Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Right now, I have a just-for-me hair project to work on. It’s after hours, and everyone’s gone except for Ondrea, the receptionist.
“So you’re letting me do anything I want, right?” I push Gina into my salon chair. I offered her a free cut and color if she would model for my portfolio.
She tosses her dark hair over one shoulder. “Yes. I trust you. But only if you tell me everything about last night.”
“Ooh, what happened last night?” Ondrea instantly appears behind me, clacking her lacquered nails together. She’s an adorable trans woman, who is barely out of high school and full of sass. She is literally the best thing about renting at Stylz because she has that knack for making everything fun and entertaining.
“I hooked up with a guy.” I flick a cape around Gina’s shoulders. I already have a plan in mind, so I begin to mix the hair dye in plastic bowls.
“A potential sugar daddy.” Gina waggles her brows.
“Ooh. Tell me more.” Ondrea flops into the empty salon chair beside Gina’s.
“Yeah. Spill, girl.”
“So, first of all, you missed how I met him. He literally saved me from Mr. sugar daddy wannabe idiot back by the bathrooms.” I finish mixing the dye and start combing through Gina’s hair.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
I separate the first section of hair and paint the color on it, then fold it up in foil. “The guy who bought me drinks thought that meant I owed him something, and he was trying to drag me back to the bar or something. Bobby grabbed him by the throat and smashed his face against the wall.”
Ondrea gives an exaggerated gasp. “Hawt.”
“Super hot,” Gina agrees.
“I know. And then I find out he’s your big tipper, so it sort of seemed meant to be.” I work the next section into foil, having long ago mastered the trick of keeping up a conversation and applying hair color.
“Sooo?” Gina drags out the “o” with a lift of her brows.
I nod my head as if I’m answering a yes or no question. “He was hot.”
“That’s it? I want details.”
“Yeah, we want details.” Ondrea spins the salon chair around in circles.
“Well, he took me to the Four Seasons, went down on me, fucked me hard, and tucked me in for the night.”
Ondrea pauses spinning to fan herself with her fingers, her tastefully long false lashes fluttering.
“Wait–so he didn’t stay?” Gina’s dissected my report already.
“No. Are you sure he’s not married?”
“Uh oh,” Ondrea says. “I don’t like that.”
“He’s not. He’s just playing sugar daddy. I’m telling you–that’s his thing. This is why you need him.” Gina taps her finger on the arm of her chair to make her point.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. I loved last night–don’t get me wrong. But it sort of felt like a relief when he left. I was feeling like I was in over my head and getting worried about what I was getting myself into. Especially when he said, I’m keeping you. I don’t even know what he meant by that, but it scared me a little.
“Don’t know what? Was he good in bed?”
Understatement. “So good.”
“Then what aren’t you sure about?” Ondrea wants to know.
“I’m not going to enter into some kind of financial arrangement for sex. I’m just not. That seems crazy.”
“The oldest profession.” Ondrea stands from her chair. “It’s not wrong to receive money just for being you. Just for being someone’s entertainment. It’s not like you hated it.”
“Yeah, I don’t know.”
“Well, how did he leave it? Is he going to call? What’s the deal?” Gina presses.
“Actually, he didn’t even ask for my number, but he said if I’m interested, I know where to find him.”
“So stew on it.”
Ondrea comes over to observe my technique closer. “Are you doing the same thing with her that you did with me?” I did her hair last week for photos for the portfolio, putting some dramatic fuchsia streaks around her face and underneath in the back.
“No, I’m going with something a little more subtle. Shades of burgundy.”
“Why do you need new portfolio pictures?” Gina asks.
“I’m applying for a training job with Stellar Hair Color. If I get it, they will fly me all over the country to teach hair stylists how to use their dyes.”
“Ooh, that sounds glamorous.”
“I know, and the pay is $120,000 a year.”
“Wow!”
“Which means I probably have no chance.” I paint another section of Gina’s hair.
“Don’t say that. You deserve that kind of salary. You’re worth it.”
“I’m thinking about filing bankruptcy to clear my medical bills,” I confide because I honestly cannot pin my hopes on this job. Bankruptcy won’t help with the back pay for the apartment or the salon, but if I could get out from under the medical debt, I could breathe a little.
“Don’t tell Arissa that,” Ondrea warns. “She’s already freaking out because you’re behind on rent here.” Arissa is the salon owner. I’ll admit that paying her took a slightly lower priority to paying the rent on my apartment, but I’d like to think she knows I’m good for it. I mean, I’m here every day, working my ass off. She knows I’m trying.