Page 2 of Gator

Willow had gone through a divorce not long ago, and the last time she was in, she’d mentioned signing up for a couple of dating apps.

“I’ve met a couple of guys for coffee, but there was no spark. I’m trying, though.”

“Hey, trying can be fun.” I winked at her in the mirror and then spun her chair around and handed her a hand mirror and her glasses. “What do you think?”

She looked at the results of the haircut and grinned. “I look ten years younger. You’re a magic worker, Jules.”

“That’s all you, hon. You’re stunning. Devon will get you all sorted out up front.”

“Maybe I’ll get highlights next time, what do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea. Let Devon know, and he’ll get you all scheduled.”

I rolled my shoulders and then got to work cleaning up my station. I was finishing up when the bell over the front door jingled and another of our stylists, Miguel Santiago, or Migs as we called him, came rushing in like a hurricane. He was decked out like he was headed to the club and was carrying a tray filled with coffees in one hand and a single cup in the other.

“Never fear, the coffee is here, my friends,” he called out.

“A German chocolate latte for you.” He handed me a cup and twirled away. “A Breve for you, my darling.” He handed a cup to Harper. “A sweet and salty cappuccino for you.” That one went to Tori, and then he turned to look at Devon. “And a plain cup of coffee with an extra shot of espresso for our baby. Sugar, you’re way too young to be this bitter.”

Devon blushed and took the cup from him, and Harper and I shared a look. Devon had a hardcore crush on Migs, not that Migs had a clue, and we weren’t going to say a word. It was up to Devon to decide if he wanted him to know or not.

“Hey, Jules, do you have time to help me for a sec?” Tori asked.

I checked my watch and then nodded. “I do, what’s up?”

“I have a new client, and she said the last time she colored her hair, it turned out a lot more orange than she wanted, so she had to go to someone else to fix it. I want to make sure that doesn’t happen, but I’m not sure what to do.”

“It’s all about the toner, sugar. Let’s go to the color bar, and I’ll help you mix one up that’ll do the trick.”

“Thanks, Jules.”

It didn’t take us long to get her all set. Truth was, she already knew what she needed to do; what she needed was for someone to reassure her that she was right. Color was one of those things. Everyone learned to do basic color, but doing it well was an art that not everyone mastered.

I stood there for a minute and watched, but once I was sure she was good-to-go, I wiped my hands on a towel, checked my watch again, and headed back toward my chair. I didn’t have long before my next client would be here.

I downed what was left of my coffee just as the door chimed and my friend, Mika, walked in. I’d met him a couple of years ago at Kirby’s, a local LGBTQ+ night club, and we’d bonded over the trials and tribulations of dating in a smaller city like Vesper.

I waved him over, and he headed my way. Mika had always been a sweetheart, but he had a look that said he’d been through some shit, or at least he used to. About six months ago, that shit came calling, and his new Daddy, Hawk, had stepped in and eliminated that problem.Literally. Now the smile Mika wore went all the way to his eyes, and there was lightness like he’d shed a thousand-pound weight.

“Hey, Jules!”

“Hey, sugar. What are we doing today?”

“I kind of want something different.”

“Really?” He’d had the same haircut and had been coming for a simple trim for as long as he’d been a client here.

“Yeah, not super short, Daddy likes my curls.” He blushed and glanced around like he was worried someone heard him, then he cleared his throat. “I mean, umm, Hawk likes my curls, so I don’t want to lose them, but I want something more stylish. I thought maybe you would have an idea what I could do.”

“Oh, I have an idea, alright. How do you feel about a curly top with an undercut? It’ll look really stylish but will highlight your curls.”

“So the top would still be long enough?” He looked around again, then in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “For him to grab when… well, you know.”

“I can definitely leave it long enough,” I said, assuring him.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

I grabbed my mister and just barely dampened his hair and then went to work.