Chapter 2
855 Words
Beth’s heart raced as a tattooed man in a black leather vest came into the little hair salon where she worked. He smiled at Jasmine at the front counter and Beth’s stomach somersaulted. The deep rumble of his voice as he asked for a cut made Beth want to close her eyes and let the sound wash over her. Instead she finished sweeping up the hair from her last client and cleaning her chair while doing her best to keep how much is voice affected her from showing. When she was done, Beth went up to the reception desk.
“Who’s next?” Beth looked down at the book in front of Jasmine. Something was off, it said Sadist. She had to be reading that wrong.
“He is.” Jasmine nodded in the tattooed man’s direction. “His name is Sadist.”
Beth blinked. Who on earth would name their child something like that? She pasted a smile on and looked up. Maybe the name was a prank, but on whom?
“Sadist?”
He looked up from the magazine in his lap, met her gaze and smiled. “Yes?”
“Right this way.” Beth waited while he stood, then led him to her chair. “What are you looking for today?”
“Mostly a trim.”
His hair was cut in what she thought of as a viking mohawk. Partly because of a cable series she’d been watching recently. The sides were buzzed almost like a military high and tight, but the top was long enough it hung to his shoulders.
“The sides are getting a little long and you might need to take some off the ends, too.” He ran one hand through the length.
“All right.” She covered him with a cape and turned the chair until they both faced the mirror, her behind him. “Are you looking for a shave or trim on your beard too?”
He raked his hands through his facial hair and looked like he was considering it. “Sure, why not trim this too.” He smoothed his hand over the beard., then tucked it back under the drape.
She ran her hands through his hair, asking questions so she could be sure exactly what he wanted before she started cutting, then picked up her comb and a couple of clips to get started.
“Is your name really Sadist or were you messing with us?” She was used to making small talk with her clients. It helped pass the time and made the fact she was touching them seem a little less awkward.
“My name is really Sadist.”
“It’s an odd name.” She smiled at his reflection as she worked, hoping he wouldn’t be insulted by her comment.
“It is, but it’s what my brothers call me.”
“I like your artwork.” She knew she was babbling, but it was expected. “I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, but I can’t decide what I want.” She worked a while longer. “I really like this piece.” She brushed her fingers over the flames that licked up the back of his neck. “Do you mind my asking who did it? I really like the style.”
“I don’t mind, but it won’t do a lot of good. He’s gone.”
The back of her neck itched, she glanced in the mirror to find him watching her and quickly looked away.
“What kind of piece you thinking of getting?” His smoky voice seemed to touch something deep inside her.
“I really don’t know. I was thinking maybe something with a pair of scissors or a straight razor, but I haven’t found anything that speaks to me.”
“I take it you like what you do?”
“I do.” She paused, thinking about it for a minute. “I had other options, jobs that make better money. My parents pushed me to go to college and find a better career, but I love what I do.” She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she realized how much she really did love cutting, coloring, and styling hair. Helping people find a look they loved made her happy.
His eyes narrowed and Beth couldn’t help but notice him watching her, an unfamiliar look in his eyes, as she finished his hair. When she was done, he ran his hands through his hair, flipping the top from one side to the other as he looked it over, then ran his hands along his newly smooth cheeks and nodded. He waited while she removed the cape, then stood and smiled at her.
“Thanks, what’s your name again?”
“Beth.”
“Thank you, Beth, you did a good job.”
She walked him to the counter and while Jasmine helped him, she cleaned up her space for the next client. Oddly, she couldn’t help but think about him, wondering what he’d been thinking as he watched her.
- Writer
