Page 35 of Embracing James

Ky left him alone and Casey had gone a half an hour before. Only Lance remained at his station, finishing a haircut for an older lady. James didn’t know the client, but that wasn’t strange. He didn’t always recognize everyone right away.

James finished cleaning up the salon and locked the front doors. When he returned, Lance turned the customer around to admire her new cut.

James now recognized her. Mrs. Trumbull. “Hi, Phelma,” James said. “Lance made you lovely, doll.”

“He did.” She grinned. “He even complimented my hair.”

“I told her I didn’t believe she was seventy-five–not with this few grays. It’s just not possible and it means she’s a unicorn,” Lance said. He removed the cape. “You’re done, honey. James can take you at the register.”

James stood at the counter to handle the transaction. Happy customers were returning customers. He brought up her account in the system and located her particular appointment. When she joined him at the counter, he turned the tablet around to see the charge. “That’ll be thirty-five dollars.”

“A bargain.” She offered up her credit card. “I’m glad you hired him. I liked how you cut my hair, but you’re always so busy.” She patted his hand as he gave her back the card. “You’re doing a good job.”

“Thank you.” He turned the tablet sideways for her signature. “I appreciate your business.”

“This is the only place I buy my shampoo. Of course I’ll be back.” She scrawled her name on the screen. “I need an appointment in a month.”

James gestured to Lance. “New appointment.”

“Yes.” Lance joined them at the counter. “When for?”

“A month from now,” she said. “I’ve got a wedding to attend.”

James pulled up the scheduling calendar. “Would you like exactly one month from today?”

“I’m off on that day. It’s a Thursday. That’s the day I have my niece,” Lance said. “Will Friday work?”

James brought up the next day. “We have something at ten-thirty, but depending on when you’re supposed to be at the wedding, that might be too early. We have five, but that might be too late. Is it a morning or afternoon wedding? Or is it on Saturday? If Lance is willing, he could get you in at nine on Saturday.” He tended to overthink these things.

“Five on Friday is fine.” She pulled out her phone. “It’s Friday at eight. I don’t know why they’re waiting so long, but my granddaughter insisted on that time.” She shrugged. “I see the text. Thank you. Have a good night.”

“You keep those hairs beautiful,” Lance said. “See you soon, hon.”

“You will.” She waved, then left.

“She’s exciting,” Lance said. “I think I heard gossip about everyone in this town over the last forty-five minutes.”

“You probably did. She likes to talk.” James checked the receipts and noted he’d been given the proper percentage of Lance’s sales. Good. “How do you like it here?” He closed down the tablet. “Happy?”

“I am, thank you. This is a great atmosphere. Much better than the cut-rate salon I worked at before.” Lance nodded to his station. “Give me ten minutes to clean up and we can close.”

“I locked the front door and we don’t have any other appointments tonight, so you’re fine.” James stayed at the counter and sent the totals for the day to his laptop in the apartment. He printed the strip of receipts, then shut everything down. Once he turned off the main lights and switched to the security ones in the front of the salon, he joined Lance back at his station. “Need help?”

“Almost done, but thank you.” Lance swept the hairs up and deposited them in the bin. He wiped his counter. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Me? I’ll be heading to my boyfriend’s this evening. You?” James turned the lights off at the four stations. “Doing anything fun?”

“I was going to ask you out for drinks,” Lance said. “As friends.”

“Maybe another night.” He hadn’t gone out for drinks in forever. Not with friends or lovers. “Maybe all the stylists can get together and have a night out.”

“That’d be great.” Lance tossed his rag into the dirty towels bin. “I’m ready.”

“Great.” He bagged up the used towels and rags. He’d take them to the apartment and wash them later. He could probably bring them along to Paul’s, but he should ask first.

Lance gathered his phone, wallet and keys. “If you want to come out, I’ll be at the Jester with friends. See you.”

James waved. “Maybe next time.” He wasn’t in the mood to go to the Jester. He’d rather be with Paul.

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