She laughed at how serious his question was.
"I mean it."
"No, there are imperfections if you look closely," she said. "I need to replace a couple of the tiles. Also, I have a friend who owns multiple businesses. He has hooked me up with all sorts of tile, so I have a lot of beautiful material to work with. That makes it so easy." She paused the haircut and turned his chair a bit. He glanced at the mosaic woman. Savannah was too humble. This thing was a piece of art.
"Do you sell it?" he asked.
"I haven't yet. Nobody's even asked about the fountain, and I just moved her in here last week," she said, smiling a little. "This stuff starts to crowd my apartment, so I bring it down here. I have four or five pieces in here now, and the fountain was the only one I intentionally made for the space.
"I would buy something if you're willing to sell it," he said. "Or I don't have to. I don't mean to put you on the spot. Is any of it for sale?"
She was sweet and easygoing, and she just smiled, shook her head. "I could show you a few things I've done, but I don't really sell any of it yet. It's just a hobby, and I'm still learning. I could just give you one of my smaller pieces."
Chapter 4
Savannah Rodgers
"What was that?" Bree asked, staring at me with wide eyes and a shocked expression from behind the front desk. My heart was still racing a little from the interaction with my new customer, and I did my best to pretend everything was normal.
"I'm sorry," I said, making sincere eye contact with her.
"You gave away my candy bowl."
"I know. At least he left the candy. And I'll bring something else up here. I have another dish sort of thing we can try there, or I'll just make another one."
"I'm just messing with you. It's your bowl, and you can do whatever you want with it. I'm just surprised you gave it to him. Were you flirting?" She smiled and looked hopeful, and I shook my head.
"Not even close. He just looked like someone I used to know, and he was really nice. He was asking me about my mosaics. Most of my customers aren't that interested."
"They're just scared you're going to quit doing hair. They don't want to encourage you."
I laughed and shook my head.
"Did he give you cash for the haircut?" she asked.
He had indeed given me cash. There was a whole exchange with the bowl where we had to figure out where to put the candy, and in the midst of that, he handed me cash. I told him the bowl was a gift, and yet he still handed me a wad of cash. He said it was for the haircut and tip. There was a hundred-dollar bill showing, and there wasn't just one bill in the stack. I had no idea how much money he had handed me because he was so calm and quick with it. He handed it to me in such a way that I knew he had it prepared in his pocket.
"I'm just going to keep the cash," I said to her, even though I knew she hated that.
Bree was a stickler for having her drawer come out even at the end of her shift, which I appreciated. But it was my salon, and I wasn't going to mess with giving her the cash when I could just keep it in my pocket. She knew I wouldn't question her about it at the end of the day. She was just giving me a hard time because she liked her drawer to be even.
Bree had been the manager and a stylist in Cleveland at the retirement community where I worked. She moved to Pittsburgh and came to work for me when I opened my salon there. She liked being a manager more than doing hair, so it was a perfect move for her. She had been with me long before I first moved and opened the doors eighteen months earlier. She was rock solid. She was with meduring the last three years of my bad relationship in Cleveland, and she was a God-send during the break-up and the move.
"Just mark it a comp," I said.
She still squinted at me.
"It's all… going to be… okay," I said slowly, giving her a hard time for being so meticulous.
"I'm not making a face at that. I'm doing it because you were flirting with that guy."
"I wasn't."
"Please let me get my hopes up. I thought he would be good for you. He was really good-looking."
I gave her a small shrug of my shoulder like I didn't care. "Objectively he was good-looking, but you know that doesn't matter to me. I have other customers who are good-looking."
"Notthatgood looking," she said with wide eyes. "And I'm proud of you," she said. "I’m not giving you a hard time about it. I love it that you're checking him out."
