Chapter 9

< With Jon seated at my station, I combed through his hair. There was no more procrastinating; I had to cape him otherwise he’d be itchy. Now, don’t get me wrong, I SO wouldn’t mind sponging him down later to get the stray hair clippings off him, but I’ve been there, and it’s annoying. So, I caped him. I sectioned off his hair and hesitated.

“What’s wrong, Diana?” he asked when I didn’t start snipping.

“It’s just,” God, how do I say this without sounding like an idiot? “I’m really nervous about doing your hair.” There, I said it. It wasn’t too hard, I guess.

Jon laughed at that. “Don’t think so hard about it, just do it.”

I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath, trying to get myself under control. When I opened my eyes, I grinned. “OK, here we go.” After that, it was easy. He didn’t wince or otherwise discourage me, so I went with what I liked. I trimmed a little around the front, so it would stay out of his eyes. I thinned out the layers some, and took just a hair (ha ha) off the length in the back, neatening it up. Once I was satisfied, I rubbed a little product into my hands and put it through his hair, standing in front of him to do it. I was in autopilot mode now, moving shanks of hair this way and that, and didn’t notice right away the wide smile on his face.

“What’re you smiling at, Jersey?”

“You are just so, I don’t know, into this,” he teased. “It’s like you’re somewhere else. You don’t even know I’m here.” He sighed. “I don’t think I’m explaining it right.”

“And you make your living with words? Hah,” I teased back at him, whipping the cape from him and exposing that marvelous chest again. I was close to drooling, and nearly forgot what I was going to say. “Of course I’m into this. I’m good at my job, I love it, and it shows.” I considered the half-dressed man in front of me. Really looked into his face, and saw something there. Do I go there? Yep. “Kinda like this guy I met recently.” I dared him to pick up the thread of the conversation.

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “A guy, huh? What’s he like?”

I smiled. “Well, I’ve just met him, so I don’t know him all that well. But, what I gathered so far is that he’s basically a regular guy, funny and cute, with a very visible job that he does exceptionally well. He loves his job, but lets it consume him sometimes. Not that that’s a bad thing,” I hastened to add when small frown lines formed between his eyebrows. “But I think he forgot how to just relax and have fun. That’s why I’m glad I met him when I did.”

“Oh really?” he said, a wary smile on his face.

“Yeah, really.” I started to answer, but picked up the hair dryer instead. The look on his face was priceless. I dried his hair for him, arranging it just so, and doing a damn fine job of it too, I might add. As I was standing behind him, making adjustments, Jon cleared his throat.

“Are you forgetting something?” he asked, clearly waiting for me to continue the explanation I had started.

I smiled at him. “Oh! You came for a shave, too! Hang on a sec.”

Before he could react, I patted his shoulder and went in the back. His chuckles followed me while I went to warm up the shaving cream and to grab a hot towel and my straight razor. I told you I did it the old fashioned way. I actually had a strop tied to my chair that I used when I was feeling dramatic. I think I was feeling dramatic tonight.

“Alright,” I said, as I came out from the back. “Are you ready for – ” I broke off, watching him, and my stomach dropped. He was standing in front of my mirror, turning his head this way and that, trying to look at the cut I gave him. “Is there something, wrong? I can fix whatever it is you don’t like.”

Jon turned quickly; I guess I startled him. “No, Brooklyn, nothing’s wrong at all. I’m just trying to get a good look at your handiwork.” I put down my supplies and handed him a small mirror and turned him by the shoulders so his back was to the big mirror. He nodded at what he saw, sifting his fingers through his hair. Putting the mirror down, he leaned against the counter, crossed is ankles, and crossed his arms across his chest. Kinda wish I had a camera, you know? “You, my dear, have a permanent job with me if you want it,” he said to me. “I mean it. I can’t remember the last time I actually liked the haircut I got.” He smiled. “And the others could use a trim, too; they’re getting pretty scruffy.”

I laughed at that. “Thanks, Jersey, but I like being my own boss.” What? What did I just say? I think I just turned him down. Never thought that would happen – never in a million years. “Tell ya what, though; anytime you want a trim, give me a call. I’ll leave Thursday nights open for you. Hell, I’ll make room for you any damn night of the week.” I considered him for a minute. “The others, well, they’ll have to make appointments. Not everyone gets, um, shall I say special treatment?”

He looked surprised that I turned him down, but smiled at me. “Alright, D, you have yourself a deal. I’ll tell the guys.´ Jesus, he was serious. “Now,” he said, “how’s about that shave?” He opened his arms, inviting me in. “I’m thinking hot lather would be,” he nuzzled my neck and dropped his voice to a husky whisper, “just the thing.” He kissed my neck, nipping at it gently.

Gulp. He’s good at this. “Have a seat, Jon, and I’ll see what I can do.”