Switching gears, she moved on to a mental review of her current To-Do list instead.
The round-up of things waiting for her when she got home—pay bills, do laundry, buy some real food that wasn’t a frozen meal—streamed through her head. Mindlessly, with rote repetition that had become familiar over the past months since getting the job, Tessa went back in with the broom to grab the single shorn lock of hair that had escaped the first sweep.
Unfortunately, Tessa’s timing was perfectly imperfect. She swooped in with the broom at the same time Janelle, the stylist who worked part-time for Ruby, pivoted. Janelle’s single step landed her high heel right on the broom. The stylist had to grab the back of the barber chair where Red sat to keep from toppling off those spikes she insisted on wearing to work each shift.
The mishap earned Tessa a glare from Janelle.
With a quick glance at her boss Ruby who was working on Mrs. Sinclair, Tessa said, “Sorry, sorry. I’ll just, uh, get that later.”
Tessa bore the full weight of the blame and guilt for almost tripping the stylist. Even though, technically, it would be much safer and infinitely more practical for Janelle to wear different—meaning flat, supportive, less stripper-like—footwear while working. Then maybe Janelle wouldn’t be in danger of falling over from one little broom encounter.
One sharp raise of a brow was the stylist’s only response to the apology.
Tessa didn’t wait around for more. She took her broom and swept her way toward the back and to the dustpan and garbage pail, where she deposited the sweepings.
“Tessa!”
The sound of her name had Tessa whipping up her gaze to find her boss’s eyes focused on her.
Uh-oh. Was she about to be fired? For making one little mistake?
Ugh. She needed this crappy part-time gig, even if it wasn’t a great job. Definitely not a career-making or breaking position, but it was perfect for her right now.
She needed the money. Not great money, but money that enabled her to be able to live until she finished her thesis and then found her dream job.
Broom handle clutched in her white knuckles, Tessa swallowed hard and then said, “Yes, Ruby?”
“Can you come over here, please?”
“Oh, um, okay. Yeah. Sure.”
She moved closer, glancing at the floor at her boss’s feet. It was already hair-free so needing Tessa to clean up wasn’t the reason for the summons.Crud.
“Did you need me to do something for you?” she asked, hoping this was a request for her to replenish the hairspray or something.
“Not for me, but perhaps there is something you can do for Mrs. Sinclair.” Ruby’s smile looked almost devilish as she tipped her head toward the older woman in the chair.
Judging by the foil strips that adorned Mrs. Sinclair’s head, it looked like she’d opted for highlights too, just like Red, along with getting her roots dyed today.
For a person who didn’t even own a hairdryer and had resorted to using dish soap on her hair when she’d run out of shampoo, that Tessa knew all about highlights now was not a good thing. It was a glaring indication she’d been spending too much time here at her part-time job rather than on her thesis—the one thing upon which her entire future rested.
But it couldn’t be helped. Money made the world go round, whether you had it or did not. And right now she was in thenotcategory.
She forced her gaze off the halo of foil that formed a kind of surreal futuristic hairdo and focused on Mrs. Sinclair’s face. “Hi. What can I do for you?”
They’d probably send her down the block to the diner for coffee or a pastry. Which would be good actually. She’d forgotten breakfast this morning and besides the mints in the bowl on the register there was nothing for her to eat here.
“I can’t ask her...” Mrs. Sinclair began, breaking eye contact to glance from Red to Ruby.
“Yes, you can,” Ruby countered.
“Youhaveto,” Red agreed with feeling.
Tessa knew she had a habit of living in her own head and not listening when others spoke, but this conversation captured and kept her attention. How could it not? The discussion, andthis mysterious question or request Mrs. Sinclair couldn’t bring herself to ask, was apparently all about her.
The question was, why? What was this about?
Whatever it was, Tessa didn’t see that she had much choice in the matter. Her boss seemed all in favor of it.
