Problem Hair“I just can't do a thing with it,” said Meddy, glowering at her reflection, and at Fabio standing behind her. Fabio who, it was said, could work miracles with scissors and comb. His salon was if-you-have-to-ask-the-price-you-can't-afford-it exclusive. A haven for the rich and famous. And, in the upper room, those individuals in need of a discreet, special attention.
“You have problem hair, madam?” he asked, standing over her, assessing her. The gold and marble décor of the private room sparkled around him. It was all classical arches and ionic columns. She liked it.
“You could say that,” she said. “It has a mind of its own.”
“What products have you tried on it?”
“Lots. But there tends to be a … bad reaction.”
“May I see?”
She kept it covered up, of course. Hoods, hats, sc
