Tara searched for what to say to Michelle. “It’s a beautiful style. I can do something similar, but not this exactly.”
Michelle’s face clouded. “Why not?”
Cringing inwardly, Tara plunged ahead. “Your hair is quite a bit shorter than the model’s in this picture.” She touched a spot on Michelle’s back. “Hers is at least this long.” She went on to explain an alternative and, to her surprise, Michelle accepted her proposal without rancor. When she was finished, Tara passed her a hand mirror, spinning the chair so she could see how it looked.
Michelle fingered a curl at the nape of her neck.
“What do you think?” Tara asked.
“I like it.”
Considering the source, the words felt like high praise. Tara relaxed. “Do you have someone to help you into your dress?” She removed the cape from Michelle’s shoulders.
“My mom will be home.”
Tara recoiled at the mention of June Fixmer. If Michelle was a bad apple—and there was no doubt about that—June was the tree.
Gwen came over. “You look gorgeous. Are you going to the dance?”
“I’m a chaperone,” said Michelle.
Gwen beamed. “You’re going to make all the girls jealous. What color is your dress?”
Michelle’s eyes narrowed. “Black and red.”
“Michelle, this is Gwen Simpson,” Tara offered. “She started here a few weeks ago.”
“Stay right there.” Gwen hurried to her workstation and burrowed in a drawer. She returned with several red jewels, each on the end of curled wire. “I can put these in if you like them. They would show up nicely against your hair. Are they the right shade for your dress?”
Michelle took a jewel and inspected it. “These are pretty. They’re just the right color.” She held one up to her hair. “How much are they?”
“You can borrow them. Just bring them back next week.” Without waiting for an answer, Gwen placed them in Michelle’s hair. “I wish I could see you with your dress on.” Gwen was cheerful. Unguarded. Tara remembered when she used to be that way. Before people like Michelle taught her better.
That evening, Tara locked the door after the last client left.
“Ha! You may say I’m a slave driver, but look at this.” Earline held up the bank deposit, her painted-on eyebrows arched high. “We broke a record today. What d’ya say to that?” She slapped the wad against her palm several times.
“A lunch break would’ve been nice.” Tara rubbed her neck.
“Lunch,” Earline snorted. “You’ll be able to pay your utility bill or fix your car with the money you made today.”
“Maybe it will cover my utility bill, but it won’t come close to paying for my car repairs.” Her heart sank as she remembered her car. And Sal’s unanswered messages.
“Honey, I guarantee Sal will make you a deal,” Earline said. “He’s in love with you.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Sal’s in love with himself.”
“Well, you can use that to your advantage. All you need to do is—”
“Don’t even go there.” Tara cleaned the display case. “He runs the only auto shop in town. You know how it works. He can charge whatever he wants and take as long as he likes. I have classes in Reno several times a week. I can’t go without my car.”
“What do you mean, I know how it works?” Earline snapped.
Tara turned toward her boss. Saw her narrowed eyes. “I ... I just meant that—”
Earline stepped closer. “Look, I run a smooth operation here and no one gets bilked.”
“Sal isn’t honest,” Gwen chimed in. “He does whatever he can get away with.”
Tara threw Gwen a grateful look.
“Last month he told me it would take a week to get my car fixed,” Gwen continued. “After my uncle stopped in and talked to him, Sal got it done in two days. He’s a pig.”
“Well he sure doesn’t look like one.” Earline waved the deposit in the air. “I’ll tell you what—” She gave Tara a pointed look. “You two would make a beautiful couple. And adorable babies.”
Tara stifled a groan. The idea of making anything with Sal—especially babies—turned her stomach.
Earline gave a hearty laugh and headed for the door. She stopped suddenly, turning around. “Oh. I meant to tell you girls I ordered some new equipment. A shaving chair and all the accoutrements for a real barber shop. Upscale, though. No more ten-dollar shaves. It’ll arrive next week and I have someone coming to train you. I’m going to place ads to draw in more tourists. It’s time we upped the ante around here.” Earline waggled her brows and slipped out the door.
Tara trudged to the supply room and collapsed onto a chair. It puzzled her that Earline couldn’t see Sal’s snake-like qualities. Given her remark about how Tara could use Sal’s self-infatuation to her advantage, perhaps her boss simply chose to look past it. In any case, it wouldn’t help to argue. Tara needed this job until she secured her first nursing position. Student loans covered books and tuition, but no living expenses. She’d depleted her savings two months before. Grandpa Henry had cautioned her not to get in over her head. She was alone with no safety net, a precarious juggling act on a part-time hair-dresser’s income. Tara put her head in her hands. How much would a new starter for an old Ford Taurus cost?
Gwen peeked through the curtain. “Is it safe to come in?”
“As long as you don’t talk about Sal. Here.” Tara got to her feet and thrust the inventory log and a pencil toward Gwen. “Every day we update this list of what we need to order from the beauty supply. We get free delivery on large orders. It makes Earline happy if we can work it so she gets the discount.”
Gwen picked up where Tara left off, asking questions as she went along.
“You did a great job today,” Tara said, when they finished. “All of your clients left happy.” She swallowed her pride. “And I was impressed by how you dealt with Michelle. I get so flustered by her. You’ll make a great manager.”
“Seems like you two have history.”
“Yeah.” Tara sighed.
“What’s the story?”
“We were friends for a few minutes on the first day of our sophomore year of high school.”
Gwen’s brows shot up. “What happened?”
“Sal asked me out. In front of Michelle.”
“Was he her boyfriend?” Gwen tidied a shelf.
“No, but everyone knew she liked him. Thing is, I didn’t even go out with him.”
“Then why was she mad at you?”
“One of life’s unsolved mysteries.” Tara placed a pile of dirty towels in the hamper. “She’s had it in for me since then so I try to steer clear.” Tara sighed. “My feet are killing me.”
“Sit down a minute.” Gwen reached for a chair.
“I won’t be able to get back up. Besides, we’re all done.” Tara exited the storage room with Gwen on her heels. “You can take off.”
Gwen smothered a yawn “Okay. See ya later.” She headed out.
It was seven-thirty when Tara left. “A twelve-hour day with no breaks,” she grumbled to the empty room. A loud noise from her stomach interrupted her fantasy about a hot bubble bath and a good book. Of course, she usually fell asleep and dropped her book in the water. Keys in hand, she flipped the “OPEN” sign over and locked up. Then she remembered she had to walk home. Ugh.
Tara stopped by Sal’s shop. He wasn’t there, but her car had been moved inside. Was there a chance he could fix it in time for her to get to school on Monday?