Preview | At His Discretion #4
“Did you say one fifty?” he asks as I come back in, blinking at them in confusion as he glares at me.
“What? Yeah. It was a standard…” I trail off, immediately realizing my mistake.
I used premium products and gave her a blow-out, too, so the cost has gone over $200. The salon has high-end rates, and Lewis has worked his ass off to be able to charge what he does.
“Oh my God, Milly, I’m sorry. I must have misquoted the?—”
“I’m not paying it,” she says, flicking her perfectly styled hair over one shoulder. “This was your mistake, not mine.”
“It would only be two fifty, I think,” I say. She’s had the same treatment before, so she should know the cost very well, but she just scoffs at me.
“Only two fifty? You quoted me a hundred less than that. I’m not paying it. I didn’t agree to that.”
Lewis’s mouth is working, his brow furrowed as he jabs at the iPad in his hands.
“That’s no problem, ma’am,” he says in a controlled voice. “It was an error on our part, and we’ll absorb the cost.”
Milly grunts, getting out her credit card and handing it over. Once the confusion with the bill is settled, it’s like a switch is flipped, and she’s all smiles again.
“I can’t believe this weather. God, it’s going to ruin all your good work,” she says, fixing me with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen as I fidget in place, waiting for Lewis to tell me the damage.
When he says, “we’ll absorb the cost,” he means it’ll be deducted from my pay. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time this has happened, either.
God fucking damn it.
As I stand there, waiting for Milly to leave and feeling about four inches tall, Bethany walks in. She looks perfectly turned out with a beautiful floral umbrella in hand, stepping into the salon out of the rain as if she’s a model in a fashion show.
She gives me a big, beautiful smile as she passes. I manage to return it, even as Milly takes her card back and nods at Lewis.
“Sorry for the confusion,” he says as she sniffs, spinning away and pulling an umbrella from her bag as she saunters out.
“You owe me a hundred dollars, Vi,” Lewis says sharply once the door is closed behind her. “That’s the third time this month you’ve messed up like this. And you’re late four days out of five.”
My chest tightens, but I just nod meekly. There’s no use arguing. Lewis opened the salon only a short time ago and could have chosen a more experienced stylist, but he took a chance on me, and I just keep fucking up.
“I can cover that,” a voice says from behind me, and Bethany steps up to the register, handing him her card.
“What?” Lewis says, staring at her in disbelief. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
“I insist. Violet’s done wonders with my hair lately. If it’s a mistake, it’s an innocent one, and I’m happy to pay it. Call it my tip to the salon for excellent service.”
Her card hovers between us as Lewis stutters and then takes it, charging her without a word, and then gives me a shrug as if we’re all square.
He heads into the back as I stare after him, turning to Bethany in total bewilderment.
“Why did you do that? I messed up… you shouldn’t have to pay for it.”
“He should absorb the costs for his staff’s mistakes,” she whispers. “That’s what being a business owner means. You only get paid for the clients you style, and then you make an error, and you have to cover it? I don’t think so.”
“But it’s a hundred dollars!” I say, mortified.
“Don’t worry, I’ll still tip you.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and Bethany laughs quietly, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder and squeezing lightly.
“I have the money, Vi, and I don’t like watching someone get bullied like that. People make mistakes. He needs to chill the fuck out.”
She walks over to my chair, sitting down with a flourish, and I can’t fight my smile, despite my embarrassment.
“Make me a summer goddess, please. I’m thinking lighter brown with some golden highlights.”
I step up to the chair, combing out her hair and arranging it reverently down her back.
“I owe you one,” I murmur as Lewis comes back to greet his next appointment. Bethany’s only response is to wink, and I get to work.
***
The great thing about coloring hair is that I can leave it to set while I work on other clients. Thanks to Bethany’s extra booking and the other three ladies I see in between, I’ve had a good day so far, and the last woman tipped me fifty bucks.
I’m unwrapping Bethany’s hair from the foils, the blonde streaks and highlights I’ve worked through her natural tones look phenomenal, if I do say so myself.
Once the final foil is out, she glances up at her reflection and raises her eyebrows.
“Oh wow, that’s gonna look great,” she says happily, and I grin.
“You’re definitely going to have a hot girl summer with this hair.”
“Thank fuck. After the last few months, I need a break.”
“Everything okay?” I ask, frowning at her in the mirror.
She shrugs her shoulders, and something flickers over her face, a look of real worry for a second before she shakes her head.
“Just family stuff. And some occasional work issues. You know how it is.”
I begin to comb through her hair as she places the magazine she was reading down on the shelf and sits further back in her seat. I catch her eye as I comb through the back, and she raises an eyebrow quizzically.
“Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living?” I say. “I’ve always wondered. You look like a model; is that it?”
She scoffs, chuckling. “No. I’m not a model. I just like to look good.”
“I can tell. Is that a Schiaparelli purse?” I ask, eyeing her clutch.
“Yep. I have five, actually.” She looks a little embarrassed. “I’m kind of obsessed.”
My hands drop to my side without conscious thought. “Wow. I can’t even afford a new backpack for my kid. Are you a lawyer?”
“Christ, no,” Bethany says, glancing behind me at Lewis, who is sweeping up some hair from his last client.
Once he’s done and has gone out the back, Bethany rummages in her bag and hands me something. It’s a business card with an embossed design across the front.
“Sterling House?” I ask, running my finger over the lettering. “What is that? A finance company or something?”
Bethany eyes me in the mirror. She has very dark, arresting brown eyes, and she gives me an intense look.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“What do you mean?” I say, frowning. “I asked, didn’t I?”
“Not everyone reacts well when they find out what I do. To be honest, I mostly keep it to myself.”
“Are you murdering people for a living or something?” I ask, and Bethany laughs, her whole body vibrating as she wipes at her eyes.
“No. Ha! Not that. But I’ve told some people before, and they haven’t been that kind.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Well, I’m the last person to judge anyone. People can do whatever they want with their lives, as long as they’re not hurting anybody. There’s no shame in any job.”
Bethany’s eyes crinkle as she smiles at me, glancing toward the rear door again, but Lewis must have gone out for a smoke.
“I’m an escort,” she says simply. “The agency represents me, and I work as an EA officially, but with ‘benefits’ for my clients. They pay through the nose for my services. It’s excellent money, and allows me to have the lifestyle I prefer.”
I stare at the card, not certain what to say at first, but then I cock my head to one side and meet her gaze.
“And you like it?”
“I do. Some clients are easier than others, and I’ve walked out on a few assholes, but the majority are great.”
I look down at the card again, as my stomach flips. There’s a reason she gave it to me; I can see it in her expression as she smirks, just waiting for the question she knows is coming.
“Are they hiring?” I whisper, looking back toward the door, just to triple-check Lewis isn’t around.
“They could be,” she says, repositioning herself in her chair and assessing me. “Are you sure you’d be up for it? It’s not everyone’s thing.”
I pocket the card, leaning on the counter, something about the understanding in her eyes loosening my tongue as I sigh heavily.
“My ex is trying to take my daughter away. I need money to fight him in court.”
Instantly, her mouth tightens into a grim line. “Seriously?”
I nod. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if he hires lawyers to fight it, I’m going to need one of my own. He’s seriously loaded.”
“Why’d you break up?” she asks simply.
“He went to China, leaving our daughter and me here. He decided to move there, and I didn’t want to go, so we split up. There’s more to it, but that’s the general gist.”
“Holy fuck. What a douchebag. Well, Sterling can help with the finances, for sure. If you get the right client, you can earn a lot.”
“You really think they’d want me? I don’t look like you. You’re like an Amazonian goddess.”
“Fuck you, you’re hot,” she says with a grin. “Although…”
“What?”
“You might need to change your look a little.”
I raise my eyebrows. “My look?”
“Nothing drastic. But we might need to change your hair and a few little details. Pink isn’t really their style. Do you happen to know a good stylist we could use?” She grins at me, her face brimming with promise.
Read the rest of At His Discretion HERE.