“Ja.”
“Well, I think it might take you a little longer than that.” She smiled, but she didn’t sound so sure.
“Until our next date,Häschen.”
“Until then, big guy.” She motioned him to come closer then kissed him cross-eyed. “Now sleep on that.”
* * *
Rena spent the next day smiling. Everyone commented on it, but she didn’t care. She’d been so amazingly sexy and take-charge. She liked a playful relationship, but Axel wasn’t the playful type. Yet he seemed to be thawing. He smiled at her a lot, and he talked now.
He’d texted her a good morning with a goofy bunny emoji that made her laugh. Unfortunately, she’d had to tell him that only a wrapper remained outside her shop when she’d arrived that morning. Someone had stolen the present he’d left for her. He hadn’t seemed too bothered, though he promised to leave her gifts (gifts!) inside from now on.
Work passed by in a blur, her friends cheerful and gossiping, sharing the what and who about everyone. Rena loved it.
Tommie broke her train of thought with a customer requesting Rena’s services, so she stopped restocking the bottles on the shelves and met a grungy-looking guy with hard eyes. He had really short, uneven hair that needed help.
“You Rena Jackson?” he rasped.
She didn’t like the way he looked at her, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. He didn’t leer or anything, but she had a weird feeling. “Yes, I’m Rena.”
The man smiled. “I’m Daryl. I was told you’re the go-to person for haircuts.” He rubbed his hand over his shorn scalp, and she saw dirt under his fingernails. “I know it’s short, but it already feels too long to me.”
“Sure. I can fit you in.” She had an appointment in another hour and a half, but his cut wouldn’t take long at all. “Come on over.”
He sat in the back in the chair not occupied by Nicky’s client. Nicky and Martin would chat from the time the guy sat down to the time he left.
Rena draped a cape over Daryl and buttoned it at his nape. She looked up and met his gaze in the mirror. “So, do you know what number they used on you last time? The size guard?” she asked, referring to the size of the guard on the clippers used to shear his head.
“I think a three on top and a one on the sides. I like it short.” He smiled at her. “Kinda like a skinhead.”
His smile wasn’t kind. It creeped her out. But as a businesswoman, she knew she’d have to work with strange people sometimes. “I’m sorry. A skinhead?”
“You know, those white douchebags with the bald heads, all thatHeil Hitlershit?” He chuckled. “I ain’t heil-ing nothing.” He laughed again.
She exchanged a glance with Nicky, and Martin raised a brow, but they kept talking. And since Daryl hadn’t acted as if he too hated anyone darker than his own skin color, she tried to ignore his remarks and reached for her clippers.
She gave as many haircuts to men as to women, so the barbering side of doing hair came naturally. And despite being black in a city dominated by white people, she wasn’t inundated with African American clients. Rena worked on a mix of races, genders, and sexualities. And she liked that.
But sometimes, when a guy like this one showed up, she had to wonder if she had more racist clients than she knew. Because he might not like skinheads, but she had a feeling he didn’t like her either.
“So who told you about me?” she asked as she started at the base of his hairline on his neck and worked her way up.
“Oh, I’ve heard your name a lot. Used to go to Ray’s.”
“That explains it.” She smiled at him in the mirror.
He didn’t smile back, just looked at her. “So, you cut a lot of hair, huh?”
Not a great conversationalist, but she’d roll with it. “Yes. I love it. I like making people look nice and feel better about themselves. Take you, for example.”
“Yeah?” He sounded suspicious.
She continued to work, focused on his hair. “You have a head that’s perfect for this kind of cut. Your shape is round, no need to hide yourself with a lot of hair.”
“Huh. Yeah, I do look good like this.” He started to nod and she stopped him, holding his head straight.
“Sorry. Don’t move. I don’t want to mess up your fade.”
