The Salon – Part 19

Looks That Say It All

Mia opened the guest-list app to see who had how many clients that day. Her coworkers leaned against the reception desk. The morning's perfumes, still lingering — Lara's delicate, powdery scent, Gael's summer-evening cherry orchard, Nico's citrus grove — mingled into a colorful cloud above Mia's head.

"Lara, you've got seven today. Nico, three for you. Gael, sweetheart, you're making six half-hour clients and one full hour happy."

Gael smoothed a hand down his white cotton T-shirt, then slid it into the pocket of his beige linen trousers.

"That's a lot… Any regulars among them?"

Mia shook her head slowly.

"Just Dolores — the rest are new. Six strangers to meet today, sweetheart."

"And me?" Nico asked.

"Nothing but regulars for you."

Relieved, Nico nodded. Satisfied, he drummed his fingers on the counter a few times, then headed toward the hair salon.

Lara waited patiently, twirling her soft, rose-colored pearl bracelet. It didn't matter to her who came in. Sometimes she didn't even ask. The night before, she'd usually check the headcount, just to decide whether to plan around paperwork the next day — but who the clients actually were never interested her. Nico needed to brace himself mentally whenever a difficult client was coming. For Lara, though, every session was its own separate, isolated event, with its own fleeting moods and states of mind.

Dolores and Rosita came in through the door together. The two elderly women looked each other up and down, taking each other's measure. Dolores greeted Gael in a drawn-out, whiny voice, then shot Rosita a meaningful look. She wanted to watch her retired rival turn green with envy. Both of them were convinced a real contest was underway between them for the favors of young, strong, handsome Gael.

Before the treatment room door closed behind her, Dolores — who a few weeks ago wouldn't have dared get a massage — called back to Lara:

"Darlings, I can't promise I won't give myself over completely to the pleasure. I'm afraid I won't be able to control the sounds of ecstasy."

"I believe you're here for a neck massage, sweetheart," Lara soothed. "That one doesn't usually come with quite so much moaning… Besides," she added, "we're only happy if we can help with relaxation and recovery."

Rosita rolled her eyes, then winked at Nico in the mirror.

"Stupid bitch. She knows she doesn't stand a chance with that horse face."

Nico's expression stayed perfectly still, though he had to bite his lip to keep himself in check.

*

The newcomer's thin, whining greeting scraped down Nico's spine like a needle. His eyelids grew heavy for a moment, and his body flinched.

He didn't look toward the door. He knew it wasn't for him, and he didn't even want to look. He let his hand drop. He slid his palm slowly, firmly along his thigh and back again. He glanced down. His hand had stopped shaking. He could get back to work.

Lara smiled warmly at the teenage girl, then shot a pointed look at the big headphones on her head. The girl understood and slid one earpad off her ear.

When Mia stepped out of the restroom, she scanned the room like a conductor searching for a passenger who'd just boarded. Though she'd only met her once, she recognized the girl even from behind — the one who'd called Nico's work on her mother's hair "fucking shit."

Mia turned towards the hairdressing area and waved her arms frantically to get Nico’s attention. Nico pulled a reluctant face, then nodded. Mia threw her arms wide and pointed at Lara. Nico shrugged.

Lara couldn't help noticing the strange pantomime unfolding between her two coworkers. She first made sure the girl wasn't watching her face, then raised her eyebrows and gave Mia a questioning nod. The receptionist tipped her head toward Lara's client, then waved her hand back and forth in front of her mouth, signaling that something was off.

"Tell me, sweetheart," Lara began softly, "have you been here before?"

The girl rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. With my mom. That hairdresser with two left hands." She tossed her head back toward Nico. "I'm amazed they haven't fired him yet."

Lara nodded sympathetically, then secretly shot Mia a reassuring look to let her know she had the situation under control. The receptionist obediently sat back down.

"So why'd you come back to us?"

"Because everyone sings your praises."

"And your mother? What did she say about her hair?"

The girl groaned and threw her eyes up to the ceiling.

"I don't know what's wrong with her, but she loves that hideous granny hairdo."

At those words, Lara had to duck her head to hide her smile.