Leslie's Curl & Dye Page 14

  A few minutes after 6 o’clock, Leslie walked in, wearing an army green, button down belted dress that just hit her knees and a pair of low-heeled sandals. Her locs were twisted up in a bun so the gold hoops in her ears caught the summer evening light. Her skin was golden, like she’d spent her day in the sun.

  I stood so she could see me and waved her over. Her vibrant lips bent into a smile at the hostess and then, surprisingly, smiled at me as she approached the table.

  “Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” she said, sliding into the other side of the booth and dumping her keys into the small bag she’d sat next to her. She flipped her shades up so they were perched on top of her head. “I only had two appointments today so I spent the afternoon with Grandy.”

  “Oh yeah? How’s she doing?”

  “She’s always the same,” she answered. “We take turns going, so she always has someone around. She likes sitting outside, so after lunch we sat on the porch and I read her newspapers and magazines aloud. She seemed to like that.”

  “That’s nice. My dad said he’s putting a swing out on the back porch for my mom. She’ll really like that.”

  “I bet she will. I’d love to see pictures of this house your parents are building. It sounds amazing.”

  “It really does. I mean, this is the last…” I paused, glancing across the table at her. She gave me a small smile. She got it. “It’s going to be their dream home. Everything she wants, she’s getting.”

  “I’m a little surprised you’re not out there helping.”

  I laughed, relaxing against the fabric of the booth. “You know I’m not about that life. I spent my off seasons at home, helping here and there. I brought him along when I built houses for Habitat for Humanity. But…” I let out a grunt, shaking my head. “That’s as far as that goes. We clash, big time. Can you work with your mom?”

  She tipped her head side to side and hummed. “I guess we did okay, when I first moved back. There was a lot about hair care that she had taught me over the years that I had to unlearn and then teach her. She wasn’t very receptive at first but she came around. And then she turned the shop over to me, so… I guess she trusted me.”

  “My folks can’t believe I did this. You know, moved back here, opened up a salon—”

  “Well they must think you’re crazy now. Do they know you’re running for Mayor?”

  I nodded, trying to hold in my laughter. “They’re like you. Skeptical.”

  “I’m not skeptical! I just….” She paused, her lips moving but no sound coming from them. Then she laughed. “Okay, I’m skeptical. But this is our shot to take this town back. We have to take it, right?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded, reaching for my bag where I’d stashed my notes and folders. I pulled out a few stacks and started spreading them across the table. “Speaking of all that, I’m registered as an official candidate. That was the easy part. Now I need to put together my campaign. I’ve been doing some research, and I like how Obama came up. I think I can take some tactics from his Senate run and maybe his Presidential run as well. Focus on the people, focus on the issues, make people feel like they’re part of the process.”

  I slid my folder of printouts over to her, which included the standard wikipedia page, plus a few articles from the era where we actually had a black President. “Like, I’m watching what’s going on nationally and I don’t want to look like an idiot. I’ve never been a Mayor before but that doesn’t mean I can walk into the job with no knowledge.”

  Leslie was flipping through the folder, nodding and humming. “Well, if you want to come up like Obama, you’re going to have to get in people’s faces. There was no one too low in position for him to speak to. He would bump fists with the janitor.”

  “Okay… so. You’re saying I need to spend some time with the people out here.”

  “Exactly. And you need to concentrate on the old side of town. Those people are diehard Adams supporters. Put your energy into winning them over.”

  “Okay. How should I do that? Just… stand on Main Street and wave? Shake hands as people walk by? Hand out money?”

  Leslie chuckled. “Spend real time with them. Patronize their businesses. Spend money. Ask questions about current city government and really listen. We go to Mayor Adams with a lot of suggestions, but if it doesn’t make him money, it never gets implemented.”

  “I can do that. But I mean… where do I start?”

  “Honestly… at the Curl & Dye. Aside from the Kit Kat, it’s the place people gather to talk about goings-on around town. You’ll meet people. Get some invites to dinner, probably.” She paused to wink. “Might get asked out on a few dates.”

  “Aw, man. I definitely don’t know how to handle that.”

  “It won’t be as bad as you think. It’ll mostly be middle aged women flirting and their husbands standing behind them grumbling.”

  “So I should start at the Curl & Dye, huh?”

  “Yeah. You might pick up some techniques for when you’re sick of offering that tired generic cut.”

  “That cut gives me a good profit margin.”

  “But does the cut make your shop a place people want to hang out? People should feel taken care of, at a salon. It’s more than an item on a to-do list. A haircut, a manicure or pedicure is self care, especially for those who don’t have much to spend. People shouldn’t feel like cattle at a salon, KC.”

  “Okay. I hear you.”

  She smirked as she waved down a waitress. “I’m going to get a drink. You?”

  “I got you. What are you drinking? And they don’t serve Trashcan Punch here.”

  Leslie glowed red, then tossed her head back and laughed. “I hate that you reminded me of that, KC. I really, really do.”

  She ordered some fancy craft beer. I tacked onto her order and waited for the waitress to leave the table. “So, won’t people see right through me hanging out on that side of town? Won’t it look like I’m pandering for votes?”

  “Yes, they’ll see through it. And yeah, it’ll look like you’re pandering for votes. That doesn’t meant it won’t work. And it’s better than doing nothing and hoping people will see your name on the ballot and suddenly change their minds about who to vote for. You have to get your face out there. Speaking of your face…”

  She stopped talking long enough to accept a bottle wrapped in a napkin and a tall, empty glass. I watched her empty half of the bottle into the glass and sip some foam off the top, then lick her lips. I stifled a groan… how did she not know how sexy that was?

  The waitress set a Sweetwater Ale in front of me and left a menu on the table, which I grabbed and started to leaf through, even though I knew it front to back by heart.

  “You need some publicity. Billboards, fliers, posters, mailers. Maybe some newspaper articles, some news interviews.”

  “I still have my headshots from my last team photoshoot—”

  But Leslie was shaking her head. “You need people to think you’re a hometown guy, not a rich baller. You need at least one current, casual shot. A photo taken here, in Potter Lake. Maybe…”

  I saw the wheels turning in her head and my eyes narrowed. Whatever was running through her mind caused her to draw her bottom lip between her teeth and chew on it for a few moments.

  “Right before the city council meeting, I saw that the basketball association was looking for a coach. You could— ”

  “Oh, no. Nope.” I shook my head and pursed my lips in defiance. “Nah.”

  “Why no, nope, nah? You know how to play ball and those kids will look up to you.”

  “You know what they say about those who can’t play basketball.”

  “What?” She giggled, making her brown eyes glow. “They coach? That’s a bad thing?”

  “Coaching is for people who are done, who are washed up, who can’t play anymore,” I spat.

  Leslie reared back at my outburst, her eyes wide. “Okay. I mean, whatever, KC. I thought it was a good photo opportunity and a chance
for you to get involved in something. Parents and grandparents— families need to know that you’re trustworthy.”

  I propped an elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, but that’s not me. My knee might give me shit, but I still run the court.”

  “Like I said, whatever. Sorry to bruise your ego by suggesting some area kids might love to be coached by you. Not to mention a photo of you playing basketball with our city’s youth would go a long way toward helping your image. But yeah, keep thinking it’s about you and running the court,” she finished, using air quotes in the most sarcastic way imaginable.

  “Okay, I’ll think about it. I’m listening to your suggestion. Anything else?”

  “No. Yes. Well… you’re not going to like this suggestion. And frankly, neither is she—”

  “She, who?” I asked, afraid of what the answer would turn out to be.

  “It’s just that… Tamera is a really good photographer. And if you offer to pay her for her time, she could do some nice shots for you.”

  I was already cackling in laughter the moment her name fell out of Leslie’s mouth. “You know that girl doesn’t like me. I’m supposed to trust her to take nice pictures of me?”

  “I’ll talk to her, KC. Like I said, if you pay her like a professional and treat her like one, and let me be there to sort of… buffer between the two of you, it’ll go fine. You’ll get a nice set of shots to use for advertisement.”

  “I don’t know if I trust Tamera. But you do, so…” I bumped my shoulders a few times as I sucked down half of my beer.

  “You know, it’s not that she doesn’t like you. It’s that we have mutually hated you since you left Healy. I’m over it but Tam…” She sighed, dropping her gaze to the table for a few moments before bringing them back up to meet mine. “I was hurt. My hurt made her angry.”

  “I'm sorry about that. That wasn't what I was going for. But if you’re over it, why isn’t she?”

  Leslie smiled. I noticed that even though she’d chewed on her lip, licked her lips and drank her beer that her lipstick hadn’t budged an inch. That meant that it would probably last through a wild, passionate kiss.

  Some part of me wanted to test that out.

  “Girlfriend code. She’s trying to protect me. Even now, she thinks you’re going to do the same thing you did back at Healy.”

  “Which was what? I didn’t do anything to you. I mean… nothing you didn’t want me to do.” I lobbed a smile across the table.

  “You know what I’m talking about, KC,” she shot back at me.

  “You and Tamera are always snapping at me about something and I swear I have no idea what your problem is.”

  “You were never gonna make a move, so I made one. We slept together. And it was nice, I thought.”

  “I did, too. I never said it wasn’t.”

  “Except the way you treated me after... it felt like you pushed me away. And then you left.”

  “You… thought I didn’t like being with you? And that I left because of that?”

  “That's how it played out in my head. I could never tell if you liked me back or just kept me around for entertainment. When we slept together I thought I had confirmation that you did like me. But then you kept me at arm’s length.”

  She paused, breaking eye contact. Her cheeks glowed pink and if I could blush, mine probably would have, too. I had no idea that actual, real feelings were in play.

  “Les… no offense but we’ve gotta move past all that. What can I do? What can I say? ‘Cause… I can’t keep apologizing for things that happened in college. Do you know how many lifetimes it has been since college?”

  “Yes, I know. And I told you, I’m over it. My best friend is not. You’re going to have to get on her good side. And the best way to do that is to put some money in her pocket.”

  I groaned, long and loud, which made Leslie laugh. I meant it, though. We had never really gotten along, but I didn’t see her regularly, back then. These days, I felt like I was wrestling a pit bull every day. “I need her to chill a little bit. I’m happy to back off but what I’m not going to do is let her attack me and not say anything. You know how I get when I feel cornered.”

  “I do. And no one wants that.” She grabbed the straps of her bag and started to scoot out of the booth. “Speaking of Tamera, she and I have a date. We watch The Suitor on Thursdays and since I’m over this way, I’m headed to her house.”

  “That corny dating show? Ya’ll watch that?”

  “By now we’re hate watching it. We don’t like any of the men and we think the female contestant is a bitch. But it’s fun to pop popcorn and drink wine and guess who’s getting voted off.”

  “I guess. I’m about to bounce, too. Kendrick and I are going to get in some time on the court in the park.”

  I left a few bills on the table and followed Leslie out of the restaurant, careful not to let my eyes drop to the way the dress clung to the shape of her ass.

  But I was far enough behind her that I didn’t have to drop my eyes to see it.

  “So, I’ll be in touch about the photo shoot. I’m going to call Arletha King over at the news station and see if I can hook up an interview. She covers the newspaper too so she’ll just do both at the same time.”

  She had reached her car and I’d followed, listening to her instructions. “And KC, remember what I said, about small towns. Stay out of trouble. Keep your nose… and other things… clean.” She winked, pulled open the door to get in the car but I grabbed it before she could.

  “Leslie. Hold up. Uh...I want to…”

  I’d paused long enough for her to cock an eyebrow and almost glare at me, urging me to finish my sentence. “You want to…”

  Maybe it was gratitude, maybe it was guilt, maybe it was just that she was beautiful standing in the sunlight, all the golden rays behind her, illuminating her skin like an angel. I don’t know what it was that came over me in that moment, but whatever it was made me lean over the open door and press my lips against hers.

  Right there in the parking lot outside Thai Bistro. And right after she told me to stay out of trouble and keep things clean. I was never good at following directions.

  I let my lips linger on hers before tilting my head and opening my mouth, teasing the seam of her lips until they opened and the tip of my tongue met hers. She tasted like hops. And mint.

  Before we could get in too deep, I pulled away, slowly ending the kiss. I took a small step back, in case she felt like hurling her purse at my head.

  “What…what...what...” Leslie stammered, blinking those pretty doe eyes at me. “What was that? What was that for, I mean?”

  “An apology. For making you think I didn’t like being with you. I really liked it, actually. I would have told you so, if you would have talked to me. I wouldn’t mind being with you again, to be honest.”

  I let go of the car door and stepped back, then turned around and walked to my truck, feeling the grin spread across my face the further I got away from her. I hadn’t been planning to do that.

  But I was glad I did. The game she and I were playing just took a dramatic turn.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leslie

  * * *

  “And I hope she throws him off a roof in next week’s episode.”

  My attention had been weaving in and out all evening. One minute I was wrapped up in this week’s episode of The Suitor. Neither of us wanted Anthony, the Boris Kodjoe look alike— he thought— to be a contender but it looked like he might make the final two.

  The next minute, my mind had wandered off to a place where I replayed the moment that KC’s lips touched mine in the parking lot at Thai Bistro. I didn’t see it coming and it didn’t last more than a few seconds, but it took up a ton of real estate in my mind.

  Well that, and it happening again because Tamera was right— I was hard up as hell. Dating in Potter Lake was non-existent. Smart people left and never
came back. I thought I was being smart. I just didn't realize my ex boyfriend was a crook and I would end up fleeing our home in the dead of night.

  Or the dead of a Sunday afternoon.

  “You hope she does what?” I asked Tamera, pulling myself, yet again, out of my daydream replay of that kiss. I reached for the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of us, but she grabbed it and held it off to the side, out of my reach.

  “Where is your head tonight? I’m over here talking away and you haven’t said three words all night. If you didn’t want to hang out, you could have said so.”

  “Oh, Tam…” I shook my head, looping an arm around her neck and bringing her close… then grabbing the bowl of popcorn from her. I giggled and dug in for a handful. “My brain is full today; I'm sorry. I'll try to be in the moment. What did you say about a roof?”

  “Anthony! I want her to throw him off a rooftop. I see why he’s single. He’s so insufferable.”

  I chewed a mouthful of popcorn and hummed my agreement. From trying to serenade the contestant, Michelle, with a ukulele that he couldn’t play to telling terribly unfunny jokes to acting like he was the world’s gift to women, Anthony was inarguably the worst contestant the show had ever had. Whatever the network was doing, it was infuriating.

  And it was working, because we were watching every week.

  “If he ends up being in the top two I don’t think I can watch the finale.”

  Tamera leaned forward and picked up a stemless wine goblet. “I keep saying I’m going to stop watching but it’s a train wreck. I can’t look away.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” I hummed again, my mind uncontrollably rolling in the direction I’d been trying to keep it from going all night.

  “There you go again. Leslie, what’s up with you?”

  “Nothing. I just had a long day, that’s all.”