14. Josiah #2
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Solid work.”
“Thank you.”
She signed the final line and handed me the inspection sheet. “Owner’s been stressed.”
“She had reason to be.”
“She can stop now.”
I looked toward Celeste, who was standing near the desk with her hands clasped so tightly I could see the tension from across the room. “I’ll let her know.”
Ms. Kinley gave me a look that said she had seen more than electrical work, then left without another word.
I carried the paperwork to the front desk, and Celeste stood so fast her chair rolled backward and tapped the wall.
I tried not to smile.
Failed.
“Well?” she asked.
I held out the signed form. “You’re cleared.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “Everything?”
“Everything we repaired. The back row can run safely. I still recommend the surge protection upgrade we discussed, but the dangerous work is handled.”
She stared at the paper, eyes feeling everything the shutdown had cost her.
I stepped closer. “Breathe, Red.”
The nickname slipped out low. Private. Meant for her only.
Her eyes lifted to mine. Relief softened her face. She whispered, “Thank you.”
I took her free hand and kissed her knuckles, keeping it brief enough for public and real enough for her to feel.
“You’re welcome.”
A stylist near station two made a sound and pretended to drop a comb.
Starr looked over her shoulder with no shame at all. “Don’t act like we ain’t see that, Celeste.”
Celeste’s face went hot. “Starr.”
“What? I’m happy the electricity is fixed, and your electrician got manners.”
Juice called from the back. “And benefits.”
I warned him with one look. “Justice.”
He appeared from behind the dryer station with a grin. “What? I’m promoting company culture.”
Celeste laughed, and the shop seemed to rise with it.
Women under capes smiled into mirrors. Starr shook her head.
Somebody started clapping softly, and then the rest of the front joined in until Celeste pressed the inspection paper to her chest and looked around the salon like she needed a moment to accept that the lights were on and the danger was gone.
I stepped back because the moment belonged to her.
She looked at me as if she noticed that too.
A man carrying a bakery bag walked through the door. He had Celeste’s eyes and the same habit of taking in a room without announcing he’d measured it.
Celeste’s face lit in a way I hadn’t seen yet.
“Camden.”
There it was.
Family.
Camden Black crossed the salon with a grin and pulled her into his arms. “There go my baby sister.”
She hugged him tight with the inspection paper still in one hand. “You came by?”
“I said I was.”
“I know, but you’re always busy.”
“Never too busy for you.”
He kissed the top of her head, then pulled back and studied her face.
Whatever joke he’d been ready to make disappeared. His eyes moved over her smile, the color in her cheeks, the way she kept glancing toward me, even while standing close to him.
Then Camden looked at me.
I straightened without meaning to.
He let Celeste go and walked over with his hand extended. “You Josiah?”
“Yes, sir.”
His grip was firm. Not performative. Not a man trying to outmuscle another man for sport. It was the grip of someone checking substance before he offered trust.
He said, “Camden Black. Celeste’s brother.”
“It’s good to meet you.”
“I’ve heard your name a few times.”
Celeste’s mouth dropped open. “Camden.”
He looked at her. “What? You say it like I’m supposed to pretend you haven’t been smiling at your phone.”
Starr coughed into her fist.
Celeste pointed toward the styling chairs. “Everybody, mind their business.”
Nobody did.
Camden looked back at me, and the teasing eased from his face. “You finished the work?”
“Yes, sir. Passed inspection. I’ll email her the warranty documents and keep the paper copies with the invoice.”
He nodded. “Good.”
Then he looked at Celeste again.
My eyes followed his.
She stood near the front desk with one hand at her chest, inspection paper curled slightly in her fingers, smiling at nothing and everything.
Her shoulders sat lower than I’d seen them all week.
Her eyes carried grief, but grief wasn’t the only thing sitting there.
Something else had slipped in beside it and made room.
Not healed. Not whole. Present enough for her brother to see it from across the room.
Camden’s voice lowered. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that look on my baby sister’s face.” I said nothing. He kept his eyes on her. “Long time since she looked like she wasn’t bracing for the next thing to hurt.” The words hit me in the chest. Camden looked back at me. “Keep it up.”
I held his gaze. “I’ll keep a smile on her face as long as I’ve got breath in my body.”
Camden studied me for a moment, then he nodded once, slow and serious. “Then keep breath in your body for years to come.”
Everything in me went quiet.
Camden’s jaw tightened. “I’m not sure she’ll make it back the same if she has to bury another love too soon.”
Celeste was laughing with Starr near the desk and didn’t hear him.
I did.
Every word.
I nodded because anything more would’ve sounded too small. “I hear you.”
Camden looked at me, and whatever he saw must have satisfied something in him.
He said, “I’ve got discernment. Always have. Gets on peoples nerves because they think I’m judging when I’m really listening.”
“I understand that.”
“I can tell when a man likes being seen as good more than becoming good. I can tell when he wants the warmth of a woman’s healing without the responsibility of protecting what’s left.” His eyes stayed on mine. “You don’t feel like that.”
I let the words settle before answering.
He continued. “You feel good for her.”
My chest moved with a slow breath. “I plan to be.”
“Plans change.”
“Mine won’t.”
“Life’ll test that.”
“I expect it to.”
Something close to approval moved through his expression. Camden held out his hand again. I took it. This time, his grip lasted longer.
“Then welcome to the family, Josiah.”
“Thank you.”
Camden didn’t release my hand right away. “Be patient with her.”
“I will.”
“I mean patient in places she won’t ask for patience.
” I nodded. “She’s going to overthink. She’s going to get scared when she’s happy.
She’s going to pull back sometimes because joy started feeling unsafe after Jamal died.
She might test whether you’ll leave before she admits she wants you to stay. ”
“I’ll stay.”
“Don’t say it fast.”
I paused.
I looked toward Celeste. She caught me watching and smiled again, soft enough to make my chest tighten.
Then I looked back at Camden. “I’ll stay. And when she gets scared, I won’t punish her for it.”
Camden’s grip tightened once, then released.
“That’s the answer.”
Celeste walked over with narrowed eyes. “Why do y’all look like you just signed documents behind my back?”
Camden smiled and lifted the bakery bag. “Because I brought lemon pound cake, and your electrician seems like he knows when to be serious.”
“My electrician?”
I watched her face carefully.
She tried to look annoyed. She failed.
Camden saw it too and laughed. “Look at you. Whole cheeks glowing.”
“Please don’t start.”
“I’m your brother. Starting is in my job description.”
She reached for the bag. “Give me my cake.”
He held it away from her. “Say please.”
“Camden.”
“You still bossy.”
“You still irritating.”
“And yet, I brought cake.”
Celeste snatched the bag when he let her have it and looked inside. “From Mama Jean’s?”
“Of course.”
Her smile softened. “Thank you.”
Camden kissed her forehead. “Anything for you, baby girl.”
Camden stayed for a while, talking to the stylists, checking the repaired back row like he understood enough to know when something looked right, and making Celeste laugh every time she tried to act like she wasn’t happy.
I went back to finishing details: outlet covers, clean-up, tool inventory, final photos, email notes.
Work helped keep me from staring at her too much.
It didn’t stop me completely.
At one point, Celeste came to the back to check the dryer stations. I was kneeling near the baseboard, securing the last cover, when she stopped beside me. Her shoes came into view first. Black flats. Purple polish showing at the toes from the open edge.
I looked up.
She looked down at me with the bakery bag tucked against her side. “Everything good?”
“Yes.”
She glanced behind her, then crouched slightly and held out a small napkin-wrapped slice of pound cake. “Here.”
I took it. “You feeding me dessert at work now?”
“I’m sharing.”
“You don’t share cake.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
“You looked at Camden like he’d brought you inheritance.”
She laughed, low and sweet. “I like lemon pound cake.”
“I noticed.”
“You notice everything.”
I stood, close enough to smell citrus frosting and the soft floral perfume at her throat. “Not everything.” Her eyes lifted. “I’m still learning you.”
Her breath changed.
The salon moved around us, but the back corner gave us a little pocket of privacy. Not enough for what I wanted. Enough for me to take the napkin from her hand and brush my fingers along hers before stepping back.
She watched me. “You keep doing that.”
“What?”
“Touching me like you’re trying not to touch me.”
I looked at her mouth, then back at her eyes. “Because I’m at your job.”
“And if we weren’t at my job?”
“That’s a different conversation.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t look away.
“Josiah.”
“Yes?”
Her eyes softened. “Thank you for respecting me in here.”
That went deeper than she knew.
“Always.”
She nodded, then glanced toward the front when someone called her name. Before she walked away, she leaned close enough for her voice to reach only me.
“And thank you for not acting like this morning made me less worthy of that respect.”
My chest tightened.
I wanted to pull her into me. I wanted to tell her that nothing about wanting me had made her smaller in my eyes. Trusting me had made her feel even more precious. But her client called again, and I’d already said enough in rooms where people could overhear.