Sharp Edges (30 page)

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Authors: K. L. Middleton

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Mystery

BOOK: Sharp Edges
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I pause.

My pulse is racing and I am brimming with desire. I would like nothing more than to take her, right then and there. To claim her as mine and
mine
alone. To destroy anyone who might interfere or stand in the way of our destiny.

But for now…

I think I’ll just settle for a trim.

 

Chapter One

 

 

Sinclair

 

 

 

 

“Have you heard the news, yet?” asked Tiffany.

We were in the back of the salon, mixing hair-color.

“What news?” I asked, trying to brush a loose strand of hair away from my eyes without getting any powder in them.

“Judy sold the shop.”

I looked at her in horror. “What? When?”

“I guess the deal was finalized last night. She sold it to some guy from L.A.”

“So, are we getting shut down?”

“No. Nothing’s changing but the ownership. She sold it to one of her friend’s son’s, so that she could retire.”

I heaved a sigh of relief. “Jesus, you scared the hell out of me. I don’t know what I’d do if
Tangled
was shut down.”

“Me neither. Anyway, I cannot
wait
to meet the owner,” gushed the pretty nineteen-year-old. “Judy says he’s freaken’ hot and that we’re all going to love him. He’ll be here on Monday.”

“Huh,” I said, stirring the color. It would be nice having another guy in the shop. I wondered if he knew anything about hair, or if he was gay. Many times, they went hand in hand.

“Is
that
the color your customer wants?” she asked, pointing to the swatch I was examining. “That’s going to be quite a change for her.”

I stared at the bright red lock and nodded. “I’ve tried talking her out of it, but she keeps insisting.”

Tiffany picked up her bowl of color and turned to leave. “Well, good luck with that.”

I snorted. “I need more than luck.”

My customer, Mrs. Lancaster, was a thick-jowled, heavy-set lady in her fifties; a woman who was normally very conservative. Today, she’d brought in a picture of a twenty-something celebrity who had long, vibrant red hair, and wanted
that
same color. Unfortunately, on Mrs. Lancaster, it was going to look like a crime scene.

“Okay,” I said, after returning to my station. “You’re certain that this is
the
color?” I asked, holding out the bright color strands. 

“Yes, dear,” she said, touching the sample, lovingly, between her fingers. “I want that
exact
color. I know it’s going to be just lovely.”

I forced a smile. “Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

“Oh, no…oh no you did not just do that!” hollered Felicia, from across the salon.

I turned around and stared at the little old man sitting in Felicia’s chair, a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh, my God,” apologized a well-to-do older woman, sitting in a chair beside them. “I am so sorry. Henry! You have to behave yourself!”

“No,
I’m
sorry,” said Felicia, setting down the scissors, “I am not cutting this old man’s hair if he’s going put his mouth on me. Hell no.”

It was then that I noticed the front of Felicia’s hot-pink T-shirt, there was a wet spot on her right boob.

“Henry, did you hear that? You have to behave yourself!” scolded the woman. She turned to Felicia. “I am
so
sorry; my brother suffers from Alzheimer’s and doesn’t always know what he’s doing.”

I watched the delight in the old man’s watery, blue eyes and there was no doubt in my mind that he knew
exactly
what he’d done. Felicia was a very top-heavy woman and her breasts sometimes got in the way. She’d even cut my hair once and I was lucky not to walk away with two black eyes.

Felicia picked up her scissors. “Okay, but if he touches me again,” she narrowed her eyes. “I’m
gonna cut more than his hair.”

  “Oh, my Lord,” whispered my customer. “This is better than daytime television.”

I grinned. “You can say that again.”

To me, it was just another day at
Tangled
. I’d seen everything, heard everything, and it was what kept me coming back to work every morning. I loved my job, loved my co-workers, and wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Fortunately, Henry kept his hands and mouth to himself for the rest of his appointment with Felicia, while I finished coloring and styling Mrs. Lancaster’s hair. When it was finished, I turned her back towards the mirror, and held my breath as we stared at the results.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Oh, my God…it looks fabulous!” she beamed.

I sighed with relief. It still looked shockingly bright to me, but if she liked it, that was all that mattered.

“You look like a new woman,” I said, spritzing her hair with hairspray.

She patted the side of her hair, fondly. “Mr. Lancaster’s idea, actually; he has always
adored
red-heads.”

I stared at my own auburn hair in the mirror’s reflection and wondered if he’d meant something a little more subtle.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. “Tell me,” she whispered. “Do you do pubes, as well?”

“Ah, no,” I whispered back. “You’re on your own down there.”

She bit her lower lip. “Oh, shoot. Maybe I’ll just shave it off.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but then changed my mind. I certainly did not want to continue this conversation.

After she’d paid and left, I rushed to clean my station. I had the weekend off and was going to be spending it on Huntington Beach. I still had a lot of packing to do before the trip and couldn’t wait to get started. It was the first time I’d had a weekend off in months.

“At least that old geezer gave me a decent tip,” declared Felicia, holding up a stack of bills.

“I still can’t believe he did that,” giggled Tiffany. “What a crazy, old coot!”

She nodded. “The worst thing is
, I haven’t had
that
much action for almost two months. And then, to get my titty sucked by a toothless, old, white man?” she clapped her hands and laughed heartily.  “Lord, have mercy!”

“Two months?” I snorted. “That’s nothing. It’s been over a
year
for me.”

Her eyes widened.
“A year? Girl, next time Henry makes an appointment, we’ll make sure
you
get him.”

 

***

 

 

“This is never going to work,” I told my friend, Jesse, as I slid into his Jag a couple of hours later. “Trust me, we will
never
fool anyone.”

He reached over and patted my knee-cap. “Sweetie, it
will
work. It
has
to work.”

I pulled my hair back behind my ears. “Then you’d better stop calling me ‘sweetie’ and quit primping yourself, every five minutes. You’ll never fool your father if you keep acting like a princess.”

Jesse threw his perfectly chiseled face back and laughed. Then he stopped, abruptly, and gave me one of his famous, venomous looks.

I smiled. “Hey, I’m just saying…”

“God, you’re such a little bitch.”

I shook my head. “No, you’ve claimed
that
title, honey, and I won’t dare try and take it from you.”

Glancing into the rearview mirror, he ran his fingers through the top of his short, blonde highlights, the ones I’d given him last night. “And that’s why you’re my best friend, Sinclair. You know how to sweet-talk me.”

I laughed. “Seriously, though. What were you thinking by inviting me?”

“Well, since it’s their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, they expect me to bring a date- of the
female
persuasion. I certainly can’t bring Alex, Sin; my parents are
assholes
. Both of them. They’d never accept the fact that I’m gay and would no-doubt freeze up my trust fund if they find found out the truth,” he bit one of his finger-nails. “And I know it sounds shallow, but I can’t live without that money.”

I put on my seatbelt. “So, you’re just going to keep lying to them? How long do you propose to do that?”

He started the car and the engine purred to life, like an eighty-thousand-dollar kitty. “As long as it takes, Sin, as long as it takes.”

Forty-minutes later, after listening to him rant about his friends, his job, and his sex life, we finally pulled up to his parent’s summer home on Huntington Beach, a luxurious oceanfront property that took my breath away.

“Wow,” I breathed, staring at the white, massive structure that screamed “wealth”, “power” and “eat your heart out, losers”.

“I know,” sneered Jesse. “They’re disgustingly rich- fortunately for me. But it’s also
old
money and even
older
ideals-
not
fortunate for me.”

I’d only known Jesse for eight months, ever since he’d walked into
Tangled.
From the moment he’d plopped his Armani-clad butt in my chair, we’d clicked and I’d became his personal stylist and he- one of my very best friends.

“So, what exactly did you tell them about me?” I asked, feeling nervous now that we were actually going through with it.

The ruse had sounded like fun at the time- a weekend of parties, celebrities, and a chance to escape my own hum-drum life. It had been almost a year since I’d found my ex’ fiancé in bed with another woman and I’d basically taken on the habits of a hermit, soon afterwards. My life now consisted of work, taking care of my finicky black cat, Felix, and reading trashy, romance novels. It was boring and sometimes lonely, but safe, which was what I needed after having my heart crushed by Shawn.

Jesse
unwrapped a peace of gum and stuck it into his mouth. “Okay, so you and I have been dating on and off for the last six months. Nothing serious yet.”

I raised my eyebrows.
“Yet?”

“Well, I mean we’ve fucked and everything,” he said, snapping his gum, a little too obnoxiously for a twenty-four-year-old.

I feigned a look of shock. “We have? Was it good?”

He puffed out his chest. “Damn right. That’s why you won’t leave me alone, you crazy, horny, bitch.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Oh brother, you’re so freaken’ arrogant.”

He blanched. “Arrogant?
Gawd…I
hate
that word.”

I stared at him and wondered how in the world his parents could think he was anything
but
gay.

“Well, you might want to pretend to be ‘arrogant’. That’s a trait you’ll find on a lot of manly, men,” I said, deepening my voice.

“Sin, I’ve
never
been a
manly
man and my parents have known me all of my life. They just think I’m a very creative and outgoing guy.”

I understood that because Jesse really is very creative. He’s a graphic designer, which hadn’t particularly sat well with his parents. They’d wanted him to become a doctor or lawyer, like his older brother Reed, who I’d had yet to meet. Supposedly, Reed
was
an arrogant, cocky lawyer who had little time for his younger brother.

“So, you get to act natural while I’m the one who has to be totally enthralled by you?”

He smiled. “Oh, come on. It can’t be that difficult. You know you’d ‘do me’ if I was straight.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, here we go…”

“What? I’d probably ‘do you

if I was straight.”

“Enough,” I said, raising my hand. 

He sighed. “Sinclair, you really need to work on your self-confidence. I know it’s hard because of what fuck-head did to you, but you really need to get over it. I mean, you’re attractive, funny, and have crazy skills when it comes to hair. You’re an awesome catch, girlfriend.”

“Tell it to the straight guys,” I answered, dryly.

“Honey, if they can’t handle a woman who isn’t afraid to speak her mind,” he said, “then they certainly don’t deserve you.”

Jesse was being kind. The fact was that I had a little bit of a temper and sometimes didn’t know when to keep my mouth shut- which, come to think of it, was a trait we both shared. After I’d caught Shawn cheating and kicked him out of our apartment, I’d vowed to never let anyone manipulate or take advantage of me, ever
again. So now, if I didn’t agree with something someone said, I let them know it or if I felt threatened in any way, I usually pounced first. Surprisingly, it sat well with my customers, because they kept coming back and asking
me
for advice. Even Jesse had laid his problems out for me; which lead to where I was now; his newest partner in crime.

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