27. Dante
CHAPTER 27
Dante
I wiped the wet, soapy rag down the length of the bar. Most of the students had already left town for winter break. Faith would be flying out in a day or two. Sadly, there’d been no time for a repeat performance of last week’s get-together. We’d have to wait until after the holidays to really get things going. I had plans to leave in the morning to head to Hinkley for a nice, cozy Christmas with Meemaw. The bar and my office would be closed over the next couple of days, so there wasn’t really too much to keep me in town. I just had one more errand to run, and then I’d be free to start packing. I tossed the dishrag into the sink of bubbles.
“Hey Wyatt, I’m heading out.”
A voice rang out from the supply closet down the hall. “Wait up. I have something for you.”
I thrust my arms into my coat and pulled on my hat as Wyatt caught up to me by the bar.
“Here. Lindsey made some Christmas cookies for you.” Wyatt passed me a round tin with a sparkly red bow on top.
“Wow. Thanks. She didn’t have to do that.”
Wyatt waved a hand. “Nah, she wanted to. You’d better take them. She doesn’t trust me to keep my hands off them. If I keep digging into the cookie jar, I’ll have to start going to the gym with you.”
“And that right there is why I’ll never get hitched.”
“Why, because you don’t like cookies?” Wyatt smirked.
“No, dude. I don’t like some woman playing mind games with me. So what if you eat all the cookies? She’s going to stop loving you if you gain a few pounds? That’s bullshit.”
Wyatt shook his head. “It’s not like that, asswipe. She knows I’ll eat all the cookies and then be pissed at myself afterward. So, she’s helping me by making sure I get rid of them all first.”
“Whatever.” I grabbed my backpack and slung it over a shoulder.
“Just take the damn cookies, Dante. Some of us actually like having someone looking out for us.”
“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” I gave him a playful punch in the arm. “Didn’t figure you as the kind of guy who’d cut off his balls for a batch of snickerdoodles.”
“You don’t get it. Get on out of here. Run home to Meemaw. She might be the only woman who’ll ever give you a chance.”
“Yeah, she’s probably got a whole batch of sugar cookies just waiting for me.” I tucked the tin under my arm. “And she won’t care if I eat every last one.”
Ten minutes later, I walked through the front doorway of the Sashay Salon, jingling the bell over the door and causing the customers to turn their attention my way. I always felt a little conspicuous walking in the door. Even though Tameka had agreed to change the color scheme to black and silver and started marketing to male clients, I was still usually the only guy in the place.
While I waited for her to come out from the back, I sat down in one of the chairs. The women had gone back to their chatting, and I picked up bits and pieces of their conversation.
“You should get a copy. It was an amazing read...”
“I didn’t know a guy could be that romantic...”
The sight of Tameka coming from the backroom interrupted my eavesdropping. “Well, hi there, Dante. Thanks so much for stopping by.”
“No problem. Looks like you’re pretty busy, so that’s a good sign,” I said.
“Yeah, business has really picked up since I started working with your team. Y’all really know what you’re doing.”
I’d been apprehensive about taking on a salon with my group. Thankfully, we’d pulled together. If I could keep up the good work, I’d be able to get a kick-ass reference from the professor, which would go a long way in securing my move to a bigger company. Most of those jobs required some sort of teaching or training experience.
“We’re happy to help. Do you want to talk here, or should we go in the back?”
She waved her hand at the chattering women. “Don’t mind them, they’re just comparing notes on their new favorite book.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked.
“Some steamy romance.” She laughed.
One of the customers whirled around in her salon chair. Strips of aluminum foil stuck out of her head like some glammed-up space alien. “It’s not just a steamy romance novel, Tameka. It’s a life changer. When Harrison goes all romantic on her and she finally realizes she loves him too?—”
“Don’t pay any attention. Next week they’ll be onto something else. Let’s chat in the office. It won’t be so distracting.”
I followed her down the hall to a small, cramped office. I spent the next half hour reviewing her financials and showing her how much her new marketing campaign had increased her business. When we were done going over the paperwork, she walked me back up to the front.
“You know, I wanted to get you something for the holidays to show you how much I appreciate all your hard work.”
I smiled. “That’s not necessary. We’re happy to help. Besides, the team is getting graded, so just make sure you give their prof a good report.”
“Oh, I will. Can I offer you a haircut, too?”
I ran my hand through my overgrown, shaggy hair. “I’m used to just stopping in at the barber every once in a while.”
Tameka reached for a cape. “Trust me. It’ll be quick and painless. Set yourself down in that chair right there, and I’ll have you on your way before you even know what hit you.”
Before I could come up with a quick excuse, Tameka’s hand pressed on my shoulder, guiding me into the chair. The guys would never let me live it down if they saw me getting my hair cut in a freaking salon. I gritted my teeth and tried to make the best of it.
As Tameka secured the cape around my neck and reached for her scissors, tidbits of the ladies’ conversation drifted to me. They still seemed to be talking about some book.
One woman put her hand over her chest and swooned. “That Chastity Austen really knows what she’s doing. I couldn’t put it down.”
“Yeah, I tried looking her up to find out where she gets her ideas and stuff. There aren’t any pictures of her on her website, just some graphics.”
Space alien lady leaned over in my direction. “Do you read romance novels?”
Ha! I laughed. “Um, no. The last thing I read was a report on a potential new merger. Probably the furthest thing you can get from a love story.”
An elderly woman on my right with skinny curlers lined up all over her scalp piped in. “That’s the problem with men today, there’s no more romance. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am. That’s all they’re interested in.”
Space alien lady started in again. “You’re absolutely right. Why, my granddaughter just helped me get set up on that dating website for seniors. That’s all they want, those dirty old men.”
I was caught in a damn crossfire. Not feeling up to defending the entire male population, I made eye contact in the mirror with Tameka. “Almost done?”
“Y’all leave him alone. This here is a good one. By the way, Dante, you seeing anyone?”
I never should have agreed to sit down in the chair. “Nope, no one special. You know, I really need to get going.”
She picked up the clippers and flicked the button. “Just let me clean up the back here.”
Curler granny raised her eyebrows at me. “You know, my granddaughter is probably about your age...”
“I really don’t have time to see anyone right now. I work full-time, plus tend bar on the side.”
“Well, that’s too bad. She’s a real catch.” She scowled at me and turned her attention back to the magazine in her lap.
“What do you think?” Tameka whirled the chair around so I could see my reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t made a major change, just trimmed things up a bit.
I peeled the cape off my neck. “Looks great. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, honey, come over here.” A woman across the room beckoned me over.
I took a cautious step toward her. Tiny silver pins covered her head, and she reeked of some strong chemical smell. She shoved her hand out from under her cape, thrusting a hardcover book at me.
“Take it. See if you can pick up a tip or two.”
I looked down at the cover. Two bodies pressed up against each other on a black background. Red letters blazed across the graphic— Carnal Knowledge .
I’d instinctively put my hand out, but when I caught a glimpse of the cover, I yanked it back. “Aw thanks, but I really couldn’t.”
“Young man, I want you to have it. I insist.”
I looked over at Tameka, who gave me a nudge with her eyes.
I took the book. “Fine. Thanks.”
As I shoved the book into my bag, I promised myself that I wouldn’t set foot in this place again. From now on, I’d make one of the women deliver the paperwork. Should be their job anyway.
“You have yourself a nice holiday now, Dante,” Tameka said.
“Thanks, you too.” By the time I left the building and made it to my car, I’d already forgotten about the book with the red title sitting in the bottom of my backpack. The book by the author Chastity Austen.