Tipsy (4 page)

I nodded. “Well, it definitely would.”
I placed the picture on the table nearby and ran my hands through
her hair. It was surprisingly thick and well bodied. “How about
this,” I suggested, leaning down beside her ear and looking at her
through the mirror. “Let’s get some honey-blond highlights in there
and really make it pop. Then I’ll cut it just like that and show
you how to style it.”

“
Blond?” she asked, looking
over her grayish hue.

I nodded encouragingly. “Honey, you
will give Halle a run for her money!”

She smiled ruefully. “Let’s do
it.”

A little over an hour later, she
stepped out of the Razor’s Edge looking like a million bucks.
Judging from the bounce in her step, I would say she felt like one
hot lady.

I sighed. All in a day’s
work.

I carried the empty bowl of coloring
mix back into the little kitchen and rinsed it out in the sink.
Then I gave it a light wash, cleaning the highlighting brush out as
well and placed them on the drying rack to dry
overnight.

“
Julie,” Sandra said,
entering the little room behind me.

I turned from the staff fridge where I
was reaching in to grab my empty water thermos and my polka dotted
reusable lunch bag.

“
Yes?” I asked, mentally
going over my station to make sure I hadn’t left anything lying
about.

Sandra was the owner and top stylist of
the Razor’s Edge Salon. She was the queen bee around here. She
employed all the staff and paid us all an hourly rate. We were
allowed to keep all the tips we made and didn’t have to split them.
We also received a percentage of commission from the designer line
of hair care products we sold in the salon.

She was a nice woman, but she was
slightly intimidating. She was very business oriented, which I
respected, but sometimes her anal ways gave me a stomach
ache.

“
I saw that woman’s hair,”
she began, leaning in the doorway and crossing her arms over her
white blouse. “It looked stunning.”

Relief washed through me. “Oh, thank
you. I thought it looked great too.”

She nodded, approval in her eyes. “Your
talent has really grown in the last year,” she said.

“
I really appreciate you
noticing and saying so, Sandra.”

She nodded. “Of course. When my
stylists do well, so does my salon. Every client that walks out of
here is like a walking advertisement. You make us look
good.”

The compliment made me feel
good.

“
I was wondering if perhaps
you might be open to more responsibilities around here?”

I hadn’t expected that. Not at all.
“What about the senior girls?” There were lots of stylists who had
been here much longer than me and they were great.

“
You have the youth and
young image I would like to represent the salon.”

Wow. I was flattered. “That would be
wonderful.”

Sandra smiled. “Great! Maybe we can
meet tomorrow after your shift and sit down in my office to discuss
the details?”

I agreed and then she disappeared. I
grabbed my water and lunch bag and returned to my station to make
sure it was tidy, grabbed my oversized leather purse, and headed
out into the parking lot.

I checked my cell and I had a couple
texts from my bestie Dee.

Where are you?

Sorry. Running late. B
there soon.

I’m starving.

Eat without me.

No!

I smiled at my phone.
Order for me?

Will do.

I smiled. I’m sure she would enjoy
ordering me all her favorites so she could eat half my
plate.

I climbed in my Hyundai and drove
toward the Applebee’s where I was meeting Dee. The parking lot was
full and it took a minute to find a place to park. I hurried
inside, stopping at the bathroom to wash my hands, and then found
Dee sitting in a booth near one of the windows.

“
Thanks,” I said, slipping
into the booth and taking a sip of the Diet Coke that was waiting
for me.

“
Food should be here soon,”
she said, tucking her smart phone into her purse and looking
up.

“
What did you get
me?”

“
Oh, the usual. A big
hamburger and fries.”

I rolled my eyes. There was no way she
ordered me a cow on a plate. I was a vegetarian. “Care to try
again?”

She sighed. “I ordered you that pasta
dish with the veggies in it.”

My stomach growled appreciatively.
“Yum.”

“
I ordered a cow so try and
hold back your gag when it gets here. I’m starving.”

It didn’t bother me to watch other
people eat meat. I just didn’t like the taste and texture of it. I
hadn’t always been a vegetarian. I just felt much better when I
didn’t have a pound of rotting meat in my gut. (Fun fact: meat can
take up to two weeks to make its way out of the human body. If you
ask me, it’s the reason so many guys fart and stink. All that meat
rotting in there.)

“
So what’s been going on?” I
asked my friend.

“
You know, the usual.
Threatening Craig about leaving the toilet seat up, throwing his
laundry all over the place, and never refilling the toilet paper
roll when it’s empty.”

I laughed. “Sounds like living together
is all you dreamed it would be.”

She snorted and took a drink of her
bright-green martini. “He’s driving me nuts, Jules.”

I patted her hand. “You two will get
used to being together twenty-four-seven.”

“
Speaking of boyfriends…”
she began.

I groaned and started digging through
my bag, mining out the tips I made that day and putting them
together so I could stick them in my wallet.

“
There’s this friend of
Craig’s—”

“
No,” I said, effectively
cutting her off. “Don’t even think about it. I am not going out on
a blind date.”

“
I’ve seen him. It isn’t
blind.”

“
No.”

She sighed.

The waitress arrived with our food. I
practically drooled just looking at it. I dug into the pasta as
soon as the waitress walked away. It was warm and creamy. So
good.

“
Seriously,” Dee said. “You
can’t just ignore dating.”

“
I’m not.”

She snorted.

“
That is very unladylike,” I
informed her.

She waved her fork at me (why she
needed a fork to eat a burger I would never know). “Don’t try to
change the subject.”

I gave up and shoved a huge bite in my
mouth, glancing down, and I finally realized I still had a wad of
cash in my lap. I took a quick sip of soda and then unfolded the
bills to flatten them out.

A business card fluttered from between
the bills and just missed my bowl of goodness.

“
What’s that?” Dee said, her
eyes narrowing on the card.

I caught the symbol for the local
Jacksonville PD and the bottom fell out of my stomach. Had Blue
actually slipped me his card with my tip?

“
Nothing,” I said and
reached to grab it.

She had the reflexes of a ballerina on
speed and snatched it away before my hand even thought about
grabbing it and shoving it under my butt (no one would look
there).

She gasped, the fry in her fingers
falling from her grasp.

Here we go.

Her eyes were huge, like a
bug. She looked at me and the card. “Is this
him
?” she whisper yelled.

The women in the booth nearby gave us a
curious glance.

“
Who?” I played
dumb.

Her eyes narrowed. “You know exactly.
Judging from the quick blush to your cheeks and the way your eyes
are darting around, I would have to say that is a big fat
yes.”

“
Geez, are you a private eye
when I’m not looking?”

She looked smug, but it quickly melted
into a look of pity. “Julie,” she said empathetically. “It was one
date. You have to move on.”

Wait for it…

We said it at the same time. I couldn’t
help it. “Sweetie. He’s just not that into you.”

She scowled.

“
Fine.” She sniffed. “Make
fun. I’m only trying to help my best friend who is carrying around
the card of a man who never called and turning down perfectly good
blind dates.”

I groaned. “Please. You know damn well
that Mr. Blind Date is probably at home right now with his mom and
his twenty cats, knitting them each a sweater for
Christmas.”

Dee laughed. “You set a girl up with
one weirdo…” she said dejectedly.

It was the weirdo to end all weirdoes.
I shuddered. “I haven’t been carrying that card around,” I
admitted.

Her interest perked.

“
I saw him.
Today.”

“
I need every detail. Now.”
She leaned over the table like I was about to divulge the
whereabouts of some priceless treasure.

“
He came in for a haircut. I
cut his hair. He left. The end.”

“
Did you stab
him?”

I giggled. “Thought about
it.”

“
Did you at least knick
him?”

I shook my head. Truth was the minute I
touched him, I couldn’t imagine doing any kind of bodily harm to
him. It wouldn’t just hurt him, but me too.

I was a head case.

I reached across the table and grabbed
up Dee’s martini and took a swig. The liquor burned my throat the
whole way down. My eyes watered. I was such a lightweight. That one
sip would likely make me tipsy.

“
Did he ask you
out?”

I shook my head. “No. He didn’t even
act like he was interested. He probably didn’t realize his card was
stuck in the bills.”

“
Maybe he wants you to call
him.” Dee suggested.

We both looked at each other and
laughed. Then we laughed some more. I didn’t call guys. I was a
little old-fashioned like that. I wanted to be approached by a man.
I wanted him to make the first move. I also thought the guy should
pay for the date. Yeah, I know. It’s the new millennium. Feminism
is strong—Go Women! But there’s something to be said for some
chivalry now and then. I wasn’t about to swoon for some guy who
thinks I can open my own door and pay for his dinner.

Nope.

Being in a relationship is a whole
other ballgame… Then I believe in equal opportunity for all. But in
the first steps of dating, I think the man should take the
lead.

“
It doesn’t matter,” I said,
taking another bite. “He’s not interested and I’m not calling.” I
grabbed up the money and the card and shoved it to the very bottom
of my bag.

I could leave it on the table. I could
take it and throw it away.

I couldn’t bring myself to do
it.

4

Blue

Two weeks later, I found myself in need
of another haircut.

A man in my profession had to look
clean-cut and respectable. At least that’s what I told myself as I
was sitting in my steel-gray Dodge Challenger, staring at the salon
from behind my windshield.

Never mind the fact the first haircut I
had in months was two weeks ago. That was different. And this time
I had extra motivation.

“
Shit,” I muttered under my
breath as I shut off the engine, climbed out of the car, and
slammed the door. Two weeks of throwing myself back into work. Two
weeks of focusing on the job.

Only my focus was jack.

Every time I thought I had a good day,
I would spend the nights in my apartment daydreaming. About a
blonde I had no business thinking about.

I walked up the steps of the salon and
went inside. The place was pretty ritzy. ‘Course, what did I know?
My mom was the one who usually cut my hair, in the center of her
dining room, with an old towel wrapped around my shoulders. It was
free. She’d been cutting it since I was a boy, so why change it if
it wasn’t broken?

The floors were made of light-colored
Travertine tile. There was a mosaic fountain by the front door and
the trickling water blended with the Zen-type music that played
through speakers in the ceiling.

The receptionist desk was round with a
young brunette sitting in the center. The top of the desk was black
granite and there was a large, very organized display of hair
products to the left.

I had no idea so many different bottles
of stuff existed.

To the right of the desk was a long row
of stylist chairs lining the wall. All of them had built-in white
cabinetry, bright lights, and black stylist chairs. The mirrors
bounced light around the room and the hum of women’s voices and
blow-dryers filled the air.

Toward the very back of the room were
several stations of people getting their nails done, something I
never planned to do. Just being in this place to get my hair cut
was a danger to my man card.