Chapter 6 Jade
Jade
Jade ripped off her bra and threw it in the corner, the clasp hitting the bare, stark-white bedroom wall with a ding. At this moment, she wanted nothing but to launch herself superwoman-style onto her bed and not move until she’d slept for a solid twelve hours.
Owning a business was everything she’d dreamed of.
The salon had done well its first year, turning an actual profit, which was already much more than the ‘experts’ (her judgemental-as-hell parents) had predicted.
She’d already done more than what her ex said she could do.
Even more than what Jade herself thought possible.
Starting next year, assuming things kept going well, she should even be able to offer health insurance to the dozen stylists in her salon – a rarity in her field.
Owning a business was also everything nightmares were made of.
While the clients and staff were amazing, the invoices, taxes, banking, supply lists, back-orders, auditing, inventory …
not amazing. Everything about this owning-your-own-business world was an Amy Winehouse beehive-level learning curve.
During her marriage, Jade hadn’t filed a tax return, looked for insurance, or opened a credit card account on her own.
She hadn’t even so much as paid a bill, as her wife took care of all their finances.
And now, juggling a full day of hairstyling followed by two hours of paperwork at night, well … it was picking at her sanity.
Jade turned over and flung her wrist over her eyes, willing herself to stand so she could brush her teeth and slip into pyjamas before she fell asleep. She peeked at the clock resting on her nightstand. 7:07 p.m.
‘Power through,’ she mumbled and propped to her elbows, and then to a sitting position. She exhaled.
A sea of numbers and paperwork was soon drowning her.
Sometimes Jade shot up at night, sweating, trying to remember if she’d forgotten to pay the electricity bill, or the colour distributor.
She hated herself for the fleeting desire to ask her ex for help.
Elizabeth was always so organised, so controlled, so ten steps ahead of everyone.
Graduated early, promoted early, rose in the ranks at the communication firm where she worked in record time.
Vowed to be the youngest VP in the history of the company, and then made it happen.
Jade had no doubt that whatever Elizabeth put her mind to, she’d succeed at.
But even though Jade scrambled and hustled, she always felt like she was lagging.
After wiggling back into the headboard, she pulled her laptop onto her lap and scanned her emails.
She opened her reports from the previous month and reviewed the types of services the stylists performed, as well as which stylists brought in the highest profit margin.
She squinted, hoping to concentrate on which sale she should run to move product without dipping too much into the profits.
Walk-ins vs appointments, perms vs colours, backbar stock vs sellable product …
she ground a knuckle into her eye socket.
A ping sounded, signalling a direct message, but she ignored it. Talking all day, being ‘on’, depleted her. Right now, she didn’t care who it was, though her brain did flag the warning that it could be Elizabeth trying yet another avenue to contact her …
Funny how dynamics changed in a relationship.
For years, it was Jade trying to contact an unreachable Elizabeth.
Jade liked to blame Elizabeth for the demise of their marriage because she wanted to be a mom.
But truthfully, their marriage had cracked years prior.
Elizabeth was a star, and she shone the brightest in the room – any room.
Hyper-driven, successful, beautiful. Loud.
‘She sure is the life of the party, isn’t she?
’ Jade’s mother would beam, staring at Elizabeth with the pride that Jade craved.
Jade was pushed to the side, not heard or seen.
Her wife took up all the space, and there was none left for her.
Sometimes Elizabeth would forget to text her back, or show up late for dinner, and more than once she forgot their anniversary because work or something else besides Jade took precedence.
Of course, at first, Jade excused it all. She loved Elizabeth so hard that she convinced herself Elizabeth’s scraps were enough. But after a few years of telling herself that the morsels of time Elizabeth flung her way were enough, something in Jade broke.
She would never forget the odd behaviour that became her wake-up call.
One evening, after Elizabeth was late for dinner again, Jade had stepped away from the now-cold pasta primavera to take an ‘important’ phone call from a phantom number.
She faked the conversation all the way to their bedroom, where she closed the door, then sat shaking on the side of the bed, feverishly asking herself What the hell am I doing?
Another time, Jade struck up a conversation with a stranger at the bar. Elizabeth was right next to her as Jade laughed loudly with the stranger about something inane, her back to Elizabeth. What the hell am I doing? she asked herself again.
But this time, she had an answer. Obviously, she wanted to prove how independent and cool she was. Obviously, she wanted to show her wife that if Elizabeth could mingle at parties and ignore Jade, well, Jade could ignore her too.
That night, as Jade lay next to her sleeping wife, everything inside her screamed for more.
She wanted more than scraps. She deserved more than scraps.
Instead, she had let herself slip away. The strong, confident Jade of the past didn’t exist anymore.
Somehow, in her marriage, she’d become needy and small – and full of shame.
Now, a year later, Elizabeth seemed determined to talk. And Jade wasn’t having it. You didn’t want me then. So, you can’t have me now.
So, no, Jade wouldn’t peek at the social media message.
Right now, she had to figure out why Shayna, who was the top earner at the salon last year, had dropped in her commissions.
In the beauty industry, business could be fickle, and fluctuations were normal.
Everyone wanted to be beautiful right before holidays, school, and before the summer. And summer months were slow.
But Shayna had progressively dipped over the last several months.
Jade scrolled through the logs, auditing until she was damn near dizzy, noticing more ‘*R’ next to clients’ names than she’d seen all year.
The dreaded ‘*R’ for ‘redo’. The worst four-letter word in a salon’s vocabulary – fixing a client’s hair for free when they left unhappy.
It happens to all of them, from time to time.
Jade had even done one last week for a client who added teal highlights.
Jade had warned her that the colour literally slides off the hair, and she shouldn’t shampoo every day.
But the client came back a week later upset about the faded green strands, so Jade slapped on more colour and ate the cost.
But according to this audit, Shayna’s re-dos had been increasing.
A lot. Shit. Thankfully Shayna’s clients were loyal and had not complained to Jade.
But if word got out that Jade’s salon was slipping in quality, it could spread through the town like embers in a dry forest. And not only were there more re-dos, but she was also seeing fewer clients per day than normal.
Jade’s chest squeezed tight, constricting her air, and she slammed her laptop shut.
After the bad break-up Shayna had a few months ago – which clearly affected her work performance – the last thing Jade wanted to do was to point out a slump and lag time between clients and offer some demeaning coaching for her former top stylist. But she had to.
Another cell phone ping. Maybe it’s not her ex …
Could it be Lucy? A quick burst of hope bounced through Jade, cutting through the stress-inducing salon thought cycle, but she pushed it away as quickly as it arrived.
She’d messaged Lucy three days ago about the gift basket and never heard back. Which was just fine with Jade. Sort of.
With her growling belly clamouring harder than her tired eyes, she forced herself down the hall to the kitchen for a snack.
As she sank her teeth into a PB&J, she blinked at the tiny pink floral pattern covering the kitchen walls.
Oof, that wallpaper needed to be ripped down and repainted.
Maybe in a soft blue-grey. Or red. Or literally any other colour.
The landlord had offered to pay for supplies if she did the work.
When she moved in, she thought she’d only be here for a year before purchasing a home.
Now, with no home purchase in sight, she’d just signed another yearlong lease and still wasn’t feeling remotely settled.
Maybe she should take her landlord up on that offer and try to make this place feel more like her own …
Focus, focus. Jade stepped towards the bedroom to review the digital inventory list, then pivoted sharply and marched into the bathroom, deciding that a bubble bath with her rain sound machine and candles was exactly what she needed.
She dropped her clothes, wrapped a towel around herself, and ran the water.
Lavender and mint-scented bubbles filled the tub, and she breathed in.
She leaned against the door and flipped on her socials while she waited for the tub to fill.
Her heart skipped and stuck in her throat when she saw a DM from Lucy.