Tipsy (5 page)

The guys at the station would have a
field day if they could see me now.

The receptionist perked up as soon as
her eyes landed on me, so I smiled and stepped forward. “Is Julie
available for a haircut?” I asked, glancing in Julie’s
direction.

She was cutting someone’s hair and
laughing. The sound caused something in me to tighten. I replayed
that laugh over in my head so many times in the past few weeks, but
nothing I ever heard in my head sounded near as good as the live
thing.

“
Julie is with a client,”
the receptionist said. “But Layla has an opening.”

The girl I presumed was Layla came
forward, long, dark hair swinging around her shoulders. She was
pretty hot. Her lips were red and she wore impressive high heels
accentuating her mile-long legs.

I considered my options. Accepting and
letting Layla cut my hair would probably be a smart move. I told
myself I wouldn’t come here anyway, yet here I stood. My eyes
drifted over to Julie. She was no longer paying attention to the
client in her chair but was watching me.

Layla stepped closer and put a hand on
my arm. “Ready?”

Something passed behind Julie’s eyes…
something that looked suspiciously like disappointment. Then she
turned back to what she was doing.

“
I’ll wait for Julie,” I
said.

Layla’s eyes widened in surprise. I
flashed her a grin. “Nothing personal. Maybe next time.”

She smiled and grabbed a card off the
reception desk and held it out. “Here’s my card. It has my number
on it. If you ever want to make an appointment… or go out for
drinks.”

Any other time I would have been all
over this girl. I would have asked her out on the spot. But today I
had no interest. Today, the back of my neck itched because I felt
the subdued gray-blue-eyed stare I knew was behind me.

I forced a smile toward Layla and
pocketed the card, giving her a little wink. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll
take you up on that.”

Yeah, it was a lie. But I wasn’t about
to hurt her feelings.

She gave me a smile and then moved
away, shaking her hips as she went. I watched… because I was a guy.
And because it was a nice view.

I took a seat near the reception desk,
looking at all the girly magazines and products around me. Man, I
must really have it bad to subject myself to a place like
this.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long.
Julie escorted her client to the reception desk and gave her a warm
smile while she helped her schedule another appointment for a
future date. I couldn’t help but watch her.

There was something sincere about her.
Something that drew my eyes like she was standing under a spotlight
that only I could see. Her bangs were falling over one eye and
every once in a while she would push at them while she talked. It
was a move I found oddly endearing.

Once the client was gone, Julie turned
her eyes toward me. I noticed her smile lost a little bit of its
authenticity. I didn’t like that. Not at all.

“
Blue,” she said, coming
over to stand before me.

I stood up. “Got time for a
haircut?”

Her eyes raked over my face and then to
my hair. Her body was slightly tense, and I prepared myself for a
no.

“
Yeah,” she said. “Come on
back.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding
and followed her to her station. She was wearing a pair of white
jeans that hugged her ass like a glove. Her black and white shirt
had wide horizontal stripes on it, was fitted, and hugged her back
and narrow waist.

When she turned and gestured to the
chair, I noticed the necklace hanging low around her neck. It was a
giant red heart that hung crooked. Her hair was its usual “just
been laid” look and for once it made me a little mad instead of
turned on.

I didn’t want to think about her
getting her hair messed up like that by anyone but me.

I needed a beer. While I was watching
sports. This damn girly fru-fru place was starting to get to
me.

“
Just trimming you up
today?” Julie said, pulling out a black cape to drape around my
shoulders.

I took it as a good sign she wasn’t
going to try to torture me with the pink one today.

“
Yeah.”

“
I’ll do like last time and
trim it up. Then I’ll shampoo it for you.” When her hands delved
into my hair and rubbed against my scalp, little goose bumps broke
out over my arms.

“
You have really good hair,”
she murmured.

“
So do you.”

The compliment seemed to make her mad,
and she pulled her hands away to reach for her tools. Why did women
have to be so damn complicated all the time?

She used the clippers on the side,
shortening it up a bit and then cleaning up the neck area. Then she
used the scissors to trim the top. As she worked, the only sound
between us was the light snipping of the sheers.

“
So I never apologized for
not calling after our date.”

Her movements paused. Her eyes darted
to me in the mirror and then quickly away. She used the black comb
to pull up a section of hair and began cutting again. “No big
deal,” she replied nonchalantly.

“
I wanted to.”

She snorted. It made me
smile.

“
Things at work got crazy. I
had to go out of town.”

She looked at me again. “You
did?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I was gone for a
while.”

“
I hope everything’s
okay.”

“
It’s fine.”

She set down the scissors and ran her
fingers through my hair again. I had to work to keep my eyes
open.

“
All done,” she said,
patting me on the shoulder. “Let’s get you shampooed.”

Damn. That was fast. Dutifully, I
followed her back to the shampoo bowl and sat down. The water was
warm, the shampoo smelled pretty good… and her hands… Damn, I loved
having her hands on me.

Once again, I was happy this cape was
so long.

This time after she blow-dried it, she
put a little something on her fingers and rubbed them together. Her
movements were quick and sure when she styled it, and then she
stepped aside for me to see. The front was tousled and sticking up
a little.

She gave me the “just been laid”
look.

An image of me shoving her up against
the mirror and burying my tongue in her mouth flashed through my
head. It was so strong and so wanted that my hands clenched into
fists in my lap.

“
I did something a little
different,” she said, looking a little unsure.

“
I like it,” I said, noting
the hoarseness in my tone.

She smiled. A genuine smile.

Do it again.

Her smile fell away and it appeared she
was having some kind of inner debate. Whatever it was went quickly
because she sighed and the grabbed up the bright-green container of
what she put in my hair and held it out. “Here, this is what I
used. You can take it.”

“
You’re giving this to
me?”

She bit her bottom lip (which drove me
crazy) and nodded. “You can use it to make your hair look like
that.”

I looked at the product clutched in her
hand and then up at her face. “Have dinner with me.”

She jerked like I slapped her. That
wasn’t really the reaction I was hoping for.

“
What?”

“
Dinner. Tonight. With
me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you
weren’t interested.”

I laughed. “Do you think I would
subject myself to this place if I wasn’t?”

She crossed her arms over her chest.
“You could always ask Layla.”

“
I already asked
you.”

She shoved the hair stuff in my hand
and then picked up a broom and dust pan. Her movements were stiff
as she cleaned up what little hair she cut off me. “You had your
chance. You never called.”

I grabbed her by the elbow and spun her
around. “You had a good time.”

“
You have a big
ego.”

I moved quickly, crowding her personal
space. “Are you saying you didn’t? Are you saying you don’t feel
the chemistry between us?”

“
Maybe I already have a
boyfriend,” she replied, jerking her arm out of my
grasp.

Actually, I hadn’t thought of that.
Because I couldn’t think of her as anything but mine. Something
sour rose up in my gut. “Do you?”

She sniffed.

A slow grin spread out over my face.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.” I dug some money out of my pocket and
put it beside the mirror. “Keep the change.”

Then I walked out of the salon without
looking back.

5

Julie

When I got up this morning I really
didn’t expect for my day to go as follows:

—
Spill coffee on my shirt
and have to change.

—
Deal with three clients who
have unrealistic expectations about the hair attached to their
head.

—
Watch Layla hit on Blue.
Watch him turn her down.

—
Watch Blue ask me
out.

—
Agree.

—
Walk around in giddy shock
and then be called into my boss’ office for a meeting I forgot
about.

I couldn’t even be nervous. I was
already so tied up in knots about my dinner with Blue that
everything else seemed like details.

“
Julie, please sit down,”
Sandra said, in a smooth, southern voice.

I moved around the chair and sat
down.

“
You’ve been doing a great
job the last couple weeks with the scheduling of the stylists and
dealing with the product placements.”

“
Thank you.” I actually
enjoyed it. It meant a little bit longer hours, but that extra pay
was nice and I took pride in the displays around here. I think the
way I had it set up actually increased sales. The scheduling was a
bit tricky because a few of the stylists thought they could take
advantage of me by requesting certain days and shifts, but I
quickly let them know it wasn’t going to happen. I planned to treat
everyone fairly around here.

“
I was wondering if you
would be willing to take on the inventory.”

“
Inventory?”

Sandra nodded. “Yes, since you’re
handling product placement, I figured giving you access to the
suppliers and catalogues would be a good idea. You are welcome to
bring in any new lines you think would sell well. Just keep in mind
I only want to carry three or four lines at a time. Anything beyond
that—”

“
Will just look cluttered
and inconsistent.” I finished.

She looked impressed.

“
I agree. Keeping the lines
to a minimum will give the impression that we only carry the best
and pay attention to what the clients need.”

“
Yes. Exactly. But we will
always carry Paul Mitchell. You can change the others, just not
that one. Paul is a friend of mine.”

She was friends with
Paul Mitchell
? He was like
the hair care king.

I agreed and she continued on. “You
will need to set aside a block of time every week to take stock and
keep track of what’s selling and what we need more of. Since you’re
handling the products, I’d like you to go ahead and handle the
color as well.”

I nodded, thinking of the cabinets full
of hair coloring products in the back.

“
Those will need reordered
more than the products out front.”

“
Okay.”

“
I will show you how to
handle the stock and then you can take over next week.”

I followed her back into the little
kitchen where the staff kept their lunch and salon supplies. She
quickly but thoroughly went through the way to keep track, told me
what usually got used up the fastest (the blond colors), and then
handed me a notebook and a binder with all the supplier
information.

My eyes kept straying to a door that
led off the kitchen, a door I’d never gone behind.

“
Sandra?” I asked. “What’s
in there?”

“
Oh, that’s just a closet.
The water heater and the electrical box.”

Boring.

We finished up the meeting and then I
gathered up my stuff and hurried to my car. I had a date
tonight!

Before climbing into my Hyundai, I sent
off a quick text to Dee.

Have a Date. Meet me at my
place. Wardrobe 9-1-1.

I didn’t wait for a reply. I just
shoved my phone in my bag and headed for my townhouse just a few
miles away.

I lived off of Gumbranch Road in a
little development of townhouses that were only several years old.
They were in rows. Each of them looked the same with light-colored
vinyl siding, dark shutters, and concrete steps leading off the
sidewalk and up to the front door.