Page 28

After seeing Jordan's hair, I changed my mind about my style per usual. Maintenance be damned.

"I got nowhere to be in particular." I chuckled and followed her to the back.

Our conversation continued through the color mixing and application. We never went too wild with my hair color, but today I decided on a berry splash over my usual mousy brown. I waited in the back while she settled the next person up front and spent time staring at my phone while she moved through her other appointments.

Bro, u almost fucked shit up, texted Wyatt.

LOL neg. You two were awk af.

Glad u did tho.

Good. How goes it?

Good. Dinner tomorrow. Nervous. Help me pick clothes.

I will. At the shop tomorrow, bring stuff.

Cool. Thx.

YW.

Jordan's excited voice broke my trance, and I looked up from my phone to see her escorting someone away from the sinks with their hair wrapped in a towel.

"Listen girl, your hair is always a treat. Who you playin'?" she teased, playful in the excited manner that she often turned on for new people or anxious people. "Hang here for a sec," she announced when the timer beside me went off.

I looked up when she entered the room and pointed at the screaming clock. "Should I shoot it?"

"Don't you dare." She swatted my elbow when I pretended to reach for my service weapon. "We've had enough of you po-pos bangin' up this place over the years."

"Lies." I followed her to the sinks then sat as she guided.

"Hardly." She scoffed, though chuckled with it. "Quiet before I drown you," she teased as she pulled the spray hose toward my forehead.

I laughed and let her wash out my hair. "No waterboarding, Jordy. It's outlawed."

"What can I say? I'm an outlaw." She splashed my face and we both cracked up.

After a drenching, she returned me to the seats by the mirrors. Two women filled the spots on either side of me. One with a towel still on her head gazed down at a thick book in her palms. The other gazed at her phone while waiting patiently for Jordan.

"Okay." She clapped her hands when she returned. "We're running a bit behind and I'm alone here today. Clem, since you're a simple cut, I'll take care of you first. Jags—"

Jordan's voice faded when I heard her say my colleague's name. I did a double-take then turned to the book reader. Without her hair down around her shoulders, and sans lab coat, I hardly recognized her. She appeared to get the same memo when Jordan said my name, because we looked to each other at the same time.

A startled smile curved her mouth only slightly in the corners. "Hey."

"Sorry, I didn't recognize you without hair—I mean…you still have hair, but like in the towel." I gestured weirdly toward her and gulped. "Sorry."

Jordan paused, an expression of disbelief washing over her normally cool features. She glanced over my shoulder at the woman behind me, and I heard a tiny snicker.

"Well, you still have hair, too. So, I suppose we're both good," said Clem, matter-of-factly. She set the book in her lap. The title, Candide, ou l'Optimisme, stood boldly on the cover of the work by Voltaire. All of the text appeared in French across the cover and spine of the book.

"You're reading in French?" I blurted out.

Clem nodded then held the book up. "Do you fancy Voltaire?"

"Maybe. But not in French."

Jordan cleared her throat. "Well, then." She moved on to the other woman behind me. "Let's go get you shampooed while these two awkward melons figure out their dialogue."