“I can’t take you serious. He is easy on the eyes, and I like, he doesn’t wear his age like Drish. Lue is older than both of them, but Rocco looks it.”
“Wait a minute ‘cause I thought he was grown. How old is he?” Nubia whispered, inspecting Rocco for signs of being younger than she had assumed.
Hisholding something heavy between his legsgait, stocky frame, and thick beard surrounding full lips that he licked while heading toward them gave her no indication of him being a baby.
“He’s not as young as Drish, but he’s younger than you. Twenty-five.”
“Damn, he pulled a Tekken on me. I just knew he was about Relic’s age.”
“Drish is the one that recruited him, so I could’ve told you, he’s not that old. I don’t know much else about him, to be honest. He doesn’t say much.”
“And that’s fine. I’ll get all the information I need out of his ass. Hey, Rocco!” Nubia cooed, waving as he neared them. Kennedy stifled a laugh. “You pulled up just in time ‘cause my stomach is in my back. We appreciate you.”
“No problem.” He handed her a plastic bag and then Kennedy, who frowned.
“You didn’t get yourself anything?”
“Yea, it’s in the car.”
“Don’t eat that in your truck! It’ll smell fishy for days. You can eat in the suite with me,” Nubia offered, putting on her best smile.
“Then, you’ll have your suite smelling like seafood.”
“These bitches smell like fish when they get here. We ain’t hurting nothing.”
Rocco chuckled and then rubbed the back of his neck in contemplation before nodding. “Aight. Let me grab my food. I’ll be in there.”
“Wrong answer, buddy,” Kennedy muttered as soon as he jogged off, and Nubia squealed a laugh.
“Don’t do that, Kenn!”
“Look, I’m just trying to warn the man, but let me go. When Los finds out, I didn’t know shit, ain’t seen shit, and haven’t heard shit. Bye!”
Kennedy flung open her salon door, and her friend’s animated laughter faded out while idle chatter replaced it as she stepped inside. She could tell from the finger snaps, chide pointing, and chair twirls that the salon had shifted into gossip mode while she was gone. Ryell closing a book before she reached beneath her pressed hair, switching on her hearing devices, alerted Kennedy that her assumption was on point.
“Hey, Ms. Kennedy. Your two o’clock called to cancel her appointment, so you’re free for the rest of the day. She said, she tried to call your phone first, but you didn’t pick up.”
“Girl, she’s lying. My phone is right here in my purse. Did she reschedule?”
“Nope, and when I told her I have to charge her card for the late cancellation notice, she started going off. I told her, I’d have you get back to her about it.”
“I’m not getting back to her ‘bout shit. Don’t charge it, but she won’t get approved for another appointment. I tell you that. This is her second time doing that shit, but when I was late, she made sure to ask for her ten percent off.”
“I don’t understand why you even made that a rule,” her stylist, Tammy, gave her unsolicited opinion, as usual. “A bitch can’t even get lunch ‘cause I’m so worried one of my clients gon’ try to use that shit against me.”
“If you leave a block in your schedule for lunch, then that wouldn’t be a problem, would it?”
“I don’t like to eat at the same time every day. Maybe, I want variety.”
“So maybe you want to lose out on money,” Kennedy quipped. She strode to her booth and sat, wasting no time unknotting her food bag before she paused and looked up. “It’s fish. Does anyone mind?”
“No, you’re fine, but I do want to know more about this rule because I’ve never heard of it,” one of the clients said.
Kennedy stuffed a fry in her mouth to hide her smile as every stylist groaned, knowing she was about to blow up their spot. Said rule was on the salon site’s home page, but most clients went through their regular stylist’s site, so they tended to miss it.
“It’s a rule here that if we’re five minutes late, you get five percent off the price. Ten minutes is ten percent, and the same for fifteen.”
The room went into an uproar before a chick with her hair folded into foil for a dye job spun in her chair to glare at her stylist, Porsha.
