3. Celeste #2
“The lights near stations three and four flickered first, then the dryers cut off. The outlet by the shampoo bowls sparked yesterday, but we haven’t used it since.”
Josiah’s eyes sharpened, all business now. “Any burning smell?”
“Near the rear wall. It faded some.”
Josiah replied, “Show me.”
I led them toward the back, far too aware of him behind me. He gave me room and never crowded my steps. Somehow, that made him worse.
A man with presence who understood distance was more dangerous than a loud one could ever manage to be.
Josiah crouched near the outlet and pulled out a tester from his bag. Juice opened the tool case beside him before he had to ask. Onyx stayed near me, arms folded.
“I told you it wasn’t small, sis,” he murmured.
“I heard you.”
“You heard Leilani.”
“I heard both of y’all.”
“But did you believe us?”
I cut my eyes at him. “Onyx.”
He lifted both hands. “I’m just making sure my godchildren’s mama remains amongst the living.”
Before I could answer, the bell over the door chimed again.
Calista called out, “Celeste? I came to see if you were alive or being dramatic.”
Cassia entered behind her, carrying a small bakery bag. Cassia announced, “I brought lemon pound cake. Because Calista said she was bringing emotional support, and I knew that meant noise.”
Calista placed one hand on her chest. “My presence is a ministry.”
Onyx looked toward the front and laughed. “Lord. More C-Blacks.”
Both my sisters turned at the same time.
Calista grinned. “Wassup, O?”
Cassia smiled. “Hey, Ony.”
Justice froze halfway through unzipping a pouch. “Y’all just appear when somebody says the family name?”
Calista glanced at him. “We felt a disturbance in the edges.”
Cassia added, “And the group chat.”
Onyx shook his head. “Juice, these are the baby twins. Calista and Cassia.”
The nickname fit him. Justice sounded like paperwork. Juice sounded like the man standing in my salon, ready to turn a fire hazard into a comedy set.
Juice looked between us. “Craig and Cordelia had a franchise.”
Calista pointed at him. “And don’t you forget it.”
Josiah’s mouth threatened a smile before he focused on the tester again. Even that small break in his composure made me wonder what he looked like laughing for real.
Then I hated myself a little for wondering.
Calista’s gaze moved from him to me.
I widened my eyes in warning.
She ignored me with the dedication of a youngest sister who feared neither God nor consequences.
“Well,” she drawled, “who . . . is . . . that?”
“Electrician,” I answered too quickly.
Cassia blinked. “That wasn’t a name.”
Onyx supplied, “That’s Josiah. J. Brooks.”
Juice smirked, enjoying the scene unfold.
Calista looked at Josiah again, then at me, then back at him. “Oh.”
I hated that oh. I’d heard that tone from my sisters my whole life, and it never meant they were about to mind their business.
Josiah rose to his full height, and my sisters, for once in their dramatic lives, paused.
Josiah greeted them with a respectful nod. “Ladies.”
Cassia smiled softly. “Hi.”
Calista recovered first. “Hello, tall safety professional.”
“Calista.”
“What? He looks safe.”
Juice coughed into his fist while suddenly finding the ceiling fascinating.
Josiah looked at me, and humor warmed his eyes, though his face stayed composed. “You have a lively family.”
“You met two of ten.”
“I heard the list.”
That made Onyx and Juice laugh again.
I narrowed my eyes. “What list?”
Juice pointed at Onyx. “Your brother over there rattled y’all off like DMX.”
Onyx shook his head. “Don’t start.”
I couldn’t help myself. I lifted one hand and sang under my breath. “Marina, uh. Selena, uh. Katrina, uh. Sabrina, uh.”
Calista jumped in without missing a beat. “About three Kims.”
Cassia finished, soft as rain. “LaToya and Tina.”
The salon froze.
Then Juice hollered.
He bent at the waist, one hand braced on his knee, while Onyx turned toward the wall, his shoulders bouncing.
Calista threw both hands up like she’d just led praise and worship.
Cassia stood there with her lemon pound cake and innocent face, as if she hadn’t just helped send the whole shop in an uproar.
Juice shouted, “See! Cultural evidence! I rest my case, Your Honor. That wasn’t a family roll call. That was a Ruff Ryders remix with birth certificates.”
Calista fanned herself. “We’re an anointed collection.”
Even Josiah laughed then.
The sound was low, warm, and completely unguarded.
I hated how much I wanted to hear it again.
I looked away and pretended to straighten a towel that didn’t need touching.
Josiah returned to the outlet, removing the faceplate. His expression changed.
My stomach tightened. “What?”
Juice’s face sobered too. “Heat damage?”
Josiah nodded once. “Some.”
Onyx stepped closer. “How bad?”
Josiah aimed a thermal camera and aimed it toward the rear wall, then up toward the ceiling. “I need to check the panel and trace the run, but this isn’t a reset issue.”
The room stilled.
Calista moved beside me, while Cassia’s hand rested against my back.
“What does that mean?”
Josiah looked directly at me.
“It means you did the right thing shutting this area down. This outlet shows heat damage, and the dryers tripping breakers suggests an overloaded circuit or a bad connection feeding this row. The hot smell near the rear wall concerns me. I’m going to check the panel and attic run, but I don’t want these back stations used until I know exactly what’s going on. ”
My eyes moved to the empty chairs.
To anyone else, they were workstations. To me, part of my life had been roped off with caution tape.
“How long?” I asked.
“I’ll know more once I inspect everything. If we have to correct the wiring, separate the dryer circuits, and pull permits, you’re looking at about a week, maybe longer, depending on parts and inspection.”
“A week?” I repeated.
Onyx shifted closer. “Celly.”
“I’m okay.”
Everybody looked tired of that lie.
Josiah stood. “I’ll make the front stations safe for limited use if the panel allows it. I’ll label what can run. But I won’t tell you this is fine just to make you feel better.”
Fear pressed against my ribs, but respect steadied me. “Okay.”
Josiah’s gaze stayed on mine. “I know it’s a lot.”
I almost laughed. A lot had become my address. “It is,” I admitted. “But I’d rather know.”
Josiah nodded. “Good.”
There it was again.
That good.
I had to remind myself he was here to keep my shop from catching fire, not become a thought I carried home.
Leilani arrived fifteen minutes later with a bag of snacks, bottled waters, and prepared to fuss, feed, and investigate, in that order. “I brought snacks because Celeste will work herself into a headache and call it discipline.”
“I eat.”
Leilani stopped near the front desk and looked at me. “Communion crackers don’t count.”