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  I chuckled, as did Leslie. “Well, why not just move to Birmingham?”

  “By then we had children in school and friends. We built up a whole life here in Potter Lake. And you know, that means something. This town means something to us— we didn’t want to leave. Then the Mayor says he wanna bring some businesses over to Potter Lake, so maybe Walter wouldn't have to drive three hours to work and keep a place in another state, I was all for it. But….”

  She grunted, wagging her head, pursing her lips. “He ain’t built much that anybody cares for. Nothing Walter could retire from; some restaurants and gas stations and what not. We already had them here. And he’s steady inviting big box companies to build out here. We don’t want no Walmarts or KMarts. We’re just fine with Kwik-E-Mart.”

  “Okay, so… say I win this election. On day one, I invite you out to city hall and ask you what’s one thing I could do today to make your life easier. What’s your answer?”

  “Well…” She propped a hand on a hip as her gaze lowered to the dull linoleum. “I think a nice thing would be a little shuttle to go from place to place. We don’t have public transportation. Mayor said it takes too much money, but I’d rather pay toward that than a new convenience store. If you’re askin’, that’s what I’m sayin’.”

  Leslie hummed her agreement. I added another item to my growing list of town needs— street lights, neighborhood watch, road repair, paved sidewalks. And public transportation.

  I had to agree with Leslie— sitting in the shop was a great way to meet the real people that lived here, not just the recent transplants or those that still lived in Healy but commuted out here to work. I’d already heard so many stories and picked up so much history about the town. Mayor Adams had an advantage in that he’d lived in this town for most of his life.

  But he obviously didn't care about the people... so even if I was new, if I cared more, I could win over his most loyal supporters.

  “Thank you, Ms. Dolores. I appreciate you being honest with me. And I hope it continues.”

  “It’s no bother, young man.” She paused to beam a bright white smile at me. “Now, if you win, you let me know when I can come down to your office and give you an earful about what this town needs.”

  I smiled, tucking my pen back behind my ear and sliding the small moleskin notebook I’d been using into my back pocket. “I’m sure you won’t be the only one. Does Mayor Adams have regular town hall meetings, anything like that?”

  “He sure doesn’t,” snapped Tamera. “He barely goes to city council meetings and when he does, it’s the same story as it was a couple of weeks ago. He’s very much into the power he wields as Mayor and dares anyone to come up against him.”

  She untied her client’s cape and removed it, then hung it on a hook near her chair. A middle aged woman with a short salt and pepper afro stood and handed Tamera a few bills, telling her to keep the change.

  “Thank you, Ms. Jackie. See you next week?”

  The woman nodded and walked out of the shop, smiling as she passed me. Tamera used a towel to wipe down her chair, then tapped the back of it.

  “KC, come on over here. I’ve been staring at your hairline all day and I can’t take it anymore.”

  I stared at Tamera from across the room. Even Leslie stopped twisting to bounce her gaze between me and Tamera and back. “Uh… me? Come over there?”

  “Yeah, you. Come over here. I’ve been wanting to snap some candid shots of you, but you need a lineup and your fade is sloppy. Let me fix you up so you look good.”

  I glanced at Leslie but still didn’t move. I didn’t trust Tamera to not jack my hair up.

  As if she could read my mind, she laughed. “If I was gonna mess you up, I’d break into your house with some clippers. I’m not going to make you look bad. I promise.” She tapped the chair again, swiveling it around toward me. It was just… there. Welcoming me to sit.

  I groaned, then got up and slowly loped across the shop to Tamera’s station. I lowered myself into the chair and sat still while the cape floated over me, then draped around my shoulders.

  “I promise, I’m not gonna mess your hair up, KC. You want to look good in these pictures, so you can win this election, right?” She lowered her head next to mine and got close, so close I could feel her breath on my neck.

  “But since I have you here… I’m being nice to you because Leslie asked me to. I assume she asked you to do the same. I’ll play this game, but let’s get real clear on something: no one loves Leslie like I do. No one. And so help me, if you fuck with her… if you give her any reason to even think about shedding a tear over you, you will regret it. Not all my crazy is on display. There’s plenty in stock in the back. You get me?”

  I swallowed. And nodded.

  “Glad we’re on the same page. Hate to see you limping around here with two bad knees. We just have to act like the adults we are and get you into office. I can do that. Can you?

  Again, I nodded.

  “That’s good. Real good,” she responded, straightening. I heard a click and then the low buzz of the clippers near my ear. I closed my eyes and braced.

  A half hour later, I was grinning ear to ear. Tamera had done a great job with my cut and I was impressed. I would go so far as to say it was one of the best cuts I’d ever received, which was a problem because I ran a barbershop and my best friend had been taking care of my haircuts.

  “If you weren't so mean, you’d be my new barber,” I teased her, holding the mirror up so I could see the crisp, razor sharp line and classic low fade.

  “I don’t know why you sound so surprised.” She poked the broom around the chair, sweeping up tufts of hair and gathering them into a pile. “I can do hair. There has never been a doubt about that— man or woman, I’ll fix you up.”

  “She’s right,” Leslie agreed, putting the finishing touches on the twists she’d been installing. “But I can’t wait until doing hair becomes your side gig and you start doing your photography thing. You can snap a picture too.”

  “In time, in time. Maybe doing this campaign will get me some business. Speaking of…”

  Tamera opened a cabinet and pulled a bulky black bag from inside. A quick zip around the perimeter revealed two cameras and a set of lenses. A side pocket held a portable tripod.

  “Hey, yeah. You wanted to take some pictures today?” I slid her hand held mirror onto the cart she used to store her materials and untied the cape, pulling it from around my neck. I’d made it a point to look presentable, in a blue and white plaid shirt and pressed khakis, just in case I’d need proof that I did, in fact, venture over to the other side of Potter Lake.

  “Why don’t we take one by the front door, so everyone is working behind you. Leslie, can you manage to look busy for a second?”

  She smirked. “Doing what?”

  “Sit at the desk and pretend to make a phone call. I need good background action.”

  Leslie sighed and walked to the front desk, dragging her feet as she did so. As she passed me, she winked, then pulled out the chair at the desk and took a seat. By a stroke of fate, the phone actually rang and Leslie had to pick it up.

  “Okay, great!” She lifted the camera and brought it to her face. “Let’s get a shot real quick while she’s on the phone.”

  I stood in several poses and smiled so hard my teeth hurt before Tamera felt she got a good angle. We took that photo— and many others— several hundred times. By the time she put the camera down, I needed a break.

  “Can I stop pretending to still be on the phone?” I heard Leslie ask as I stepped outside, dragging one of the lobby chairs with me.

  “Yes, you whiner,” Tamera replied. “God forbid I ask you to do one thing for me—”

  “I got you this job, heifer.”

  “Who you callin’ a heifer?”

  “You, heifer!”

  Just when I was about to head back inside to break up a potential girl fight, I heard snorts and giggles. I shook my head. Women were
a trip.

  “I’ll be outside. By the way, that was Ms. Paulette on the phone. She said she’s coming in for you to do her pedicure.”

  “Unh uh, Leslie. If you catch it, you take it!”

  “Uhm, if you own the shop, you assign it to someone else. She’ll be here in a few minutes, so fix your face.”

  “I—”

  “Nope. I can’t hear you. Bye.”

  Leslie came out of the shop through the door that was propped open with a box fan. She was cute in jeans and a blouse that had cut outs where the sleeves should be. I’d seen the style on a lot of women lately but I liked it best on Leslie. Her gold sandals showed off painted toes and a toe ring and her locs hung down her back in a low ponytail. Simple. But beautiful.

  “Hey. You want to sit?” I moved to get up from the chair, but she raised a hand to stop me.

  “No, don’t get up. My spot is right here, on the curb. You want some water?” She handed me a bottle and sat down with hers. I felt stupid sitting in a chair while she was sitting on the sidewalk, so I got up and sat next to her.

  She didn’t say much once I sat down, just sipped her water until about half the bottle was gone. I sucked mine down in record time and, as was my habit, crushed the plastic bottle in my hand.

  Leslie laughed... just a chuckle at first, and then a long stream of giggles that sounded pretty. I just didn’t know what caused them.

  “You okay? I mean… the heat isn’t baking your brain, is it?”

  She shook her head, an errant strand swinging in front of her face. She grabbed it and tucked it into the ponytail. “It’s just… every once in awhile, something reminds me of you. I remember you doing that all the time with water bottles. It was… a memory.”

  “Oh.” I looked at the mess of crushed plastic in my hand. “Just a habit, I guess.”

  “Yeah. I guess.” She smiled and took another sip from her water bottle. “Sitting down here can’t be good for your knee, KC.”

  “Let me worry about my knee, alright? Everyone’s always worried about the knee. The knee is fine.”

  “Okay, damn!” She sucked her teeth and flung her head to the side with attitude. “Didn’t look fine when you limped in here this morning. I don’t remember you being so sensitive. I just didn’t want you to sit down here if you didn't want to.”

  “I’m right where I want to be.”

  That made her blush. Kinda made me blush, too. I hadn’t intended to show that much of my hand… but now it was out there. She hadn’t brought up the kiss, and I had no plans to but that didn’t mean I hadn’t been thinking about her, about how cool her mouth was, about how she smelled like brown sugar and vanilla, about how her skin looked like it had been kissed by a ray of sun.

  Leslie had worked her way into a large majority of my thoughts since that night. I had promised Kendrick that I would cool it with her, and I had every intention of doing so when I agreed. But now I was sitting next to her, listening to her laugh. I’d spent the day with her at this little rundown beauty shop that she loved so much that she was willing to cross the line and work with a mortal enemy to save it.

  I wasn’t sure I’d go through all of that for Guys N’ Dolls if it came down to it. There was no hometown connection, no history. We were just another shop and if something came along to threaten that, I’d like to think I would fight for us, but I’d probably just close up and do something else. I guessed that was the difference between me and her.

  “My knee is real stiff in the morning, until I get moving. Usually I work out, loosen it up, but I wanted to be here on time, not tired and sweaty, so…” I shrugged a shoulder. “That’s why I was limping this morning.”

  “Mmhmm.” Leslie hummed, giving me the suspicious side-eye. “KC you are always limping. I don’t know if you realize it, but—”

  “You know what? I do need to get out of here though. I have some things to take care of at the shop.”

  I pushed myself up from the sidewalk, suppressing a groan as I shifted my weight off of my bad knee. Eventually, I would have to make it back to the doctor, because the pain was getting worse. And yeah, I had noticed that I was always limping. That could mean a lot of things— re-injury, inflammation, or another, new injury. None of which I was in the mood to deal with.

  I offered Leslie a hand to help her stand, and she took it. While I had her hand in mine, I held it and pulled her close to me.

  “You want to come to the Kit Kat Lounge with me tonight?”

  Leslie chuckled. “You’re going to the Kat? The crowd is… I mean, those are real ass black people up in there. Not just old ladies coming to get their hair done. Not Thai Bistro kind of black people. You’re about to meet the real workers in this town. You feel that brave?”

  “I can handle it, so long as I have a beautiful tour guide beside me.”

  “Uhm…” Her eyes fluttered closed and for a second I thought she was going to say no. But they flicked open again and she said, “Sure. I’ll go. But… I think we should all go. Like, as a group. I can call ahead and get a table.”

  “Okay. Cool. So do they do bottle service or whatever?”

  She snickered. “No one at the Kit Kat knows what bottle service is. And you wouldn’t want it from them anyway. We get the table and that’s it.”

  “Alright. I guess I can deal. You want to meet me around 8 o’clock?”

  “Better make it 9. Most people don’t get over there until then.”

  I nodded. “See, you’re invaluable to me already.”

  “Un huh.” She slipped her hand out of mine and stepped back. “Don’t look like you’re going to a club in New York. Slacks, collared shirt, nothing designer if you can help it. Remember you’re trying to look trustworthy, not like you’re ballin’ out of control.”

  “When do I look like I’m ballin’ out of control?”

  She laughed. “Your shirt is Gucci, KC. Just tone it down. Bring cash, small bills. No Amex Black, no Blue, no VISA gold. Don’t flash your money, but do spend it. Get me?”

  I bobbed my head. Money spends, but don’t act like I own a money tree. “I got you.”

  “Good. I’m gonna…” She thumbed at the door before heading in that direction. “Get back on the clock. I’m actually doing Ms. Paulette’s feet. I just like to give Tam a hard time. I need to prep my station.”

  “See you around nine, then?”

  “Sure. Yeah. Nine,” she said, before turning on her heel and re-entering the shop.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It took every ounce of skill and cunning to convince Tamera to come out to the Kit Kat Lounge. I had to practically get on my knees before, begrudgingly, she agreed to come.

  “I don’t know why you even suggested that place to KC.” Tamera untied her apron and hung it on a hook. It was the end of a great business day and we were all heading home to have some dinner, change and meet at the lounge later.

  Word must have traveled around town that KC was at the Curl & Dye. We saw faces that we hadn’t seen in a long while, some people we hadn’t seen in nearly a year. Even a few men came in for a cut and a hot towel shave, a ritual involving pressing hot towels to the face and neck to soften up the hairs, then using a straight razor for a clean shave or trimmers to even out an unruly beard or goatee. The practice had been a staple at the shop many years ago, but most men these days didn’t— or wouldn’t take time to indulge.

  “Because it’s the perfect place to shill for votes,” I said. I locked the desk drawer and grabbed my bag and the bank deposit. Evonne and Tamera left the shop first. I followed behind and turned the two locks on the front door. “The people that frequent the Kat are going to be labor workers— construction, railroad personnel, mechanics. KC needs all of those votes and he needs to get in those faces personally because they’re not likely to pay attention to billboards and feel-good news stories.”

  I pointed the keyfob at my car. Clicks and beeps welcomed me as I approached. “Besides, they’re more likely to have followed h
is NBA career. He has a built-in reason for people to want to talk to him.”

  “Oh yeah,” Tamera mused. “I forgot about that small town hero thing he has going for him. Should be a fun night, sitting around listening to KC wax nostalgic about his basketball days.”

  Evonne, who I didn’t have to work very hard to convince, practically squealed. “I can’t wait! I can’t even believe I live in the same town as Kade Cavanaugh. And he came and hung out in my place of work all morning. And I get to hang out with him tonight?”

  She jingled her keys and added a dance to her step as she walked to her car. “See ya’ll tonight. I’m going home to get fine!”

  Tamera and I laughed, watching her lithe body cross the parking lot. “She’s fun,” I commented, nodding in Evonne’s direction. “What do you think about bringing her on? As a stylist?”

  Tamera pressed her lips together and twisted them to one side. “I’m not sure we have the clientele to sustain her full time. But if she can pay her chair rent and sell her share of product…” She shrugged. “She could make it work. That is, if we manage to stay open.”

  “Let me worry about that, Tam. People are starting to come back over here, for some reason. Not just today but the last week has been crazy with folks coming in. I don’t know what changed, but—”

  “Really, Les?” Her eyes rolled and she shifted her weight to one foot, planting a hand on her hip. “You really don’t know what changed?”

  “No. I really don’t. What?”

  “I heard someone say yesterday that Guys N’ Dolls didn’t have anyone over in the Dolls section so the manager said to come over here. Isn’t his sister the manager?”

  “I… I mean, I noticed an uptick but… you really think KC is sending business over here?”

  “That girl you did the twists for? Have you ever seen her before in your life? Where did she come from? How did she even find us?”