Two Thumbs Up
Nico stepped into the still-empty salon wearing a satisfied smile. He eagerly rummaged through the black woven basket hanging from his arm, packed with decorative odds and ends. He had brought something for everyone’s workstation—little touches to make the place feel even more personal.
His bleached-blond hair bounced around his face, looking especially bright against his darker eyebrows. As he moved around the salon with springy steps, he occasionally stopped to admire the results.
He placed a gold pencil holder and a string of warm fairy lights on Mia’s reception desk. Lara received a black-and-gold striped tissue box and a few small gold-colored scented candles. A discreet black nameplate with gold lettering appeared on Gael’s door. Beside the wash station, Nico arranged several white pebbles on a black tray and set a gold-rimmed bottle of essential oil among them, so the corner would radiate calm from the moment anyone walked in. At his own station, he placed an hourglass on a slim gold-framed shelf. Not to measure time. Quite the opposite. It reminded him that good hair couldn’t be rushed.
A gold-rimmed bowl filled with individually wrapped mint candies soon found its place on the waiting-area table. In the manicure corner stood an elegant gold vase holding several snow-white orchids so lifelike that only a close look revealed they were artificial.
Nico stepped back and surveyed the salon with satisfaction.
They weren’t anything major.
Just small touches.
But he knew that sometimes it was the little things that made the difference between a place that was simply beautiful and one that had a soul.
“I still have ridiculously good taste,” he declared at last, raising a hand. “Perfect day. Perfect start.”
*
Mia stared around the salon open-mouthed when she saw all the new decorations.
“Nico, you’re an angel!” she exclaimed. “What’s all this for?”
Nico shrugged.
“No reason. I’m in a good mood, my morning started great, and I happened to come across all these beautiful things. You know how much I love decorating.”
Mia stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Resting her forehead against his back, she squeezed him.
“As a thank-you, I’ll make you a coffee before your first client arrives.”
She gave him one last squeeze, let go, and skipped off toward the kitchen.
Nico watched the scatterbrained receptionist with a gentle smile.
*
The ageless, baby-faced woman shifted shyly from one foot to the other. Slightly behind her, a teenage girl wearing oversized black headphones swayed with her eyes closed, moving to the rhythm of music no one else could hear. Mia glanced at her monitor and gave a few quick nods.
“Nico will be right with you. And you,” she said, looking at the girl, “make yourself comfortable.”
The girl gave a brief nod and sat down on the sofa. She picked up a hairstyle magazine. After one last glance at her mother, she became absorbed in its pages.
Mia pressed a hand to her chest.
“How adorable,” she whispered. “I wasn’t like that at all,” she admitted. “I was impossible. Couldn’t sit still to save my life. You’re lucky she’s so calm.”
The woman smiled awkwardly, then cast an impatient glance toward the wash station.
Mia caught it immediately.
“Go right ahead,” she said, gesturing toward the washing area. “You can sit down already. Nico will be here any second.”
Sure enough, by the time the woman settled into the chair, Nico was already beside her with a cape and fresh towels.
A gentle silence settled over the salon. Mia was absorbed in her phone. Nico worked without speaking while the woman watched his every move with interest. Every so often, Nico’s eyes drifted to the girl in the mirror. As if sensing it, she would lift her head and offer him a faint smile.
Nico still remembered his own teenage years vividly. That incomprehensible, unpredictable world that seemed perfect one moment and like hell the next. He remembered the annoying adults who always thought they knew better. The hideous clothes his mother had tried to force on him. The pocket money that was never enough for anything. The crushing feeling of not being understood.
Compared to all that, this girl seemed remarkably calm.
She didn’t roll her eyes.
She didn’t sigh dramatically.
She didn’t look at her mother as though her very existence were a personal insult. In fact, she seemed genuinely interested in watching the hairstyle take shape.
When he finally finished, Nico found himself looking at the girl first. She flashed a broad smile and raised both thumbs. Instinctively, he straightened up before finally turning to his client.
“Well? What do you think?”
The woman ran uncertain fingers through the unfamiliar shape and color of her new hairstyle. The sparkle in her eyes made it clear she liked what she saw.
“I look completely different,” she whispered. “There’s another woman in the mirror.”
Nico might have been curious about what had prompted such a dramatic change, but he’d heard too many stories over the years. And stories like that were usually heartbreaking. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin this day.
He escorted her to the reception desk so she could pay. Once everything was settled, the woman extended her hand.
“Thank you. Truly.”
Then she turned to her daughter.
“So where are we going now?”
“To buy a hat,” the teenager replied in a thin, childlike voice.
Her mother’s eyebrows shot up.
“A hat? What kind of hat?”
The girl shrugged.
“I don’t care. Get whatever you want. Just make sure it’s big enough to cover your hair.”
The woman’s face hardened. Her body went rigid.
“Why would I need to cover it?” she asked flatly.
“Because it looks fucking awful. There’s no way I’m getting on a bus with you looking like that,” the girl said, then spun around and walked out the door.