Page 29 of Dope Boys: Most Wanted
Svyn said nothing, just grunted, handing him the box with Nia’s supplies for both sets of clients. “That shit you on don’t make it quieter either.”
“You gon’ hop on me too?” Markus semi-snapped.
Svyn shook his head with a slight frown. “You know that ain’t my style. Just know I see you, nigga, and you look like shit. If you nice to Nia, she might cut your nappy ass head.”
Markus subconsciously ran his hand atop his hair and face. He frowned when Svyn started laughing. “Fuck you, nigga, you have her cut your hair.”
Svyn’s laughter grew louder. “So she can fuck up my shit? Nah, I’ll stick to Smitty on Lennox. Get yourself together, we got shit to do, Money.”
“Yeah aight,” Markus huffed, dropping the box by the door and closing it.
A shower, sweatsuit, skully and a blunt later, he was headed out of his house, strapped and on his way to Nia’s salon. It was no surprise when he got there that Nia was actively in the middle of another hair crisis. Sure that was noticeable and none of hisbusiness but what seemed to capture his attention more was Reign stocking the supply shelf with the color Nia needed the night before.
He nodded in her direction, earning him nothing but Reign’s inability not to step in and help Nia.
“You’re literally burning her hair off,” Nia grunted toward the stylist.
“I’ve done this a million times,” the stylist justified. “Her hair just isn’t made for this.”
“If she isn’t above a haircut, it can be neutralized and styled,” Reign spoke up quietly. It was soft, paced, and assuring. Markus hadn’t heard her cadence. That voice that flowed from her timid being served as serum for his soul. Foreign but oh so needed. It cemented him. He placed the box in her office in the faux wall and positioned himself between the supply room and salon floor.
Nia looked at the client in the mirror. The client, an older woman with flawless brown skin ignored her current stylist and peered at Reign.
“Can you fix it?” she quizzed. The way she pierced her brows together it was evident that the stylist she booked would never touch her hair again.
Reign paused and looked at Nia. “I-I ca-”
“She can,” Nia interjected. “Ms. Jayne, I’ll comp your service today.”
“Well then…” Ms. Jayne paused, looking at Reign awaiting her name.
“Reign,” she spoke softly.
“Reign, let’s see what you can do. My hair hasn’t been short since I met my husband, maybe something new will make him look at me again,” Ms. Jayne stated.
Reign was clearly nervous but lit up just enough at the opportunity. “Are you okay with a finger wave style. I canprobably highlight it after I see how much damage was done from the relaxer. If not, in six weeks we can revisit your color.”
“Do your thing. You got a twinkle in your eyes like you know what you’re doing.”
That comment made Reign smile just a little. Markus found himself stuck, watching her movements as she walked Ms. Jayne to the shampoo bowl. From the bowl to the dryer she stayed with her client every step of the way before leaving her to deep condition for another thirty minutes.
Back to the supply room, Reign ignored Markus and looked at Nia.
“I don’t have a license. This could get you shut down,” Reign shared. “I’m not trying to cause trouble or find it.”
Nia smirked. “I’ll figure out your license situation. Ms. Jayne don’t like nobody in her hair. Not even me. She likes you. She’s here every Tuesday. Consider this a trial period.”
Reign chewed on her lip and bounced her leg.
“How you just gon’ offer her a position and not run it by me?” Markus quizzed.
Sure his methods of wanting to be in her space were abrupt and annoying to the women for their own separate reasons, but he couldn’t help himself. Something he didn’t have the time or space for but he sensed Reign was the balm he needed.
Reign refused to even look in his direction.
“Because, Money, you handle the shit out there, I handle the shit in here,” Nia stated. “Why are you here? Like what’s the reason? I don’t need you here.”
“I need a haircut,” he stated, roaming from the supply room to the chair Ms. Jayne previously held. “If she can cut my hair, she can be here.”
