Just My Style

By five in the afternoon, Jai Hathaway is ready to call it a day. He’s been at the salon nine hours already—they don’t open until ten, but he had a delivery scheduled to arrive by eight-thirty, and of course the damn truck didn’t show up until after nine. But it’s Thursday, the one day of the week Blossom stays open late, so he has another three hours until they lock the front door. Then at least an hour cleaning up—sweeping the floor, rinsing out the sinks, straightening the products, and just generally making sure everything is ready to do it all again in the morning.

Some days being his own boss almost isn’t worth the hassle.

Though he didtake an hour lunch, and it’s always nice to sneak away for a bit in the middle of the day. On Thursdays, when they stayed open later, Kiki came in around one, which gave him an excuse to take an extended break. It was the only day they worked together, and Jai made the most of it. He usually scheduled his clients for a busy morning and left himself open for a long, leisurely afternoon.

The problem is when someone cancels, like now, leaving him with nothing to do until closing. Blossom sits on the fringe of Carytown, a bustling shopping strip in downtown Richmond, and neighborhood traffic usually guarantees a few walk-in clients throughout the week. But Jai can’t count on walk-ins to fill the next three hours. Not in mid-February, with below freezing temperatures outside and night already falling. At five in the evening in the summer, yeah, they’ll have a few walk-ins every night of the week, but in the dead of winter? Everyone’s at home, nestled in front of the television, or snuggled up in front of the fireplace, cozy and warm. No one wants to come out into the cold for a haircut or perm or to touch up their color.

Snuggled up with someone sounds great right about now, Jai thinks as he sweeps stray hair off the salon’s hardwood floor. He might not have clients but at least the other stylists are busy, and his business partner Kiki sits at the front desk, phone against her ear, as she types a new appointment into the computer. If he had a boyfriend to snuggle with, Jai wouldn’t be working twelve-hour shifts—he’d sleep in late, cuddling in bed with his lover, letting Kiki come in early to deal with the delivery trucks and stay late to lock up.

If I had a guy, I wouldn’t work all the damn time,he thinks, but how am I supposed to meet anyone if I’m always here? It’s a catch-22. Unless I go out with one of my clients but God, I’m not that desperate

Jai likes his clients well enough, but there aren’t any he really wants to date. Part of the reason is most of his clients are women. For some reason, the girls love him. He does the best updos in the salon, hands down, and he always gets the right shade when he colors a client’s hair, always. And he can cut curly hair like nobody else—even Kiki won’t let any other stylist touch her hair but him.

Which is why he can’t understand how all the others have full schedules on a Thursday night and he’s left sweeping the floor like a fucking intern when he owns the damn place!

Calm down,he tells himself. So you have some downtime, so what? Put it to good use. Clean up now and we won’t be here half the night.

But he can only drag the broom across the floorboards so many times before it gets old. He’d rinse out the sinks, but why bother? They’ll just get dirty again before the salon closes. He straightens his vanity, which takes all of two minutes, because he’s neat by nature, then flops down in the chair in front of his mirror and frowns at his reflection. Looking beyond himself, Jai watches the other stylists work for a while—Kimmy is in the middle of a perm, and Saundra has on a pair of gloves as she paints highlights into already bleached hair. Kiki is still at the computer but now off the phone; Jai sees her flip from the appointment screen to a browser window, where her Facebook page is already open. He glances above her to the clock on the wall.

Two and a half more hours to go. Jesus

He looks back at his reflection and frowns. His skin is too pale, his cheeks and forehead slightly chapped from the cold. His brows need to be groomed; he should probably wax them while he has a free moment. He could use a shave, too. When did he get so grizzly? And his dark hair is getting a bit unruly along his nape…owner of a posh salon and he can’t even bother to keep up his own appearance? No wonder he’s alone. But really, when has he had the time?

I have it now.