CHAPTER 11

Yolanda gets to the playground first.

She’s a little girl again, playing on the slides, the seesaw, the monkey bars.

She sees the swings and runs toward them.

She jumps on and swings herself higher and higher.

She feels so free.

Suddenly, she feels someone grab her arm and yank her off the swing.

She lands hard on the ground and feels a painful burning sensation in her arm. It might be broken.

A group of little girls, no more than ten years old, stand above her, looking down at her. She can’t see their faces.

They begin to attack her, each taking turns hitting her face, kicking her in the back, and stomach.

She screams.

* * *

Yolanda woke up in a cold sweat. She looked up at her alarm clock. 6:00 a.m.

She turned on the light on her bedside table.

These dreams have to stop; they’re driving me crazy.

She took a long sip from the glass of water by her bed.

Just then the phone rang and startled her, almost making her drop the glass.

Who could it be this early?

“Hello?” Yolanda said, her voice groggy from sleep.

“What’s up, girl! Get your lazy butt out of bed! You have to get an early start, Miss Assistant Manager.”

“Don’t say that! I don’t have the job yet.”

Yolanda almost couldn’t believe it herself. When Karen told her Maxwell wanted to talk to her upstairs, she just assumed it was something bad—just like they all did when they had to go upstairs. She could barely stop her knees from shaking as she walked out of the elevator onto the third floor. It looked like the lobby of a hotel Yolanda knew she couldn’t afford. Huge sofas in the reception area sat under bright windows that reflected the shine of the hardwood floors. She went up to the desk, and gave her name to Victoria, the secretary, and soon was following her down the long hall to Maxwell’s office.

His office was set in dark tones of mahogany, from the dark paneled walls to the rich brown leather furniture to the gleaming wood floors. It would be impossible to suggest that Maxwell’s office belonged to anyone other than him.

“Thanks, Vicki. Have a seat, Yolanda,” he said, his eyes never leaving his computer screen.

Vicki nodded, and with the click of the door, was gone. Yolanda sat in the brown leather chair in front of his desk.

He removed his glasses and studied her for a moment.

“Due to the departure of Sheila, we have a position available for assistant manager. We feel that after training, you would be qualified for this position, so we are inviting you to interview for it—if you think this is something you would be ready take on.”

“I was born ready,” Yolanda blurted. “I want the job.”

Maxwell laughed.

“Well, your enthusiasm is hereby noted, but there will be two interviews, and then Dee Dee and I will make that decision. You do know that you will no longer have the creative outlet of styling hair? That you will have to change gears and think about the business side of the salon? Of course you’ll be appropriately compensated, but it is something to consider. Everyone in management is pretty content, so having a position become open is pretty rare—”

“I know. I’ve waited a long time to have this opportunity, and I want to interview.”

Maxwell put his glasses back on.

“Great. We’ll set the interview up for next week.”

“I still can’t believe all that happened to you! I know you’re nervous, but you have to be excited too, right?” Natalie asked, yanking Yolanda out of reliving her meeting with Maxwell.

“Yeah, there are a lot of people who want this job.”

“Don’t mess this up worrying about other people. You just worry about you and do the best you can. Now get up and get dressed. You know you move slow in the morning. Just remember the little people downstairs when you get the job.”

“Girl, there is no way I could ever forget about you! Don’t even start thinking like that.”

“I’m just saying, that’s all. Go, get ready and let me know the minute you know.”

“I pretty much have to get it or my parents will know that I lied and that I’m a total loser.”

“Girl, put your rubber band on and pop yourself a billion times for being so negative. That’s no kind of attitude to take into a job interview.”

“Okay.”

“Now get your butt up and get that job!” Natalie said, and hung up.

She looked at her clock. 6:13.

She sighed and decided to follow Natalie’s advice and get ready for work.

* * *

Yolanda scrutinized herself in the mirror.

Her soft brown hair was straight after thirty minutes with her ceramic flat-iron. She wanted to look professional, sophisticated. Her make-up was light, showing off the spray of freckles she had on her nose and cheeks.

After minutes of standing in front of her closet, she chose a simple black long-sleeve shirt with wide-leg pants. She left her shirt tucked out, and accented it with a thin, black belt at the waist.

“Always wear a belt,” Yolanda remembered her mother saying. “Since you don’t have much of a shape, you have to build your body.”

She looked at herself in the full-length mirror. You’re not half bad. She smiled and made herself not look at the rest of her body. Okay, just a quick peek. Sometimes it surprised her how skinny she was. She didn’t have anything that truly identified her as a woman. It was one of the reasons she would never cut her hair.

She sighed, grabbed her purse, gave Precious a kiss, and locked the door to her apartment.

* * *

Maxwell took another sip of his coffee and checked who he was going to interview next.

Yolanda Peterson.

He smiled, and buzzed Vicki to bring her into his office.

He could tell by the way she carried herself that she had a crush on him, but he hoped that it wouldn’t interfere with her work. He wasn’t immune to the many women that threw themselves at him, and Yolanda was just one of many. He was beyond flattered by all the attention, but it bothered him that not one of the women had tried to really get to know him. Beyond mindless flirting, no one had really tried to get inside his head.

Except Theresa.

She let Maxwell know whenever possible that she was ready to renew their relationship. He still had strong feelings for Theresa…but not enough to overcome all the lies she’d told. She had been leading a double life, a life that he had no knowledge of. How could you really love someone that you never really knew? That you might not ever know? He shouldn’t have been engaged to a woman without knowing what was in her past. Did she think she could keep running away?

He watched Yolanda walk into his office, thinking it was wrong to compare the two women, but Yolanda had nothing when it came to Theresa’s beauty. Theresa’s presence captivated you, demanded your attention. Yolanda was so skinny she made you shudder and want to look away. Everyone at work knew the girl could eat, so that blew his anorexia theory out of the water. No one ever heard any noises in the restroom that could possibly suggest bulimia, so everyone had put her weight issue aside, guessing that she had been born with a very high metabolism.

As she sat in front of his desk, he watched her twist several colorful rubber bands on her wrist, snapping them against her brown skin. Her feet tapped on the wood floor and she glanced around the room, refusing to give him eye contact. He smiled to ease her nerves and she smiled back, seeming to relax a little.

When she smiles, she is kinda pretty. Really pretty, in fact. Let’s just say the girl has a pretty face.

“Yolanda, I won’t be technically interviewing you. I’m just going to be filling you in on your duties if you’re chosen to become assistant manager and asking you a few brief questions.”

She exhaled, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders.

“How long have you thought about being assistant manager?”

“For a while now. I’ve been doing hair for eleven years, six of those at Behave, and I’m ready to take the next step and learn how a salon really operates.”

“Well, Behave is a really big salon. If you get hired, you’ll be part of the team with all the other assistant mangers. You know we have several?”

“Sure. You have Peter, who is in the spa, and Angela in the café—”

“Yes, and many more. The assistant manager for the stylists will have a full plate of duties. If you get chosen, you will have to be proficient in customer service and conflict resolution. How would you feel if you had to write someone up for bad language in the salon?”

“I don’t think I would have a problem with that.”

“Even if this person was someone you were close to?”

“No. If she was caught breaking the rules, she would have to understand that it’s nothing personal. I have a job to do, just as the stylists do.”

“Good. You would also be in charge of the stylist inventory. That includes retail and any products the stylists might need in the course of their day.”

He watched her nodding as she took in all the information.

“You would also be responsible for doing all the scheduling for the stylists and the receptionists. Maid service, cleaning, and landscaping will all report to you for their duties as well.”

“So basically, if something is not clean or not right—”

“Then it is your fault for not taking care of it.”

“Well, this sounds like a lot of work, Maxwell, but let me assure you that I’m the woman for the job.”

“Really?”

“I know you all already know my retail sales and customer service are excellent. You also know that in the six years that I’ve been here, I’ve never been written up. Never been late. Nothing. But that is not even the most important reason you should consider hiring me.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’m the best. There’s no beating around it, I’ll do the best work for the job.”

Maxwell leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t impressed much, but Yolanda had passed with flying colors. She came in looking like a sheep, but came across like a lion.

“Very good, Yolanda. You’ve done well. We’ll let you know if you receive a second interview.”