The Beauty Within (3 page)

“You barely touched your salad!”

Kaci fluttered her eyelashes and ran her hands along her curves. “I’ve got to

keep my figure right, you know. Don’t you like it?”

“It’s lovely.”

“Gunnie!” Kaci said, her pout even more pronounced.

He
hated
it when she called him that, but he was too indifferent to correct

her this time. After this date, they would be off permanently. He was never so

hard up for sex he would settle for anything. Then again, when he and Kaci had

first gotten together six months ago, he’d been extremely inebriated, but that

was neither here nor there.

Kaci put down the spoon and sashayed off towards the restrooms, taking

the majority of the male attention with her, and Gunnar shoved his arms into

his jacket. He could catch up on his expense reports and updating his orders

for new equipment…maybe shore up enough courage to go apologize to Ms.

Carver.

His pride kept him as far away as possible, however, and he breathed a re-

lieved sigh when Kaci sauntered back.

She chattered unceasingly as he drove her back to her apartment complex,

his headache mounting with every syllable she spoke. When he reached her

complex, he debated whether or not to just drop her off; but he’d already

fulfilled his jerk quota for the day, so he walked her to her door.

“You wanna come inside?” Kaci asked, playing with the lapels of his leather

jacket.

He took her hand and removed it before stepping back. “I don’t think that’s

such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

The Beauty Within

15

“Because…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think we should see

each other anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Things just…can’t work out between us. Every

time we’ve tried it’s ended in disaster.”

It was her turn to shrug, her breasts pulling tight against her blouse.

Though it was barely fifty degrees outside she hadn’t bothered with a jacket.

“How about one last go for the road?”

“I’d rather not.”

Kaci sniffed. “Hmm. I guess Sheila was right. You’re gay. That’s funny,

though, because my gaydar is usually spot on…”

Gunnar laughed, unable to help himself. “Whatever helps you sleep at

night.”

“It could’ve been with me if you were smart, but you’re not. Toodles!”

Kaci entered her apartment and slammed the door in his face. It was just as

well. She took this “break up” a little too breezily for his liking. She probably

had some poor dude’s phone number and was calling him to come over right

now.

“Whatever,” Gunnar muttered, going back to his Jeep. He could do better

than Kaci anyway.

He refused to think he’d just
met
“better than Kaci” too.

Two

“Yo…you gotta apologize, man. I do
not
like being on the receiving end of a

Tyler Carver cuss-out!”

Gunnar chuckled, going over the schedule for the classes he would be

teaching for the rest of the week. It was Wednesday, the first day Damon had

been back for work because of the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday that Mon-

day and the fact he had Tuesdays off. Gunnar felt really bad for getting his

employee-turned-friend in trouble; and though he’d admitted to himself he

would have to apologize, doing so in person?…not so much.

“I can’t just send her a card—?”

“How the hell you gonna apologize to a
black
woman with a card! You gotta

be a man and show your face! And given the way you treated her, I’d borrow

some kneepads ’cause you gon’ do some
serious
grovelin’, Son!”

Gunnar rolled his eyes. Damon certainly had a flair for hyperbole. “I don’t

know where she is, Damon, and since I doubt she’ll be coming back here

anytime soon, I don’t see how that will happen.”

“Go to Soul Cuts. She works there. Hell, her info is even on her contact

sheet. Next try.”

Gunnar gnashed his teeth but said nothing. He really had no excuse not to

apologize now. He would make it quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Maybe

the instant attraction he’d felt for her would be gone since there would be no

shock at the sight of her anymore.

Yes…that sounded good.

For the rest of the day Gunnar was distracted, especially since Damon kept

dropping none-too-subtle hints about making his apology. He also tried to tell

Gunnar the sooner he apologized the better, but Gunnar had gotten caught up

on the phone with one of his equipment suppliers so the lunch date to Soul

Cuts had been postponed until after work.

The Beauty Within

17

Damon even threatened to follow him just to make sure he went, but Gun-

nar threatened to revoke his free Tuesdays if he did such a thing. “I’m not a

preschooler!”

“You damn sure sulk like one!” Damon shot back.

Gunnar groaned and for the second time in a week, dreaded the end of the

workday.

On Gunnar’s way out, Damon shook a fist at him, and though Gunnar

knew the other man was kidding, he really didn’t want to call Damon’s bluff.

He hopped into his Jeep and made the twenty-minute drive across town to the

black section, not the least bit intimidated by that as opposed to the woman he

was to meet.

It was dark by the time he pulled onto the street where Tyler’s business

was. Her space was tucked between a Laundromat and a knickknacks store.

He peaked inside to see it was empty, but the lights were on, and he tested the

door.

It was unlocked.

Taking a deep breath, Gunnar opened the door and stepped inside. “Hel-

lo?”

“I’ll be right with you!”

Gunnar stood and listened to grunting, crashing, and cursing. He bit his lip

to keep from grinning, and a magazine for black hairstyles caught his interest.

Intrigued by the photos, he picked up the magazine and began flipping

through it, sitting in one of the plastic chairs along the wall as he waited for

the shop’s proprietor.

Of course, the one set of clippers Tyler needed would be all the way in the

back of the junk she had in her storeroom. She had intended to straighten

things out over the long weekend; but laziness had bitten her hard, and the

sudden cold snap had her less inclined to go out when it wasn’t necessary.

Once she got purchase on the clippers—brand new and top-of-the-line—Tyler

blew out a breath and ignored the boxes and magazines that had fallen from

their precarious stacks to the ground. The next time she asked Damon and

Wendy to help her “organize”, she would make a “do not touch” pile so she

could find her important things better.

Shaking the unopened clippers in victory, she walked out of the storeroom,

barely sparing her walk-in a glance. “I’m sorry for the wait. What can I do for

you?”

“Um…accept my apology?”

Her head snapped up and she whirled towards the sound of the voice.

What was
he
doing here? And why did he still look suave and fine even as he

flipped through her
Black Hair
magazine?

18

Savannah J. Frierson

Damon had said he would get his boss—Gunnar, what kind of a name was

Gunnar
?—to apologize for his behavior, but she hadn’t believed he would come.

Gunnar was the employer, Damon the employee, and no matter how protective

Damon was of Wendy and her, Damon couldn’t make his superior do what he

wanted him to do. Besides, Tyler would get over it. She’d gotten over worse

insults.

She shook her head and crossed her arms underneath her breasts. “What

apology? I ain’t hear an apology.”

He grinned then, still flipping through the magazine. He seemed very cap-

tivated by what he saw, and Tyler pursed her lips to keep from chuckling at

him. He used his forefinger to hold his page and he looked up at her. Those

gray eyes lanced right through her, and she fidgeted imperceptibly.

“I’m waiting.”

He smirked slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Sorry for what?”

“Being rude. I was having a bad day and I took it out on you. I apologize.”

He sounded sincere enough, but it was hard to forget what he said, espe-

cially given the rather large grain of truth to it. “Apology accepted. Now you

don’t have to worry about Damon punching you in the nose.”

Gunnar chuckled out right then and shook his head. “I know how to bob

and weave.”

Tyler’s eyes skipped to his arms and she shook her head. She was sure he

knew how to do more than that too. “Right.”

She grabbed a broom and began sweeping the hair and other debris from

the floor. She felt those eyes on her and became self-conscious. Why did she

wish she wore something more alluring than her ratty black smock? It wasn’t

as if what was underneath was much better—a long-sleeved tee and old

jeans—but usually she didn’t come to work to impress people, especially not

on slow Wednesdays.

Yet there he remained throughout her chore, watching, studying, arousing

her to the point she wanted to kick him out. She already knew he found her

borderline repulsive. Hadn’t he done what he came here to do?

“Can you cut my hair?”

Gunnar was just as surprised as she was by the question. She’d looked at

him as if he’d suddenly taken leave of his senses, and he ran a hand through his

hair to tamp down his embarrassment. He needed one, anyway, and what

better way to make up for his rude behavior than to give her business? Hair

was hair after all, even if his was European instead of African. He thought she

would be able to do a good job. Damon’s hair always looked great after a cut,

after all.

“
You
want
me
to do
your
hair?”

“Yes.”

The Beauty Within

19

“You know this is a
black
barbershop, right?”

He shrugged. “I know you get mostly
black
customers, but I doubt this is a

black
barbershop.”

“Not many white people make the drive to this part of town unless they

want soul food,” Tyler said frankly. Gunnar pinked a little. He rarely came to

this side of Durham himself.

“You’re not doing this to sue me if you get a craptastic haircut, are you?”

He laughed. “Craptastic!”

“Yes! You pullin’ my leg, ain’t you?”

Arching an eyebrow, he shrugged out of his leather jacket, walked slowly

to her, turned her chair, and sat in it. “You’re far too professional to botch a job.

I trust you.”

She looked shocked at that confession. “You do?”

“Yes. The fact you so succinctly put me in my place
and
the fact Damon

speaks so highly of you tells me you are a trustworthy person. So…have at it.

I’m at your mercy.”

Those brown eyes met his cautiously in the mirror. He grinned at her.

“This is your last chance to back out,” she warned.

“You scared?”

Her nostrils flared. Gunnar remembered them doing that during the ses-

sion when he issued a challenge. He knew Tyler was definitely up to meet it.

“Would you like a wash too?” she asked politely though he knew she was

annoyed.

“I’ve already washed my hair in the shower, but thanks for asking.”

Tyler rolled her eyes, but she took a spray bottle from her cart and began

misting his hair to dampen it. His brown hair turned darker and the cool

sensation relaxed him. When her fingers began combing through his hair he

almost purred. She had a gentle, skillful touch, and he glanced at her face

through the mirror. She was all professionalism now, and she looked very sexy

that way.

He never realized the scalp could be such an erogenous zone, but between

her body brushing against his head, her tender fingers, and the calming snap of

the shears, Gunnar’s body was working to a fevered pitch. He gripped the

handles of his chair to keep from squirming.

“Am I making you that nervous?” Tyler asked with a bit of an edge.

“No…I actually have to go to the bathroom,” he said sheepishly.

Tyler’s eyes went wide in surprise, and she ducked her head to hide the

grin he saw anyway. “Go straight through that door to the back. It’s the door

on your left.”

Gunnar walked quickly there, and once he was inside, he locked the door

and sagged heavily against it. The pressure in his jeans was too much, and he

unzipped them to relieve it. Did the woman have any idea how enticing she

was? He’d never gotten so aroused from a haircut, and he’d had females cut his

20

Savannah J. Frierson

hair before. No, this reaction was solely Tyler’s and he was at a loss on how to

control himself.

Refusing to jack off, Gunnar took a series of deep breaths and went to the

sink. He could do this…he had to…she wasn’t done with his haircut yet! He

thought of numerous unpleasant things—at the fore of his mind was the last

date he’d had with Kaci—and Gunnar finally felt fit to go back out there. He

zipped up his pants, washed his hands, and splashed water on his face, drying

it with a paper towel afterwards. When he went back into the shop, Tyler was

cleaning out one of her clippers.