Coincidentally Kismet

23. Cam

CHAPTER 23

CAM

“9 TO 5” - DOLLY PARTON

S ome days are just better than others. There are days when everything is falling into place, exactly how it should, and then there are days like today. Similar to a bad hair day, today has been stressful with performing my assistant duties at the salon and trying to confirm models for my trials.

Daveed has a rigorous training program. Part of that program is bringing in a model for each function of a stylist’s role and demonstrating that you can meet his standards. This must be done before a stylist is given their own chair and allowed to start booking their own clients. There are six tasks that must be demonstrated:

#1 Perform a Blonde Bombshell Service: Full foil highlight with no breakage and optimal tone.

#2 Perform a Bake-like-a-Brownie Service: Full head of color, level 5 or darker.

#3 Perform a Men’s Cut he is right that I should have called him right away when I got back with Will. I’m not even clear on why I didn’t. Maybe I was worried he would think I’d officially lost it, or that I am so desperate for the past that I’m settling. No, that’s not right, Elliott isn’t like that. He might not agree with all my decisions, but he’s always there for me. No matter what. Ugh, I’m the worst!

“Cam, your appointment is here,” Micah says, looking like he is up to absolutely no good with the shit-eating grin he’s giving me.

“Wow, okay, I guess the military is all about being punctual, am I right?” I say trying not to reveal the bout of nausea that just swept over me.

“Something like that, I think. Hopefully they don’t all come prematurely,” he quips.

“Oh my God, Micah.” I laugh hysterically and he looks amused as we round the corner—oh crap. Smith didn’t come alone. Will is sitting right next to him on the small leather sofa in the waiting area, sporting a cocky look.

“Heyyy...I didn’t know you were both coming,” I say breathlessly as I shoot Smith a confused and somewhat exasperated look. Just the sight of Will in my space makes my head spin and the spot between my thighs heat. At the rate things are going, I’m going to need to start packing extra panties in my purse.

“Well, I’m not going to say that I’m not happy to see you, you look gorgeous as ever. But I’m actually not here for you, Wright,” Will says with a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, okay...ready, Smith? Wait, who are you here for then?” Confusion forces my feet to stay put.

“He’s with me, lovebug. He heard about the amazing head rub I give and simply couldn’t resist,” Micah pipes in, grabbing Will’s arm to lead him over to his chair.

Will’s face has transformed from holier-than-thou to pinched with confusion, and Smith is about to die laughing. It’s going to be an interesting evening, that’s for sure. Will has no idea what can of worms he just opened. Micah has been lusting after him since trivia night. I get it, I couldn't agree more with every downright naughty thing he has said about Will. I should be jealous, and maybe I am a little, if I’m honest with myself. However, I’ve seen and touched that coarse, curly hair before, and there is absolutely no way I would attempt blending a high and tight on him. My skills aren’t to that level, yet. Also, it’s going to be fun watching Will squirm under Micah’s advances. Micah does not do subtlety well.

I quickly move through Smith’s haircut. There isn’t much to cut, but it’s enough to count and get me a passing grade with Daveed. Then I take Smith into the Lather Lounge and give him the full treatment. Waxing his eyebrows is a once-in-a-lifetime experience—he whimpers more than most women do during a Brazilian. I wish I could have recorded it for Lo, but that’s against the rules and also probably would have been slightly incriminating. I may or may not have pulled a little harder than necessary as payback for all the sleepless nights I’ve had recently, thanks to him.

After Smith is waxed to perfection, I give him the warm towel treatment and wash his hair with peppermint-scented shampoo, spending extra time on his scalp massage so I can keep an eye on Micah and Will. We finish up about the same time, both Will and Smith looking completely relaxed, drunk on it, actually.

“Davenport, if you fuck this up, I’m going to sweep in and steal Cam for the head rubs alone,” Smith says, pointing at Will to let him know he’s serious.

“Don’t worry, William—or should I call you Rambo? Your bed will never be cold and empty unless you want it to be,” Micah winks at Will before grabbing his arm to help him sit up in the shampoo chair. Smith and I cackle until Daveed comes in and tells us to get a move on and that all the laughter is killing the vibe. Micah and I roll our eyes, but hustle back out front to finish them up.

After Will settles his bill, he asks me for a minute outside. Micah kills me with a look that says if I don’t go, I’ll never hear the end of it. So I agree. I was going anyway, but the added pressure didn’t hurt. Smith has already headed out and when we reach the front porch, he dips into his car to give us privacy. Will reaches out to brush a hair off my face, tenderly.

“Hey, you holding up, okay?” he asks sweetly.

“Yeah, much better now that almost all the trials are done. I only have two more to go.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed help?” His brow is furrowed in concern.

Blowing out a breath, I admit the truth to him, “I was afraid. I would be really nervous cutting your hair in general, and I knew doing it for the trial would make it worse. Are you mad?”

Relief washes over him. “No, not at all. Why would I be mad? I’ve just been worried about you this week, and when Smith told me you reached out for help because some people have canceled...well, I guess I felt guilty that I didn’t even know you were in a bad spot.”

I can see it in his eyes. He isn’t mad, he’s simply sad that I didn’t rely on him. If the roles were reversed, I would feel the same way. Why did I question him, why did I think something so small would upset him?

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to weigh you down with all this. I know I’ve been really short this week. I’ve just been under a lot of stress and haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve never wanted to succeed at something as much as I have with this.” I grab for his hand and give it a light squeeze before intertwining our fingers.

“I understand, but you can count on me. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help, if you need it. I want to support you, babe.” His lips tilt up with a small smile.

“Thanks, Will, truly. I’m really glad I got to see you tonight. You’ve been so good to me, I swear I’ll make this week up to you,” I reassure him despite my own reservations.If I can count on him, why do I feel so unsure?

He kisses me lightly, just a brief brush of his lips on mine, and yet the electricity instantly hits me like a jolt of espresso coursing through my veins. I can’t help but pull him into a hug. He’s comforting, and being in his arms is all that’s right in the world.

“I better let you get back in there. Call me when you get home, Wright.” He squeezes just a little tighter to let me know it’s not a request. He cares, I think.

“Okay, Rambo. I’ll call ya, I guess.”

“Friday, I want to spend some time with you...if you can swing it.”

“Sure, I’ll make it work. I’ll call you later,” I say as I press another soft kiss to his cheek and brush past him, heading back inside to resume my duties. I don’t want to walk away right now, and I may be done with clients for the day, but I’m not done with cleaning brushes, sweeping up my mess, and talking with Daveed about my trials. Duty calls.