Leslie's Curl & Dye Read online

  Leslie’s Curl & Dye

  DL White

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017-2018 by DL White

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  As always for my parents, who encourage me daily to keep living my dream. Thank you for your love and unending support. Love you dearly!

  To my readers, who have stuck with me since my fan fiction days— I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be doing this without you. Thank you for riding with me. Hang on for more!

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Also by DL White

  About the Author

  For as long as I can remember, I would much rather be in my bedroom reading and writing than doing anything else, but I began seriously pursuing a writing career in 2011.

  I love coffee and Sunday Brunch, especially on a patio, but my true obsession is water— lakes, rivers, oceans, waterfalls! And sand... dig your toes in, soft! On the weekend, you’ll probably find me near water and if I’m lucky, on an ocean beach.

  By day I am an Executive Administrative Assistant at a world renowned beverage company. By night, when I’m not writing books, I’m devouring them. I blog my reviews and thoughts on writing at BooksbyDLWhite.com.

  Find me online at:

  booksbydlwhite.com

  [email protected]

  Acknowledgments

  First to my readers, new and seasoned, thank you as always for riding with me. Being an author wouldn’t be nearly as fun without people who like your work and rep you in the streetz. Especially my black indie romance readers— y’all rock hard. Thanks for putting your faith in me and your dollars behind me and puttin’ some respeck on my name!

  To my author #frans- I love y’all. Thanks for keeping me sane and focused on what matters— gettin’ #deez words out!

  To my Betas- Bless you for being willing to read my scribbles and help me turn a mess into something people actually want to read. You’re a gift and much MUCH appreciated.

  To my little bro Big Mike, HNIC at HeadHunters Barbershop in Spokane, Wa, thanks for the inside information and expertise. Heavy is the head that wears the crown… and you wear it well.

  To everyone I envy and idolize… you keep me going, keep me pushing, let me know that it’s always possible to level up. Keep doing what you do.

  Chapter One

  Leslie

  * * *

  My favorite time of day was three o'clock.

  Especially in the summer. Especially on a hot summer Friday.

  The salon's front door was propped open in a futile effort to let hot air and the scent of singed hair escape. Heavy bass from the boom box on the counter, accented by the cackle of laughter drifted out into the heated atmosphere, where the air was so still, the power lines sang. I glanced down the row of salon chairs, each occupant receiving the best hair care that money could buy.

  At least on this side of Potter Lake.

  "I'm just sayin'," Earline, the town gossip, offered in not-so-hushed tones. "I heard that she wasn't living in the marital home anymore."

  "Well, where's she living then?" asked Dorothy Rae, seated in the chair next to her. In one arm, she cradled a plastic case full of grey rods, from which she fed her stylist when she received a tap on the shoulder. "Wait... she's living with him?"

  Earline pursed her lips and hummed, glancing away. Not answering, but answering.

  "Ooh, she didn't wait long, did she? Went right from one house to the other. No stop in between to even get her bearings."

  "Well, why should she? She got a man willing to take her from her husband's house," said Earline.

  "And a husband willing to let her get taken." Dorothy's thin lips twisted into a conspiratorial smirk.

  "That's how young women do these days," said Angela Evans, mid-press and curl. Her legs were crossed, a pair of pink sneakers peeking out from under the flowing smock with the peeling Curl&Dye logo imprinted across the front. "They try marriage on for size and if it doesn't work right away, they leave."

  “Carl and Macey have been married for over ten years, though," I pointed out. "And we all know Carl is a flirt. If he's faithful, I'm a pink unicorn."

  The entire shop laughed at my half-serious comment on the situation. If the barber shop was where men gathered to bond with other men, chat about man things and dap each other up, then the beauty shop was the same for women. It was where we found solace and camaraderie, and a bit of gossip on a hot day in a full salon.

  The conversation moved from the affair between Macey Raymond, wife of Potter Lake's most successful attorney and Thomas Cayhill, owner of Cayhill Building Supply, to the annual all-church fish fry to be held the following day.

  For a town that only boasted 6,900 residents, Potter Lake had a church on every corner. A person could visit a different church every Sunday and not run out of churches for a few months.

  The fish fry wasn't just a fish fry. All manner of food — chicken, fish, pork chops, all the sides and famous desserts would be for sale. The annual event was a fund raiser for the town's recreation center and an unofficial competition between churches. Mount Pleasant Baptist had "won" every year for the last three years, bringing in more funds than any other church, but there'd been grumbling that it wasn't fair because they had three times the congregation of every other church in town.

  "Cheryl Ann's peach cobbler ain't better than mine, but folks show up to buy her out every year. I think Pastor Bell is bribing folks to come out and buy up all the food from Mount Pleasant tables." Earline was getting all worked up again. Her stylist, Tamera, chuckled while pulling rollers from her freshly washed and dried hair.

  "You think so?" My client asked, her soft voice riding just above the sound of the blow dryer. “They never have any food left at the end of the day."

  "Pearl," I chided, leveling a strong side eye via the mirror at the woman in my chair. "Do not encourage her. She doesn't have any proof for anything she's said today. Make that anything she's said in the last twenty years."

  "Oh hush. You just mad ain't nobody hangin' on to what you say."

  I chuckled while running my fingers through Pearl's mane, coating it with moisturizer. "I am not in competition with you, old lady. People buy up your cobbler too, and if I remember, Solid Rock sold clean out of food last year. Now, stay still so Tamera can finish your hair. I heard you have a date tonight. Who's taking you out?"

  I heard something about big mouth young people, and then the room darkened. I turned to find a tall figure blocking the sunlight.

  "Zeke standing in the doorway like he's expecting an invitation," said Earline, twisting around to stick her nose in some mo
re business. Tamera tapped her shoulder and she righted herself, giving a slight smile in the mirror. Earline never missed her two weekly appointment. Though her hair may have turned a brilliant white, it was still thick and lustrous and she was vain about its upkeep. Truth be told, Earline was vain about everything.

  "Zeke, come in, if you're coming,” I said, waving him inside before returning my hands to Pearl's hair. "We're trying to get some air circulating through here and you're blocking the flow."

  I waved him inside and, since he was so tall, he had to duck to enter the salon. Ezekiel Simmons was our resident "salesman". Anything you needed, from electronics to music and movies, Zeke probably had it in his trunk. I'd scolded him about selling bootleg media and boosted merchandise in my shop, so I gave him the "single eyebrow lift" to let him know I hadn't forgotten about the warning.

  Zeke gave me a slight head nod while a forest green backpack slipped from his shoulders. From inside he pulled various Ziplock bags, some stuffed with cords and cables, some holding devices still in packaging.

  "Afternoon, ladies. Any of y'all in need of— ” Zeke made a point of glancing at me before he finished his sentence. "Legit electronics, accessories, movies, new tunes? I got some of those sticks you put in your TV for extra channels." He moved through the shop, handing out bags and giving the usual spiel. "I got Amazon fire sticks, charge cords for your cell phones and your tablets. I got cell phones and tablets too! Talk to ya grandbabies from wherever you are."

  "There you go talking about grandbabies, Zeke," Angela chided, reaching for one of the bags. "Not all of us are old and tired."

  "Who you callin' old and tired?" Earline primped in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. She'd even had her eyebrows shaped. “I’m going dancing at the senior center. What are you doing tonight? Warming up the left side of your couch?"

  "Zeke, let me see one of those chargers," said Pearl. "Is this one where I can charge my phone in the car?"

  "Yes, ma'am," he answered, stepping right to her and squatting so he was eye level with her.

  The clatter of voices and commotion in the shop was one of my favorite sounds. I inherited Curl&Dye from my mother, who'd inherited it from her mother. The salon once consisted of a kitchen chair set on a hastily built sunporch on the side of a little country house. When it was cold or it rained, Grandy couldn't do hair because the porch didn't have walls. Eventually, Pop enclosed the space and Grandy operated out of the house until the lines got too long.

  Mama took over and moved the shop into town. Since she was the only beauty salon outside Healy and ladies had to get their hair done for Sunday church service, she always had a full shop. Women would wait for hours to get their hair done by Lee Baker.

  I never intended to be third in a line of Baker women at the helm of the Curl & Dye. Running a salon was never going to be my livelihood, but three years ago, I had to leave my job at a Chicago investment firm… in a hurry. When you're dating one of the managing partners and he's about to be investigated for fraud, a small town is a great place to hide from the men in black suits and wingtips.

  Potter Lake wasn’t the kind of place where my business degree would matter, so I went to Healy School of Beauty, twenty miles west of Potter Lake. I learned the mechanics of hair care and was eager to bring new techniques and brands to a shop that was still using Dark & Lovely, Blue Magic Hair Grease and Pink Oil – products that had long since become taboo in the Chicago shop where I'd been a regular.

  After Grandy’s stroke, Mama wanted to dedicate more time to taking care of her. Not only that, but the shop just wasn't as busy as it used to be. The Curl&Dye was a Potter Lake institution, almost as old as the little town itself, but once the textile mill closed and townspeople lost their jobs, clientele started to drop off. If I didn’t take over the shop, she would have closed its doors; I took the bait.

  I plowed what I could into renovations, breathing life into dark, plain rooms. Bright paint went on the wall, Mama's old salon chairs got a good clean and polish, and I started recruiting stylists from Healy School of Beauty. The shop pulsed with new life for a while, but it's been slowly declining again. Noise, while a sign of good business, doesn't pay the light bill or the rent.

  A shrill ring added to the sounds in the air. Since she was the closest, Tamera reached over the partition separating the front desk from the rest of the salon.

  "Curl & Dye, Tamera speakin'... hey there, Ms. Paulette." She winced, reaching for the appointment book. "I can fit you in around five. Five thirty works fine. You want a full set?" She scratched details across the block marked 5PM, then paused. "A pedicure, too? We’re goin' all out tonight. I got you."

  Tamera dropped the phone back into its cradle and shot me a withering look. "She's bringing her ugly feet in here around five thirty."

  I tried to hold in my snicker, but it didn't work. The rule was that if you caught it, you took it, unless someone wanted to take it for you. Hardly anyone wanted to take Ms. Paulette.

  "Got to stop being so eager to answer the phone."

  "Got to stop putting me at this station right next to the phone. If I don't answer, I get the ugly eye like I'm the receptionist." She finished fluffing Earline's hair and handed her a small mirror. "Ms. Earline, make a young stylist happy and tell me how you like your hair and these eyebrows."

  "Well, I think I look right nice," she declared after a few moments of close inspection. "My date is going to like looking at me." The entire shop erupted in laughter, to which Earline paid no attention. Tamera whipped the smock away with a flourish and Earline rose from the chair, little black purse in hand.

  "You never told us who you're going dancing with, Earline." I removed the smock from Pearl's shoulders and offered her a hand to help her stand.

  "And I'm not going to, because it's none of your business."

  "She's going out with that handsome Colonel Davis, the one that just moved here from Healy. He's in one of those new townhomes they built over on the other side of the lake.”

  Earline frowned. "Pearl, I swear, your mouth is big as I don't know what. If only your brain was as big."

  "It's not like it's a secret. Y'all been having lunch every week for a month!"

  I hid my amusement at Earline being bested while she and Pearl paid their bill. "Have a nice day ladies. Earline, I'll expect an update on tonight's date."

  "You can expect all you want. Don't mean you'll get it."

  "Come on here, old lady," said Pearl, pulling her friend out of the door and into the sunshine.

  "She sure don't like being gossiped about, but she'll tell you everything about everyone else," grumbled Tamera.

  "Sometimes she'll get carried away and talk about you to your face." I laughed, uncapped a bottle of water and took a healthy swig.

  "Now that Earline is gone, we can talk about her boss," said Angela. "Did you hear that one of those big box stores is supposed to break ground later this year?”

  "Wait a minute," said Tamera, pausing while cleaning up her station and waiting for Ms. Paulette to come in for her appointment. "Every time I turn around, something new is going up over there. I thought we were supposed to be voting on which businesses were coming to Potter Lake.”

  "Well,” Angela continued, leaning forward. “You know my husband, Eugene, sits on the city council. Apparently, the Mayor wasn't even going to show them the bids for construction. The contract went to some Healy Company that bid it out for less than it'll cost to build, so you know they're going to be taking shortcuts, using cheap material. Anyway, Eugene said it looks like it's going to be one of those one stop shop kind of places. You know, where you can get gas and groceries and some flip flops and a microwave all in one place."

  I grabbed the broom from Tamera since she was just leaning against it. "Mayor Adams is not doing what he said he was going to do. He said he wanted to prop up the economy by helping people open businesses on that land that's just sitting over there. He didn't say anything about selling it all off and
putting Pinkney's Grocery and Gitty Up Gas and Ella's Boutique out of business. He didn't anything about putting money in some pockets over in Healy and not hiring able-bodied folks right here in Potter Lake to do the building. The Curl & Dye is already suffering with that new co-ed salon over there— "

  "Guys N' Dolls, you mean?" Angela asked.

  I suppressed a shiver at the mere mention of the name of that shop. "Nobody asked Kade Cavanaugh to bring his NBA money back to Potter Lake and throw it around. Let alone to open a salon, knowing good and well Curl & Dye is over here."

  Angela chuckled. "Well, I'm sure the Mayor was a little starstruck to know Kade was back in town. And then to know he wanted to invest some money?" She shook her head, eyebrows lifted. “He fell for Mayor Adams' scam hook, line and sinker. "

  "I don't know how much of a scam it is. He's got a full salon and we don't."

  "Eugene went in there and got his hair cut last week on his way home from work. He said it was cheap; I said it looked cheap, like the barber took a weed wacker to his head. I told him not to go back in there, looking like who did it and why."

  My head wagged slowly, side to side as I handed the broom back to Tamera. "People like new and cheap, and unfortunately, that shop fits the bill."

  We closed at 8 o’clock on Fridays, but unless I had appointments, I started cleaning up my station around seven. Tamera and I ended up tag teaming Paulette and her hammer toes. Gisela and Evonne, recent Healy Beauty graduates fulfilling their apprenticeship requirements, began their end-of-day routines as well.