Four
Every morning, the moment I walked into the coffee shop, Sean was waving me down. And every morning, our interactions became longer and longer. If there weren’t too many people waiting for coffees, he would linger after handing me my cup, asking more and more questions.
And it was nice. It wasn’t anything more than us just getting to know each other better. But it was good to talk to someone who I didn’t have to convince I was really okay or go too deep into my past with. Or that even knew my past.
It felt so freeing that I found myself voluntarily going into the deeper conversations though.
In fact, the day he decided to take a break with me if I “had a minute or two to spare”, I found myself telling him the abridged version of my cosmetology life.
I even admitted to him how Steph had deserted me and how awful the first salon was and even up to telling him that I didn’t love cutting hair anymore.
“But making the jump to photography full time scares you too much?” Sean offered more as a complete understanding than a question.
“Honestly? Yes. I’m terrified of it. Absolutely terrified.”
“But you’re not happy, Zette.”
Hearing him say the nickname I’d tried to adopt years ago made me nearly choke on my coffee.
“Did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry if I did.” Sean reached his hand out towards mine sitting on the table but hesitated about an inch above it.
“No, no. It’s not that.”
“Is it the coffee?” He asked, still concerned.
“No, the coffee is great. Really.” I added for extra reassurance.
“What is it then?” He was determined to get the answer out of me.
“What makes you think there is something wrong?”
“Just your reaction to my statement. I don’t want to overstep. I know it’s not my place to say but I had to say it.”
“It’s okay.” I gave him a weak smile. “It wasn’t your comment. As hard as that is to swallow, it is true.” I admitted to it without even thinking first, shocking myself.
He kept his gaze on me, waiting for me to say something more.
Finally, I did. “You called me Zette.” I fought back a smile.
“I’m sorry, you know I’m always joking around with nick names. If you don’t like it, I won’t do it again.”
This time, I couldn’t hold back my smile. “No, it’s the opposite.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah, actually, I tried to adopt that as a nickname for myself years ago, but it never quite took.”
Truthfully, it never took at all. I wrote it on my papers all through my junior year of high school but none of my teachers ever seemed to notice.
“Well, it fits you, so I don’t know why it didn’t take.”
I shrugged. “Everyone was already so used to calling me Liz.”
“Well, you’re Zette now.” Sean smiled at me and took a sip of his coffee but pulled it back quickly, holding up one finger. “Except when you’re Lizzo.” He gave me a devilish grin and all I could muster was an eyeroll.
The fact that he wanted to call me Zette would make up for every time he poked fun at my name before. “I’ll allow it.” I took a sip of coffee before pushing my chair back. “But don’t abuse it.”
“I won’t, Lizzo.”
I groaned. “I regret this already.” I grabbed my bag and turned for the door. “I have a client in about twenty minutes.”
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” Sean asked, but he already knew better.
“Yep.”
Thankfully, I didn’t have too many clients lined up for the rest of the week. Sure, I needed the income. Seattle was anything but affordable.
But after talking to Sean, Penny, and my dad so much about photography, it was hard to even fake being invested in cutting anyone’s hair.
So difficult that I actually dropped off a resume and portfolio to the photo studio between the salon and my apartment.
I didn’t hear from them all week and I was about to cry from the overwhelming anxiety. I’d spent too much time over the weekend essentially plucking a metaphorical daisy.
I did the right thing.
I regret doing that.
It can’t hurt.
Except the shred of confidence I have.
Maybe they’ll call.
Maybe they won’t.
By the time I woke up Monday morning, I was already exhausted for the week. I pushed myself out of bed though and took a shower, barely putting any effort towards getting ready.
If I ever felt like it, I’d just do my make-up and hair when I got to my chair. Lately, I found myself going au natural more often than not.
The give-a-damn just didn’t outweigh the lack of energy to put on a face of makeup just to wash it all off in ten hours most days.
Especially on a Monday morning. Where my first client of the day was at eight-thirty.
“Who gets their hair cut this early on a Monday.” I groaned into the empty hallway as I made my way to the stairs.
As I walked down the street, I pulled out my phone to check my calendar. Sure enough, she’d confirmed her appointment. Along with five more for the day. At least I didn’t have any room for walk-ins today.
While waiting to order my coffee—or more so pay for it as Sean had already nodded to me, letting me know he was working on something for me—I scrolled through my email. At least ninety percent of them were junk mail to websites I could have sworn I’d unsubscribed from before.
But, barely saved from the left swipe of the thumb to the delete folder, there was an email.
Living Moments Studio
Subject: Interview
My heart nearly stopped. In fact, my feet certainly did. I didn’t even hear the guy behind me clearing his throat until I heard Sean call out for me.
I looked up just in time to hear the guy behind me rudely say, “Some of us have somewhere to be today, lady.”
The lady comment? Really? Who still uses that as an insult these days?
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled. “Go ahead.” I waved him around me. Not that it would save him any time, seeing as Sean was already walking towards me with a cup.
“Hey, everything okay?” He held out the cup to me and I greedily took it with both hands, letting my eyes go wide. “You look like it’s Christmas morning.” He teased.
“It’s better. It’s coffee on a Monday morning.” I groaned happily as I took a sip. The whipped cream coated my mouth as a barrier to the piping hot mocha. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Good. We got a new chocolate milk in, and I wanted you to try it. It’s just a classic mocha today.”
“It’s the best I think I’ve ever had.”
Sean let out a chuckle. “Good. I thought so too when I had mine this morning.”
I pulled out my wallet and Sean walked with me towards the counter.
“Now, what had you lost in your phone earlier? I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.”
I paused. “Um, I don’t know yet either, but I think it’s good? I haven’t read it all yet.”
Sean laughed. “I feel like that shouldn’t make any sense to me, but it does. Because it’s you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you don’t let yourself get your hopes up until you know for sure. You’re terrified to jinx yourself.”
“Shots fired.” I joked.
“But really. What is it?”
I unlocked my phone and clicked on the email but handed it to Sean without actually reading any of the body of the email.
“Oh shit!” He exclaimed, looking at me with wide eyes and an even wider smile.
“What?” I almost dropped my card as I handed it to the cashier and leaned into Sean, trying to get a look at my phone as well.
Sean reached out blindly for my stretched-out arm, taking my card from my hand before the cashier could grab it. “Nope, I’m paying for it today.”
“What?”
But Sean didn’t elaborate. He just put his hand on my shoulder, steering me away from the counter and towards the only part of the coffee shop that was not crowded with people.
“They want to set up an interview with you and are asking if you have time this week!” Sean looked up at me again, still with the wide grin.
“Really?” I exclaimed and leaned my head between him and my phone screen, reading it for myself. “Oh my god!”
“You did it, Zette!” Sean pulled me into a hug, surprising me.
I wasn’t one for hugs—ever, really. But this was different. I didn’t mind one bit. Partly because Sean had been a part of this journey and it only felt right to celebrate this with him.
But mostly because I did do it.
It might not be the job, but it was an interview.
Man, Penny was going to be proud of me tomorrow.
“I’m so proud of you, Zette.” Sean’s voice was low and in my ear as he tucked me into his side and gave my hip a squeeze.
It felt intimate but I couldn’t tell if it was because he saw me as a true friend now or if there was a chance there was something more. Either way, I felt my hopes lifting a bit.