”

“Dinner or something? You’re shitting me, right?” He laughs out loud. “I’ve got some amazing plans for us. You better be ready for the dinner of a lifetime, woman.”

“Is that so?” Now I’m intrigued. “Well, I hope you do because I could use some amazing.”

There is a brief pause before he finally exhales. “Seems to me you’ve got plenty of it.” His voice is a velvety whisper, not as playful as it was just seconds ago. “You’ve got amazing eyes. Amazing hair. An amazing smile.”

A stupid grin is plastered on my face. I want to form a witty comeback but I can’t think straight. His flirting is so sincere I just want to melt. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he says. “Thank your mama for giving you such good genes.”

That’s sobering. Mentioning my mother is the fastest way to get me out of the mood. “Ugh, don’t mention her. She’s awful.”

“Really? I’m sorry.” He clears his throat and speaks louder. “I don’t mean to pry but what’s so terrible about her?”

“Okay, she’s not all bad but she likes to bitch about my lack of breeding prowess.” I choke out a fake laugh. “Well, more like my man-catching ineptitude but it’s all the same.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I can see her point.”

I’m not sure if I should hang up or start bitching him out. “Excuse me.”

“Well, I’ve been asking you out for like…ever,” he chuckles quietly, “and you kept shooting me down so maybe you
were
lacking in the man-catching department. Although I’m happy to note the improvement there.”

Why do I think he’s so damn adorable? With a disgusted harrumph, I smile. I like a man with the balls to tell me how it is. Just as long as said balls don’t get in the way of him taking it just as good as he gives it.

“Yeah, I finally got tired of waiting for a real man so I agreed to go out with you.”

“Ouch.” His laugh is genuine. “I guess I need to add some street fighting or tattoos to our Saturday night agenda to prove that I’m a real man.”

“That would be a start.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Olivia. You might not be able to handle what you get.”

His soft words penetrate right into my gut. I want to be beside him so I can look into his eyes when I respond. “I think I can handle whatever you’ve got in mind.”

“I know you can,” he murmurs. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I barely speak the word before I hear his end disconnect. That cigarette is looking really good right about now.