“Can I help you?” a beautiful woman with long, almost-white blonde hair asks when I get to the front desk.
“I’m here to see Frankie,” I say softly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. The salon I worked at back home wasn’t even half as nice as this one, and the women I worked with were much older. I’m not sure how I will get along with women my own age.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes, I’m Ellie. Lilly sent me,” I say, and her face goes soft, seeming to make her even more beautiful.
“I’m Kimberly, but everyone calls me Kim. It’s nice to meet you. Frankie’s with someone right now, but if you give him five, he’ll be done.”
“No problem.” I smile, taking a seat on the couch.
“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” she says, catching me off guard. “Frankie filled us in on what went down, and then I saw the news report. I hope they catch the other guy. Have you heard anything?”
“Um, no, not yet,” I say, feeling a chill slide over me. I don’t want to think about him still being alive, or the fact I could still be in danger.
“I’m sure they’ll catch him.”
“I hope so,” I reply then think about Jax, and something deep within me knows he will make certain Hope and I are safe.
“You’re going to love it here. Frankie’s the best, and Mickey, Ian, and Kendal are all really great too.”
“Have you been here long?” I ask, jumping on her change of subject.
“I just moved into town a month ago, and this was the first place I stopped.” She shrugs, but I still catch something flash through her eyes before its gone.
“Are you a stylist?”
“Yep, and we all work the front desk between clients, except weekends. Then Becka comes in to help out, ’cause we’re all normally booked.”
“Cool,” I mutter, watching a woman a few years older than me walk toward the front. She’s stunning, with big green eyes that stand out against her dark, almost-black hair and pale skin. Her eyes scan over me and her lip curls up at the corner, not a smile, but like she smells something bad as she flips her hair over her shoulder and turns, dismissing me to face the counter.
“Kim, can you take care of Mellissa for me?” I hear from behind her.
“Of course.” Kim smiles, but it’s nothing like the smile she had on earlier directed at me. I can tell it’s the kind that has been rehearsed.
“Ellie?” Pulling my gaze from Kim, I turn and come face-to-face with a very pretty man wearing jeans and a plain tee. His face is contoured with makeup, his eyebrows sharp, his lashes long, and his lips lined and glossy. Yes, very pretty.
“That’s me.” I smile as he sticks out his hand.
“Frankie. It’s so nice to meet you,” he says, smiling back.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Why don’t we go back to my office and sit down for a few minutes.”
“Sure,” I reply, and he places his hand at the small of my back, leading me through the salon, which I notice has six booths, all clean and tidy with dividers between, offering a little bit of privacy for the stylist and their clients. When we reach his office, he takes a seat in a hot pink chair behind a white desk with a mirrored top. Sitting across from him in one of the two stylish turquois chairs, I cross one leg over the other.
“So, tell me about yourself and your experience,” he asks casually.
Leaning back in the chair, I do just that. I tell him about myself and what has happened to make me move to Tennessee. I tell him about my experience as a stylist and what I want for Hope’s and my future. I tell him everything, and when it’s over, I feel like I have just spent an hour with a psychologist, rather than twenty minutes applying for a job.