“I make it a point to read up on my clients.” He circles me. “Ronni’s description didn’t do you justice. You’re simply gorgeous, darling, and once I’m done with you, you’ll be nothing less than breathtaking.”
“I don’t want my hair cut.”
“Why would you? It’s perfect.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “I’ll give you a few layers here and some highlights there. I’ll sculpt your brows. Oh, my. I must thank Ronni for sending me such a fine specimen.”
“This is my friend, Crew.” I blush. I’ve never had to introduce him to anyone before, and I’m not sure how to do it. He did say we’re a we the other day.
“Friend. Right. The two of you together will burn down the house.” He squeals. “Oh, the hotness. I wish I could bottle it.”
“Where do you want me?”
He escorts me to a chair in front of a large mirror, then drags another one over for Crew. “Sit, my boy. Your blond hair is simply delicious. I’m sorry to say there’s not a thing I would do to it.”
We sit and listen to Carlos gossip about his other clients, most of whom are either famous or rich. An hour later, I’m taken back to the sink to get my hair washed. It’s heavenly the way Carlos massages my scalp.
“You’re going to look fabulous. Trust me,” he says, wrapping my hair in a towel. “Now don’t peek until I’m finished, okay?”
He turns the chair so I can’t see myself in the mirror. My back straightens when he gets out his shears. “Carlos—” I lean away from the scissors. “I know Ronni wants me to cut my hair, but I’m really against it. I mean it when I say please don’t.”
He puts down the scissors and leans in, his hands on the arms of my chair. “Sweet Brianna. I don’t care if the Pope himself tells me to cut your hair. I won’t do it unless you say so. A few layers only. I give you my word.”
“Okay. My friends call me Bria.”
Carlos smiles and picks up the scissors.
I’m still nervous, especially when I see hair falling on the floor, but Crew’s smile assures me it’s okay. I watch him the whole time.
After Carlos blow-dries my hair, Crew’s smile fades. I try to get a glimpse in the mirror, but Carlos won’t let me. “What is it? Is my hair orange or something?”
“It’s magnificent,” Carlos says. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Crew is looking at me like he’s seen a ghost.
“Crew?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Carlos, is there a bathroom I can use?”
Carlos points to the back of the salon. “I hope your friend is okay. He looked a little green.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” But I’m not sure. His violent mood swings confuse the hell out of me.
Carlos gets out his curling iron and does things with it. “Perfect,” he says. “Do you want to wait for him for the big reveal?”
I shake my head, wondering what’s taking him so long.
“Here we go,” Carlos says and turns the chair around.
I’m stunned. It’s me, only better. Sun-kissed highlights span the length of my hair and wispy long layers give it a casual, beachy look. My brows are sculpted in a way that make my eyes stand out more than they did before.
I turn and hug Carlos. “I love it!”
He hugs me back. “Of course you do. I’m a genius with hair. Tell all your famous friends.”
“I don’t have any famous friends.”
“I suspect you will soon, honey.”
Crew returns, and his eyes are glued to my head. Carlos was right. He looks green. I twirl around in a circle. “What do you think? I could easily pass for a California girl, right?”
Crew heads for the door. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
Carlos shrugs. “It must be the smell of the color that got to him. Some people can’t handle it.”
“Yeah, must be,” I say, not believing it for a second.
I get out my wallet, but Carlos pushes my hand away. “Your visit has been covered, including tip. You’re good to go, girl. Promise me you’ll come back every month for a touchup.”
“I promise.”
I exit the salon. Crew is sitting on a bench. I sit next to him. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? You’re acting really strange.”
He runs a hand across the cover of his notebook. “There’s something I want to show you.”
“Okay.”
He flips through it, stops on a page, and bends the cover back.