Blonde Highlights
I was the first to see him enter the shop; all messy curls and a dazzling smile. The old fashioned three piece was cute, really worked for him. A little worn maybe but he sure knew how to wear it. Yep, this was A-grade material from top to bottom. I took a second to admire him, it was such a nice change from our usual run of fussy old dames and stressed mothers of four.
I should have been quicker off the mark. While I was standing there catching flies Lizzie elbowed old Mrs Wallace out of the way and ushered him to her chair. Bitch.
Maria and Chloe weren't far behind and soon he had a circle of admirers, and not just my desperate co-workers. I could see old Mrs Elliot and Elizabeth Andrews craning their wrinkled necks to get a better look. Their happy little clucks and sighs made me think of old hens remembering their favourite chicks from yesteryear.
Maria takes his jacket and a swear she sniffs it before hanging it on the rack. The way she rubs her cheek against the material makes me think of a tom cat around a piece of catnip. That girl has no shame at all. Anyway, back to the man in question.
He said his name was Patrick and he was just there for a trim. Luckily my brain snapped into gear while they were suggesting different styles (Heath Ledger? Really?). I had the basin ready before they realised where I was at. I might have stepped a little too hard on Maria's toes to get her to move but it was totally worth it to sink my fingers into those glorious curls.
I think we made some small talk while I massaged his scalp but to be honest I can't remember. I'm pretty sure I dropped a little drool on him at one point but luckily he thought it was the shampoo. All the time I was bringing his hair to a lather I could feel Lizzie's eyes lasering my back. I wouldn't be needing a wax for a month the way she was amping up her glare.
I have to work with her every Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday mornings so I reluctantly hurried it up. It was probably for the best because I was definitely going to embarrass myself by actually vocalising my internal moans of pleasure. I mean his hair was perfect. Thick and golden and with just the right amount of curl. When you're a hair stylist you dream of working with hair like this instead of the limp, stringy hair of some overworked waitress with dandruff fit to fill a snow globe.
I'd barely rinsed out the last of the suds before Lizzie moved on him with a hot fluffy towel. That girl has an impressive rack and she aint backward in shoving them forward when a man catches her eye. Still, I've never seen her dry hair by throwing a towel over the person's face and then leaning forward until he had a boob resting against either ear.
Patrick half rose out of his chair in alarm and we might well have lost him there and then if Maria hadn't dragged Lizzie back by her hair. I was going to seize my chance but Chloe pulled rank and made me take on Justine and her horrible nails.
Things settled down after that. Chloe got to work and I swear she was cutting his hair a blade at a time. Not that anyone in the salon was complaining. Could that man talk! His voice could have charmed birds from the trees (or us from our panties). It wasn't a half hour before he had Lizzie confessing to sleeping with her best friend's man and Maria admitting she had unresolved issues with her mother. Not long after that he was encouraging Chloe to leave that no hoper who was bleeding her dry. It was so nice to talk to a man who actually listened!
Patrick eventually got around to me and told me something about not seeking validation from men. What the hell does that even mean? Am I some sort of bus ticket? Whatever. I didn't let it bother me, I was too excited he was paying me some attention.
The whole salon was hanging on his every word and I couldn't remember working a nicer morning. The only downer was when Chloe fingered his frayed collar and commented his wife should take better care of him. I swear it was like big black cloud passed over the sun. He explained he was a widower, poor man.
All this time Lizzie was scheming for a way to get back into the action. When Chloe's haircut was finally over she sashayed over and made her move. She played it smart, complementing Chloe on a great job and then innocently asking Patrick if he'd like blonde highlights like Brad Pitt in Ocean's 11.
I could see Patrick was going to refuse so I rushed forward and praised Lizzie's skills to the heavens. I'd have said anything to get that man to stay a little longer but in this case it was true. Lizzie might have her faults but she's a diva with a dye bottle, a peroxide prima donna.
I don't know if it was the thought of looking like Brad Pitt or maybe just the way I asked but after looking a little sad for a second he said he said why not, it wasn't like he had anything else to do on a Saturday. I couldn't hold back my excited grin. He actually listened to me!
Pretty soon he was cheerful again and had us all laughing at his silly jokes and tricks. He started guessing our stars signs and darned if he didn't get every single one right. By now I wasn't even bothering to pretend to be doing Justine's nails. Not that she was complaining given the eye candy in front of her.
Justine's husband drives trucks all day and is hairier than most things you'd find in the zoo. I won't even talk about what sitting in a truck all day does to your ass. Let's just say when he leaves the shop in his low rider jeans you'd swear you were staring at the grand canyon.
After the blonde highlights were done, Maria gave him a manicure and I was just trying to decide if it was worth risking those horrible brown shoes to offer a pedicure when she walked in. A little bit of a woman who gave off vibes like she owned the place. I don't know how she pulled it off but this lady had presence and she didn't seem too happy with what she was looking at.
This angry miss walked right up to Patrick and kicked him in the foot! I watched with interest, expecting him to tell her to take a hike but instead he smiled so wide I realised all the ones he'd given us that morning were just cheap imitations.
He called her Lisbon or something, which I guess explained why she tried to dress like a man. Why he gave her the time of day I'll never know. She was so out of his league. I mean sure she had these big green eyes and a tight little bod but what guy wants that when he can grab himself a big loving handful instead? Besides, she had bangs. Someone needed to tell her it wasn't the 90s and that shit don't fly no more.
She must have noticed me staring because she glared in my direction and said "what?" It was all I could do to snap my mouth shut. That actually made her roll her eyes and then she went right back to laying into poor Patrick. She was yelling something about them having a case and that he wasn't to leave his phone in the car.
Patrick didn't seem bothered at all. He patted the seat next to him and told her to relax and get a mani pedi but she just grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the chair. He barely had time to wave us all goodbye and throw some money at the till before she hustled him out the door. I think Mrs. Elliott actually started to cry.
Chloe, Maria, Lizzie and me just stared dumbfounded. Didn't she realise she had a man-god on her hands? She should have been getting down on her knees and thanking God for every day she got to look at those curls and that smile. Instead she looked at him like he was a plate of chopped liver. Talk about not appreciating what you got.
She paused in the doorway. Instead of staring at Patrick's ass like a sensible person she looked back at us. Then I saw it, this little happy smirk. Oh yeah, she knew what she had… She just didn't like to share.
Lucky bitch.
A/N: I've been battling writer's block for over a month and it took something very silly to shake it off. Hope this wasn't too over the top.
