Chapter 17 Trouble #2
“You’re such a jealous, mean-spirited witch.
Why is that your first thought when someone is showing genuine interest in your friend?
” Esther challenged. Hope just rolled her eyes and returned to her phone, done with the conversation.
Over the interaction as well, Esther reached for my hand.
“Don’t listen to that damn demon. He likes you. I can tell.”
Uninterested in having any more of my life on display and subject to ridicule, I pulled away.
“Let’s just focus on the meeting. Okay?”
London frowned. “Ellie…”
I ignored her and pushed forward, focusing on the true intent of this meeting.
“Getting into the expo was one thing, but to really stand out is another thing entirely. That being said, I decided to pay homage to Black hair and fashion icons. So think: Diana Ross, Chaka Khan, Lauryn Hill, Janet Jackson, Erykah Badu, Donna Summer, Dorothy Dandridge, Josephine Baker, Pam Grier, Minnie Riperton.”
The girls nodded along, a little excitement spreading through them.
I felt relieved to shift the focus away from my situation with Elliot, maybe a little too eager.
I had moved on too quickly, and he must’ve sensed it because just as I started to settle into the distraction, my phone buzzed with his name lighting up the screen.
I pressed ignore and continued. “Right. I want to do hair based on each icon’s signature look or one of their most iconic styles.
We want voluminous, big, curly hair. For Diana, I wanna recreate her look in ‘I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair.
’ I don’t really know how yet, but I’m gonna do it. ”
My phone rang again. Ignore.
I exhaled sharply. “London, I think braids are needed for this. Especially for Janet Jackson. I want to recreate the Poetic Justice look, but longer. Really long. I’m talking dragging on the floor.”
London nodded. “No problem, I’ll go to the beauty supply to get the braiding hair to practice. Maybe I should do some early 2000s Alicia Keys braids, too? That could be interesting.”
“Great idea. Let me know what you come up with.” I smiled, happy to give her complete creative control. Again, Elliot called me. This time, I silenced my phone.
Then, I turned to Esther, “Es? I think we should have some matching nails for all this. What do you say?”
Esther grinned. “Fuck yes! I’ll order the curved nail tips and airbrush machine!”
Chelsea leaned in. “What should I do, Ellie?”
“Well, you have the best luck sourcing extensions, so maybe focus on that?”
Chelsea gave a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
My chest tightened. For a moment, my thoughts flickered back to last night—El’s arms around me, the heat of his breath against my skin, the way he whispered, “I don’t remember how I did anything before I met you, Peanut.”
I could still feel the way his fingers had traced me, as if every inch of me was a question he was desperate to answer gently.
The way he listened when I told him what felt safe and what didn’t…
it did something to me. It unraveled something tender and hidden.
It wasn’t about pleasure for him. It was about gaining trust. And no man had ever been this close to earning it the way he has.
Focus.
I jotted down all their suggestions in my notes.
“Jo, I need you on social media and documenting all of this,” I added. “I need flyers prepared for hair models and boosted on all our social media. Run all applications by me first, okay?”
Hope huffed, finally putting the phone down. “Hello! Social media is my thing. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Esther smirked. “Find a real talent, for starters.”
The girls giggled, and Hope shot them a death glare.
Admittedly, I was being a little petty. It’s true, Johanna had the better skill when it came to social media, but Hope could manage it fine.
Still, what she said about El and me rubbed me the wrong way, and I wanted her to feel some of the discomfort.
I sighed with annoyance. “Look, you’re one of the hair models. That’s what you need to focus on, remember?”
Hope scoffed and rolled her eyes like a child. But I couldn’t even pretend to care anymore. My thoughts were elsewhere.
“Fine,” she breathed out as if she was doing me a favor. “But I want the Diana Ross hair.”
“You don’t have Diana Ross’s features. Why would we give you her hair?” Esther mocked.
“Stop it,” I scolded. “Let’s finish planning these looks.”
“Ellie! Phone for you!” Johanna screamed from the reception desk. I had retreated to the back of the salon, wrapping myself up in the planning and organization of the day. A few clients had come in already, and they cringed at Johanna’s outburst through the usually tranquil space.
I looked up from my notes and shot Johanna a glare. “Johanna, for the love of God, stop yelling across the salon.”
She buried her head in her shoulders and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I just got excited.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “Excited about what?”
Her lips curled into a smirk. “It’s Elliot.”
My face heated, and a chorus of “Oooohs” and “Awwws” rang out around the room.
I sighed. “Alright, alright, relax.”
The man decided to call the salon. Really? It was one thing to blow up my phone, but showing up in my workspace—even over the phone—felt invasive. I didn’t really know what I was expecting, though. He’d shown multiple times that he didn’t mind overstepping.
Aggravated, I snatched the receiver from Johanna.
“Seriously?” I said into the phone sharply.
“You haven’t been answering my calls.”
I exhaled sharply. “And do you know what not answering calls means?”
“I’m not the best at reading between the lines, Ellie. So, just come out and say it.”
“It means I’m busy.”
“The salon wasn’t open yet when I called.”
“I had a staff meeting.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
I clenched my jaw. “Do I need to tell you everything?”
A pause. “The things that matter.”
My fingers tightened around the phone. “What can I help you with, El? What’s so important that it couldn’t wait?”
Before he answered, the front door swung open, and there he was.
Fitted button-down, sleeves rolled just enough to tease the tension in his tattooed forearms, and tailored slacks that made the whole ensemble look effortless.
His glasses were perched neatly on his face, and that gold crucifix he always wore caught the salon lights, flashing like a warning.
His presence shifted the air and quieted the room.
Even the chatter faded as eyes subtly turned his way.
My stomach dipped. Breath caught mid-motion.
He held up a wallet—my wallet. The soft pink leather looked absurdly small in his hand, like it didn’t belong there at all.
“You left this at my place.”
I hung up the phone, my ears burning as all eyes turned to him. “You didn’t have to drive all this way for that. I could’ve gotten it later.”
He stepped closer, tilting his head. “How were you planning to pay for lunch today, Peanut?”
“Stop calling me that,” I crossed my arms. “And I would’ve been fine.”
His lips twitched. “Right. Well, I put some cash in there for you. You know, in case you get hungry.”
I took my wallet and flipped it open, counting the crisp bills inside. Two thousand dollars. The man gave me two thousand dollars.
I blinked. “There is nowhere in the world where lunch costs two grand.”
El shrugged. “Use the extra to get your nails done or something.”
I lifted a brow. “I own a salon. I don’t pay for that.”
“Then treat your girls to lunch.”
He turned to the staff and gave them a smooth wave. “Hi, girls.”
They all waved back, starstruck and silent.
Across the room, Johanna leaned into Chelsea and whispered, “I remember him being fine at the club, but damn.”
Chelsea elbowed her, and El smirked like he’d heard.
“Ignore them, please.” I rolled my eyes and then gestured toward my wallet. “Thank you for this. I really appreciate it.”
He smiled. “How about you show your appreciation by letting me take you to dinner tonight?”
My breath hitched. “El—”
“You like Italian, don’t you?”
I hesitated. “I—I do.”
“Good. Tony’s has great pasta and nice jazz. I looked over their menu, and I assure you, no tree nuts in sight.”
I scoffed at that with a grin.
I did love jazz.
“I think you’d like it.” He smiled. “8 p.m.?”
I swallowed. “Nine works better for me.”
He grinned. “Okay. I’ll pick you up then. Have a good day, Peanut.”
Then, he turned to the team. “Bye, girls.”
And just like that, he was gone.
I turned back to my staff—only to find every single one of them staring at me, eyes practically burning holes into my soul.
I groaned. “What?”