Chapter 23
Kat
Istepped into Wild Ivy Salon, fingers crossed that they took walk-ins.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Exiled Reapers logo on the counter.
It seemed like they had their fingers in a lot of cookie jars.
But I was ninety-nine percent certain Mav wouldn’t be popping up this time, so I stayed.
Plus I was desperate. I needed time to myself to sort through the roller coaster of emotions the day had delivered.
The salon was cute, much nicer than what I’d expected for a small town.
Maybe I was a snob. I reached up and twisted one of my diamond stud earrings.
Would it be too obvious if I shoved them into my purse?
My Dooney and Bourke purse? I sighed. When had I become so into labels?
I thought back to college, when I’d shown up to the accounting department mixer in off-brand clothes I’d picked up at a discount store.
No one said anything, but I felt it. I felt the difference as I stood next to the girls in designer clothes.
They had a different vibe, an unspoken confidence that I lacked.
The alumni who were there to inspire us to greatness didn’t even notice me.
As if they knew I wasn’t cut out for their world if I wasn’t born into it.
Mav’s grin flashed in my mind. Okay, some things were more satisfying than that. But I wasn’t thinking about him right now. I hated how we went from that perfect moment in the sky to a dumpster fire when I asked about his club.
A woman with dark hair and pink tips walked to the front desk. “Hey there. How can I help you today?”
I shrugged. “Honestly, I need to disappear for a few hours. I was hoping you could fit me in for something. I don’t care what.”
“Oh, how fun! Your hair is gorgeous.”
I ran my fingers over my braid. I did have amazing hair; she wasn’t just feeding me a line. But I didn’t know her well enough to let her touch it. “Not the hair.”
The lady nodded. “I can do a facial, manicure, or—” She looked up and her eyes brightened. “Have you ever had your lashes tinted and curled?”
“My eyelashes?”
The woman nodded, her body vibrating with excitement. “Yeah! I see you’re wearing mascara. How would it feel not to worry about that for the next four to six weeks?”
I shrugged. “Uh, great?” Putting on mascara took me all of one minute, but I guess that added up after a while.
“Perfect! This is a brand-new service, and you’ll be the first to try it out!”
I took a step back and waved my hands. My nails were chipping on the sides. “Maybe I should go with a manicure.”
“We can do that, too.” Her eyes clocked the logo on my purse. Fuck, maybe I did need to tone it down a bit. I might as well be walking around with a money clip.
“I’m Ivy, by the way.” She held out her hand, and I shook it. “And don’t worry, I own the place, so I know what I’m doing.”
Relief filled my chest as Ivy walked me to a station in the back. “So, you’ve done this before? Just not at this salon?” As owner, she must have years and years of experience. Although she looked to be in her early twenties. Maybe I should add that facial. It must be magical.
Ivy laughed. “This is the only salon I’ve worked at, outside of school. But don’t worry, I’ve practiced on Foxy multiple times.”
“Foxy?”
“Yeah.” She pointed toward an arcade machine where a mannequin head sat on a shelf. It was surprisingly lifelike with blond curly hair and dark eyelashes that I could see from across the room. “And she didn’t complain one bit.”
***
One hour and a set of Betty Boop eyelashes later, I was in another chair for a mani-pedi.
The day had been reserved for a bridal party, but after the bride walked in on the cheating groom, the wedding and the appointment were cancelled.
Ivy, being a total girl’s girl, refunded the deposit even though it was too late to book new clients.
Which was how I’d ended up having Ivy all to myself.
“She should go on the honeymoon alone and find a vacation hookup.”
Ivy murmured her agreement as I blinked. And blinked some more. Ivy assured me I’d get used to my perma-curled lashes in a few days. It wasn’t that I didn’t like them—and given the amount of crying I’d done in the last few days, I’d appreciate not wearing mascara—they just felt weird.
“I’ll make a note to use less of a curl next time.”
I snorted. “I’m not sure there will be a next time.”
Ivy’s face fell and she pulled back from my nails. “Are you serious? Oh my god, I am so sorry. I can do a complimentary set of fake lashes, if you want to try that.” And now she looked about to cry.
“No, it’s not that. I’m only in town temporarily to help my dad out. I’m four weeks into a six week leave of absence from my job. By the time these need to be redone, I’ll be back home in Maryland.”
“Oh.” Ivy sighed, visibly relieved. “That makes me feel much better. I mean, I suppose I’d feel even better if you liked me so much you were willing to travel multiple hours to get to me, but it’s cool. I get it.”
I smiled. “Well, I plan to come back to visit my dad more often. I can try to coordinate a trip to the salon.”
Ivy’s shoulders rocked as she did a little dance in her chair. “That would be amazing! I’ve only been open a few months. There’s been a steady stream of customers, but it’s nerve-wracking to own your own business, ya know?”
I nibbled my lip. “Is it all yours? I saw the Exiled Reapers logo up front.” I hoped she wouldn’t kick me out mid-manicure for being too nosey, but I was desperate to know more about the club.
Ivy didn’t miss a beat. “My old man is part of the club. They helped me set it up, but it’s all mine. Stitch insisted on the logo as a warning, in case anybody decided to rob me.” She rolled her eyes. “It was probably more so nobody would hit on me.”
Oh, this was getting good. “Which one are you dating?”
Her eyes softened. “Stitch. He’s their medic.”
“I don’t think I’ve met him. My dad lives next to their compound.”
Ivy’s eyes lit up. “Wait, are you Noodle’s sister?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Her mouth turned into a smirk. “I’ve heard about you. The pretty girl next door. Uh-huh. I also offer waxes.” Her eyes drifted to my lap.
I barked out a laugh. “Ivy!”
She shrugged. “Just putting it out there. Bikini, Brazilian. Strip, no strip. You just let me know.”
I took a deep breath, drawing up my courage. “And you and the medic are… good? Like you’re okay with the… things they get up to?”
Ivy paused and pulled her hand with the polish away, giving me her full attention. “One hundred percent. The world is pretty fucked up, and part of the reason is because the people in power get to play by their own rules. So why shouldn’t some of the good guys get to do the same?”
“The good guys?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. Trust me. I came from another club where my stepbrother was president. They were awful, and these guys helped me get away and made it so that I am the happy and healthy business owner you see today.” She raised her arms with a flourish and returned to my nails.
“Now, what about you? You seem like the business woman type. Do you own your own business?”
I took the hint. I was dying to ask more questions, but the subject was officially changed.
“No. I work for a company. Being my own boss is appealing, but I’m not sure I’d be able to take that risk. What if I couldn’t book clients? What if I set my prices too low? Or too high? What if I needed the IT department to fix my computer?”
“Oh, I get that. Trust me. It would be much easier to rent a booth somewhere. To cut hair, clean my tools, and go home without the extra worries of paying bills, doing payroll, and all that crap. But I had a specific vision for the salon I wanted to work in, and the only way I could have that was by creating it myself. Okay, these are done, now for your toes.”
I leaned back in the chair and admired my sheer bliss nails. “I’ve been called a control freak from time to time, so if I could get past the worry, I’d probably love working for myself. As a CPA, I could accept only the projects I was interested in.”
“What kinds of projects? I would have thought numbers were numbers. Is there really that much difference?”
Ivy tossed the dirty cotton ball with my old polish into the trash placed my feet in the mini tub. I sighed, enjoying the way the mini jets massaged my feet.
“It’s not so much the what as the who. If I was on my own, my overhead would be pretty low, so I could keep my prices down for small businesses and nonprofits.
Like an on-call CFO for the little guy.” I thought back to the business plan I’d made for my senior seminar.
It was a na?ve pipe dream, but it had earned an A.
And that was the only reason I still held on to it, flipping through its pages every so often.
“Sounds like maybe you have thought about it.” Ivy wiped my feet dry and pulled out the polish. “Let me know when you start and I’ll be your first customer.”
“Oh, it’ll probably never happen. But it’s fun to dream.”
Ivy smiled and turned her attention to my toes. “It can be. But take it from someone who spent most of her life dreaming, the real fun happens when you wake up.”