The Salon – Part 20

A Little Drama with Your Pedicure

Lara prepared the foot bath, set the water to a pleasant warmth, and checked that everything they needed for the pedicure was in place. She wiped down the color palette and quickly scanned the little bottles, making sure every shade was still on the shelf.

Even with the foul-mouthed, willowy Vera sitting in the wash chair, the salon had settled into an unusually peaceful quiet. All you could hear was the soft trickle of water, the discreet clatter of Mia's keyboard, and Vera's occasional muffled yawn.

"What was it you said — who's coming in for a pedicure?" Lara asked.

Mia's hands never paused, her eyes never left the monitor. She was clearly hammering out some email with great intensity.

"Emily. You know, the translator girl."

Lara's brow furrowed slightly.

"Emily... Emily... Hmm." Then her face brightened. "Emily! Right, got it. Hasn't been in for ages."

Mia still hadn't so much as shifted in her seat.

"She said she wouldn't be able to come for a while, but I can't remember why anymore. Doesn't matter. She's coming now."

But Lara's mind had already wandered off. A different face had come to mind at the name. Never mind. She hadn't seen that woman in a while either — just like the young woman who, a few minutes later, walked through the door looking pale, with dark circles under her eyes.

Emily sank wearily into the plush armchair and slid her feet into the warm bubbles. She closed her eyes and let herself be pampered. A long, satisfied sigh escaped her.

Vera chuckled.

"Careful with all that relaxing, sweetie. That's how trouble usually starts with me. I let my guard down a little, and then the words just come pouring out."

Emily didn't even open her eyes.

"I've got nothing to say right now, so everyone's safe."

Vera wasn't about to drop it.

"Uh-huh. Because you're the exception, the one nothing riveting ever happens to. Especially not at your age. Right. Sure."

Nico and Lara exchanged a look. The hairdresser raised his eyebrows, asking a silent question. Lara gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. She knew perfectly well that once Vera got going, there was no stopping her — at best they could jump in and try to soften the blow.

Mia was already perched on the edge of her seat, ready to pounce.

Emily smiled faintly.

"All I've got right now is drama, and I'm drowning in work besides. No time for excitement."

Vera's body tensed, her fingers gripping the arm of the salon chair.

"Drama will do just fine. Come on, out with it!"

Emily laughed.

"It's really boring, trust me."

Mia sprang up and paced a restless little circle around her chair. Emily had walked right into the trap. That was it — game over. Vera was about to pick her apart.

"Boring, like a perfect, harmonious relationship?"

Emily opened her eyes and looked at Vera. Their eyes met in the mirror. A self-satisfied smile spread across Vera's face.

"Boring, like agonizing over whether to get with my client — a guy way older than me — and dump my athletic, funny, age-appropriate lover for him instead."

Mia dropped back into her chair with a heavy thud. She propped her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands.

"Whoa!" Vera cackled. "That grandpa must have some seriously deep pockets if you'd trade a good-looking guy for him. At your age, it's basically every woman for herself, isn't it?"

"He's not a grandpa..."

Vera waved her off.

"No, no, of course not. But you're clearly eating yourself up over him being too old for you. Honestly, it's all a matter of perspective. My great-grandmother would probably say: what a hot piece of fresh meat. Me, well, no offense, but we're pretty much the same age — I'd trip right over his walker."

Mia burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Now I have to see this client of yours. Walker or no walker."

Vera made a face.

"I'm more interested in his wallet, honestly, if he's causing you this much of a dilemma."

Emily's head tipped back, and she dramatically covered her face with her hands.

"God, what have I gotten myself into..." she mumbled from behind her fingers. "I really walked straight into that one."

Lara gently took Emily's foot into her lap and got to work on the pedicure.

"Careful with any sudden movements from here on out."

Vera pounced on that immediately.

"Better not give the old man a heart attack with a missing toe."

A low ripple of laughter, tinged with disapproval, spread through the salon.

"All done, sweetheart," Nico announced with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Lara looked up. Nico rarely got flustered by Vera — it was usually his pent-up frustration with certain other clients that got to him. But right now, it seemed the foul-mouthed special-needs teacher's antics were more than he could take.

Nico adored his elderly clients. He treated them with a particular tenderness, as if it were his personal mission to make their lives a little better, a little brighter. He was fond of Vera too, but right now he was relieved not to have to keep listening to the walker jokes.

Vera, stalling for time, spent a good while brushing imaginary hairs off herself, then straightened up. She turned and looked Emily square in the eye.

"Screw that lover boy plenty, sweetie, because if you end up choosing the rich old man, the bedroom action won't happen whenever you want it to — it'll happen whenever the stars decide to line up just right."

Emily's gaze drifted. Maybe she was mulling over Vera's blunt words. Lara shook her head. She waited until the summer afternoon swallowed up Vera's figure, then handed Emily the color palette.

"So, what color would you like?"

"Red," Emily breathed. "Also... not only does he not need a walker, he's an absolute sex god."