Leslie's Curl & Dye Page 5

  I turned back around and asked, "So you take care of your granddaughter?"

  She nodded, after gulping a few swallows of water. "I got her while my daughter is deployed. Army. She’s over in Afghanistan through the end of the year.”

  "And... she wanted to dye her hair gray because..."

  "Oh, it's the new thing; I don't understand it," she said, pawing at her silver streaked hair. "While most of us are coloring our grey out, all the young-uns at her school have silver hair. I thought it was silly, and I knew she'd look terrible, but she thinks she can get over on old Joyce. So I don't care what you do to her hair, so long as she doesn't look like a freak show when we leave here. She'll be working off what it costs to fix it, so throw everything at it. She'll learn that when I say no, I mean it."

  With that, she emitted a loud grunt and opened her large purse, pulling out a magazine and flipping open the cover. I stood and patted her on the shoulder. "We'll do our best to fix it."

  "Mmhmm," she hummed, flipping through her magazine.

  I returned to my station and joined Tamera and Evonne. "What's the plan?"

  Tam nodded at Evonne. "You're the student. How would you fix a dye job gone bad?"

  Evonne circled the chair, brushing the dry tresses with her fingertips. I loved when I could see the wheels turning, the mind rolling through options to correct a problem. "I'd start with a clarifying shampoo to strip the color out."

  Tamera nodded, waving at her to continue. "Then... I'd do a hot oil treatment. Leave it on for a good while. Then apply a nice chestnut brown to get it somewhere back to its natural shade. She shouldn’t do a thing to it except a weekly condition, and keep it moisturized.”

  I nodded, proud. So did Tamera. "I'm in full agreement with your diagnosis and plan of action. So... hop to it." I stepped aside and pulled Evonne behind the chair. "You can use my station since she's already here."

  "Oh...." Evonne's large brown eyes seemed even bigger in that moment, full of fear but also, if I wasn't mistaken, some anticipation. "You mean you want me to..."

  "Go for it," I encouraged. "Tam and I are here if you need us."

  "You're going to let a student work on my hair?" Patrice suddenly found her voice. It was shrill and whiny.

  "Patrice, honey..." I bent so I could whisper in her ear. "Right now, Evonne is your only hope. I suggest you pray that we don’t have to shave your head.”

  I felt her shoulders sag and watched her eyes slide closed in resignation. I chuckled and walked away. Evonne couldn’t do any worse than Patrice already had. She wouldn’t be playing in hair color again any time soon.

  Patrice and her grandmother didn't leave the shop until late, but she had a manageable head of dark brown hair, an armful of olive oil infused products and strict instructions from Evonne on how to baby her hair for the next few weeks. Mrs. Black was so impressed that she made an appointment for Patrice to return in four weeks.

  "Great job, Evonne. You saved her hair, because I’m sure Grandma was about to grab the clippers herself." I gave her a pat on the back and grinned at her proud expression.

  "Thanks. I appreciate the chance to do something besides a press and curl." She reached for the broom that I had in my hands and headed toward the stations. "I'm going to sweep up and get out of here."

  I sensed movement at the door and opened my mouth to let the customer know that we were just about to close. To my surprise, Kade Cavanaugh stood in the doorway.

  Earlier in the day he'd worn a pair of shorts that looked like he'd pulled them straight from the dryer and a misshapen t-shirt. Tonight, he wore khaki carpenter shorts and a form fitting black t-shirt that spread over his pecs and hugged his biceps and...whew.

  I reached out to grip my chair since I was a little light headed. A lightning bolt of attraction punched me in my chest and rushed through my body so quickly, so fiercely, it took me by surprise.

  I inhaled deeply, sucking in a steadying breath before I addressed him. "Evening, KC. I'd have thought your shop would be too busy for you to be over here, checking out your competition."

  He smiled, quietly laughing while his eyes surveyed the salon, starting at the reception desk, a plain old desk from Caine Brothers Wood Works. Then he took in the mismatched leather chairs that comprised the waiting area; the salon chairs with peeling vinyl patched with black tape and the shampoo bowl that was a refurbished and redesigned laundry sink.

  To the naked, and maybe the more upscale eye, the Curl & Dye wasn't much to look at. But people came to the Curl & Dye for the atmosphere.

  "I mean, with all due respect, Leslie..." KC shrugged and gestured toward the small salon. "You're not my competition."

  That lofty, lightheaded feeling was zapped as quickly as it came on. I felt like I landed face first on the pavement. There went my moment of attraction.

  Tamera stood beside me, her arms crossed. "Look who decided to slum it over on the old side of Potter Lake."

  "I’m not… slumming. I hadn't been over here since I moved back and— "

  "And you decided to pop in and start some shit with us?"

  KC's eyes narrowed and his brows formed "V" of irritation. The glare he gave Tamera gave me an uneasy feeling.

  "Tam, why don't you close out the day for me? Pull the receipts and get the deposit ready." I led her to the front desk and pulled out the chair for her to sit.

  As soon as she was settled, I grabbed KC's arm and guided him back out of the shop into the warm evening. I heard Tamera grumbling, not even under her breath, as she sat at the desk and began the daily closing ritual.

  "What do you want?" I asked him, noticing the enormous black Escalade parked in front of the window. "We're about to close up."

  He shrugged a shoulder, tossing his keys from one hand to the other. Back in college he used to do the same with a basketball. "I just... was around and— "

  "Bullshit. You have no reason to be on this side of the lake except to be snooping around this shop. So... what? You wanted to gloat? To say some more shit about stealing my clients?"

  "I'm not steal—" He heaved a deep sigh and shoved both hands into his pockets. "I felt bad. About earlier. You surprised me by showing up at the shop. I felt cornered and I get mouthy when I feel like that. Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot— "

  "No, I think the foot we got off on was right. You came out here and opened a business in direct competition with mine— "

  "That was not my intent, Leslie. I keep telling you, I didn't know this shop was here."

  "Well, now you do."

  I paused, giving a wide-eyed stare at ruggedly bushy eyebrows, at long, undeservedly lush lashes, at almond shaped eyes, at full lips and well-edged goatee.

  Damn, he was fine. Had always been fine but... damn, he was fine.

  "Now I do," he acknowledged, with a head nod. "All I'm saying is that we should be able to co-exist."

  "Co-exist? Seriously?”

  I gestured toward the building that was The Curl & Dye, catching a glimpse of Evonne and Tamera standing in the middle of the shop watching us talk. I pulled him away from the window, toward the driver side door of his truck.

  "It would be one thing if you were just a barbershop. Most of the men in this town do their own hair; they only come to me if they want something real nice. That cheap cut you offer is perfect for them."

  He scoffed, but I ignored it. "We can't co-exist because women are going to your shop instead of mine, for services I offer, my mother offered, my Grandy offered for years. Your shop could lose a customer or three and it wouldn't hit your bottom line. I need every client I can get. Your shop is some kind of..."

  I shrugged, shaking my head. "Get rich quick scheme, it seems. Except you're already rich, so now you're just being greedy. The Curl & Dye is my bread and butter. It keeps me and my parents in food and electricity and Grandy in good care at Primose Gardens. It's about more than a cheap haircut."

  I began to back away from him and his truck and his intoxicati
ngly sexy smelling cologne. It was making me heady and I was feeling all kinds of really familiar feelings from being too close to him.

  "I just want to run my shop, KC."

  "And I want to run mine," he responded, a hand splayed across his chest. "What do you want me to do, Leslie? Close up, give up my business ‘cause you got first dibs?"

  I sighed, lifting my face to the starry sky. "No," I finally answered, making my way toward the front door. "I want you to stay out of my way. You do your thing over on that side of the lake and I'll— "

  "Leslieeeeee!" Gisela's high pitched wail made me whip around, my eyes wide in expectation. She tore through the shop from the back room out to the parking lot. "The pipe busted again! Hurry!"

  "Shit!" I hissed, rushing back inside where water was gushing from the back room and quickly spreading through the shop and toward the front door.

  "Where's your shut off valve?" I heard KC yell, hot on my heels.

  "Behind the washer!" I yelled back. Tamera was already pulling the washer away from the wall. KC helped, easing the old monstrous machine out of its spot and reaching his long arms behind it to shut off the water at the valve. The busted pipe stopped gushing, now just trickling out what was left inside.

  Gisela and Evonne grabbed the towels stacked on the shelf and began sopping up water. Tamera grabbed the mop and bucket and began swiping waves toward the drain under the sink.

  KC was squatting in front of the pipe, inspecting it. "Looks like it's been soldered a couple of times. Not very well, though. This pipe needed to be replaced a long time ago, Leslie. It’s not to code."

  "I know," I said, leaning against the doorjamb. "The last time Jessup was here, they said it was a temporary fix until I replace them." I waved a hand at the mess that was our plumbing system. "The whole place needs to be redone. I just haven't... yet."

  "I could probably give you a better fix. At least replace this pipe. It'll buy you some time."

  KC looked up at me from his squatting position. His eyes were earnest, his expression neutral. It was as if time had never passed and we'd never had that conversation where I gave him an ultimatum. And he didn't take it.

  I chuckled, grabbing his arm, then laughed at the thought that I could pull him up. He was well over a hundred pounds heavier than me. "I don't need you to fix my pipes, KC."

  Not those pipes, anyway.

  Once he'd slowly made his way up, I urged him out of the shop and toward the front door. "I have a daddy and a granddaddy, and believe it or not, there's still a plumber or two over here. They'll come out and take care of it."

  KC stood next to his truck and glanced back at the other girls working hard to clean up the mess, like he didn’t want to leave.

  "Go on, get back to your shop. They must be helpless without you telling them exactly how to give that cheap ass haircut y'all do."

  "You got jokes." KC chuckled, the sound of it a light rumble from his chest that hit me directly in mine. My feelings were all out of control and I needed this man and his eyes and his laughter and his chest and his cologne to get the hell off of my side of Potter Lake.

  He opened the driver side door and climbed up into his truck, slamming the door shut. The truck roared to life a moment later, then I heard the quiet whirr of the window sliding down.

  "Not for nothin, but you know my dad is a General Contractor. I learned the business inside and out, growing up. I know my way around a busted pipe and some plumbing, too. Let me know if you need some help. Aight?"

  I rolled my eyes and turned to go back inside. I would have to be bleeding and on fire to ask that man for help.

  Chapter Six

  KC

  * * *

  "Excuse me, grump ass? What crawled up your butt? And where have you been all day?"

  I almost snapped at TC to mind her own business before I realized that my business was her business. And I was grumpy.

  After spending most of the day alone, sulking, I'd finally responded to Kendrick and TC's texts to meet them at Thai Bistro, a quick serve Asian fusion restaurant a few blocks away from Guys N' Dolls.

  We had tried most of the new restaurants that had opened up lately. Thai Bistro was one of our favorites. I showed up an hour late and slid into a booth next to TC, looking like I'd just rolled out of bed. Because I had.

  "Don't start, T. I'm just..." I grabbed a menu from the table, flipping it over to peruse the drinks. "My whole day was a waste of gas and a clean suit."

  “Your meeting with the Mayor was today, right?" Kendrick asked. When I nodded, he responded with a slow, single bob of his head.

  TC didn't quite catch my drift. "And?" She demanded, her lips twisted in a scowl.

  "And what? Does it look like it went well?"

  "Lay it out, man. What happened?"

  Kendrick waved down the waitress so I could order a drink. When she stepped away, I started talking about how my day began with hope and determination and ended with me wondering if I should just set my business on fire and collect an insurance check.

  Potter Lake City Government conducted business out of a two story brick building that was once a factory. The first time I'd met with the Mayor, he'd proudly given me a tour of the gutted and renovated space that held no resemblance to the carpet manufacturer that used to be housed there. Carney Carpets had been one of the first casualties of the downturn of the Potter Lake economy after a nearby textile mill closed.

  I'd dressed to impress, pulling out one of my old "post-game press conference" suits. I wore a new tie and pocket square, shined my shoes, and slid the agreement that had been drawn up between the Mayor and I into a thin folio. When I walked into that office, I was ready to talk, man to man. Businessman to businessman. Face to face. No more voicemail tag or unanswered email or dodging me in public.

  I greeted his receptionist, an older woman with a shock of brilliant white hair, deep cocoa skin and a racy shade of red lipstick on her lips. Her desk plate read Earline and though she was pleasant, her overall attitude told me she didn't put up with mess. I hadn't planned on giving her any trouble.

  "Have a seat, Mr. Cavanaugh," she said, after I had checked in. "I'll let you know when the Mayor is ready."

  I sat in one of the guest chairs to the right of the reception desk, which was a long plane of wood rumored to be salvaged from the former factory. It looked cheap and slapped together to me, but the Mayor had been so proud of himself for reusing materials that I just smiled and nodded while he gushed.

  While I waited, I reviewed my paperwork. The agreement that I'd signed with Mayor Adams and the City of Potter Lake stipulated that I'd receive a cash incentive and a break on city taxes once the business I’d promised to set up had been in successful operation for six months. Guys N' Dolls had been open three times that, but I hadn't seen a check, nor had I heard a firm date as to when I would receive it. He'd always said it was 'coming' or 'tied up in city council' or simply ignored my inquiries. We'd both signed the agreement nearly two years ago.

  A low warble sounded at Earline's desk and after a hushed exchange via the headset, she lifted her head and smiled. "Mayor Adams will see you now. Just down the hall, the first door on your left."

  Every step I took rang throughout the whisper-quiet office. The floors were hardwood, also original from the factory, stripped, stained and buffed to a shine. At the first door on the left, I stopped and stood in the doorway.

  "Sir," I called out, interrupting what seemed to be a riveting game of Solitaire.

  Mayor Quincy Adams stood, extending a hand to me as he crossed the room. The overhead light reflected in the shiny dome that was the crown of his head. He still held onto a few tufts of grey hair around the back and sides. I stepped into his office to meet him halfway, grasping his hand and giving it a few courteous pumps.

  "Young man!" He boomed. "So nice to see you. Thank you for coming in."

  I nodded, gracious as though he had invited me to his office when I was the one to request the meeting. Plea
santries exchanged, we each took our seats and got comfortable, eyeing one another, each waiting for the other to begin the meeting.

  "I stopped into the shop the other day," he finally said, pointing upward, to his head. "Got a nice edge-up from uh... Kendrick, I think it was. Gave me a good shine, too. Only eight dollars... helluva deal!"

  I nodded. "It looks great, sir. Glad we could be of service. The shop is exactly why I'm here, Mr. Adams— Mayor Adams. I was hoping to discuss this agreement we signed, about me opening up a business in Potter Lake in exchange for certain monetary promises— "

  I pulled the agreement from the folio and read from a highlighted page. "A tax abatement for the first year of operation and a cash incentive in the amount— "

  "Well, son..." He cleared his throat, bringing his hands together in steeple formation, tips touching. "Let me go ahead and stop you there. I realize it's been awhile since we talked." Mayor Adams paused to stare at his hands, heavily ringed. His fingernails had dirt underneath them. "Let's just say that the situation has changed."

  An eyebrow lifted, more out of curiosity than anger, but anger was quickly catching up. "Changed? How so?"

  "Ah...well..." He stalled, rising from his chair and beginning a slow pace across his expansive office. "Son, I'm afraid I let my tongue wag a little more than I should have. The City Council didn't actually approve the funds I had promised to incentivize business owners to open up shop in Potter Lake. They had earmarked those dollars toward a special project, which is already underway and— "

  "I have a contract that we both signed, right here in my hands—”

  "That isn't worth the paper it's printed on. The money isn't there. Simply put, I promised money that doesn't exist and there's nothing I can do about it."

  He paced one way and then another, refusing to catch my eye and the stare of death that I was leveling in his direction. "Now, I'm sorry. I know you were counting on it, but from what I hear, the shop is doing pretty well. You shouldn't even need the incentive. Every time I pass by, all the chairs are full and there's a line out the door. Guys N' Dolls must be raking it in, hand over fist."