1
Chapter 1
___ Benjamin POV ___
"Damn it, Paul, I guess I'll have to give in to Brittney's constant nagging about that salon she's been raving about. Because I just hung up with Frederick; his parents were in a horrific car accident, and he had to leave the country to help his younger siblings." Frederick is my barber.
"It's a tough situation. I hope his parents recover quickly. It seems like you'll have no choice since Frederick will be out of commission for a while."
“Brittney has been on my a*s for months about this amazing chick she goes to. Always telling me Frederick's fine, but this chick is the absolute best, incredibly talented, and on and on. I just don't enjoy crowded public places like that."
Humans can be quite peculiar at times, especially to us Werewolves. Women often come across as overly flirtatious, making suggestive comments and unwelcome advances, while men find us intimidating, constantly trying to challenge or provoke us, which is worse for me as an alpha.
We, as Werewolves, aren't allowed to engage in these challenges because we're too strong, our strength could lead to fatal consequences.
“Well, Alpha, you have lucked out, it seems you're out of options. Brittney won't let you go to anyone other than Frederick or her favorite stylist. Should I fetch her for you now?" My Beta Paul says with a knowing grin and a chuckle, knowing my sister all too well.
"Thanks, Paul, that would be helpful." He leaves my office to locate my younger sister.
Ah, Brittney is a force to be reckoned with. She is loyal to a fault, fun-loving, all-consuming, overwhelming, energetic, and scheming as sh*t.
If she decides to take an interest in a part of your life, she can scheme and plan in ways you'll never see coming.
I’m surprised that she has not run interference between Frederick and myself in the past, but there is no doubt in my mind that she won’t let this opportunity pass.
Skipping into the room, Brittney asks joyfully why I wanted to see her.
"Hi, big brother. How are you? Did you sleep well? I heard you're looking for me. How can I assist?" She asks in one breath. I smile at her enthusiasm, shake my head, and hug her.
I step back, anticipating the high-pitched sounds about to escape her lips.
“Brittney, uh, I need the name and number of the chick you are always jabbering on about, Frederick has had a family emergency and had to leave..." Before I could even finish.
"Awww, I feel sorry for him. But yayyy! I'm sooooo excited! When do you want to go? I'll set up the appointment and handle everything. You're going to love her; she's the best—professional but fun and loving, and soooo good at what she does, eek. I can’t wait.”
She claps her hands and jumps up and down. I shake my head with a smile. "As soon as possible. I have an important meeting with the other Alphas the day after tomorrow, and I need to look sharp."
"I'll see if she can fit you in today."
"Thanks, sis." She leaves my office bubbling with excitement, and I sit back down at my desk, wondering if I've made the right choice. You see, my reluctance to go to this particular place stems from Brittney's long history there, but something changed about a year ago.
The first time it happened, it left me baffled for days. I had returned home from a meeting and greeted my family as I entered the pack house. The moment I approached Brittney, there was a lingering scent that stopped me in my tracks.
"Where have you been?" She frowned at me.
"Just my regular hair appointment. You know I go twice a week."
"Is that all?" She nodded and walked away, and from that day on, every time she returned from there, I was hit with a strange sense of confusion from that lingering scent, one I couldn't decipher.
.
___ Ava's POV ___
I stand in front of the salon where I've been working for some time now. As I admire the beautiful design, I can't help but feel grateful for having this job. I moved here from overseas and have slowly started building friendships, as I've lost most of my family—both parents to death, and my half-wit brother is still alive but offers no support, quite the opposite.
Despite life's hardships, I'm thankful to be here today. Some of my colleagues and clients have become like family to me. Still, there's always that one rotten apple in the bunch.
As I take in the salon's marvelous design, I appreciate the different themes in each room, creating a unique atmosphere. The open-plan reception and waiting area are welcoming, with a stunning reception desk housing our appointment book and other essentials. But the waiting area steals the show, featuring various comfortable couches, wingback chairs, and small coffee tables. A bookshelf offers a diverse selection of reading material, from the latest magazines to self-help, autobiographies, children's stories, teen fantasy, and romance, including a few racy novels. We have a versatile coffee machine that can prepare almost any warm beverage you desire.
Moving beyond the small doorway, we find the main floor, divided by a floor-to-ceiling wall, providing easy access to both stations. One station is for chemical processes, the other for cutting and styling. We also have back and private rooms accessible from both sides: the washroom, bathrooms, a staff-only chemical room, and a kitchen.
I put my things away and prepare for the day when my phone rings. Seeing Brittney's name on the caller ID, I smile because she's a whirlwind of emotions and schemes. Despite her quirks, I've grown fond of her and feel fortunate to have formed a close friendship.
"Hi, Brittney, how are you?"
This girl could talk the hind legs off a donkey. She explained her brother's situation and asked if I could help him today. "Let me check. Yes, I can fit him in as my last client before my half-day break." After confirming the time and exchanging pleasantries, we hang up, and I proceed with my work.
The rotten apple is at it again. Genevieve has been at the salon for years, while I'm relatively new. Consequently, my client base is smaller but growing steadily.
"You don't have a client right now, so start with my foils while I..." she trails off, not needing to finish. It's her usual move. She's a lazy, entitled brat who enjoys taking credit for others' work, but it usually backfires on her. As I follow her instructions and work on the client's foils, my mind keeps wandering to Brittney's brother. What's his name again...?
