by Julia Wolf
“So, how did you end up in my bed?” I asked.
His eyes met mine. “You asked me to be there.”
“Would you have fucked anyone who asked you then?”
He shook his head slowly. “You know the answer.”
My heart pounded at the intensity that filled his quiet words. His eyes were on mine, and I felt myself blushing from his gaze. I never blushed, but this guy could make it happen with just a look.
“I can’t believe I’m blushing.” I rubbed my warm cheeks.
“Why?”
“I don’t blush. Ever.”
James regarded me for a moment then reached across the table and ran his thumb over my cheek.
“Just because you say it, it doesn’t make it true, Frannie.”
I laughed and just like that the building tension broke.
“You sound like my mom,” I said with a grin.
He smiled back. “Is your mom where you got your pretty brown eyes?”
My eyebrows shot up. “Wow, that was quite a line. Classic, really.”
His eyes widened and darted frantically. “No, I…”
I brushed his hand with my fingers. “I’m kidding!” Leaning forward, I rested my chin on my hands. “Yeah, I look a lot like her. Same brown eyes and dark hair as all my Mexican family. My older brother got the blond hair and blue eyes from my Irish-Cuban dad. We always joked that it was like they each got their own kid.”
“Are you close with your family?” he asked.
“Not really.” I wasn’t, and I didn’t really like to talk about them. My childhood hadn’t been a happy one and once I was able to leave, I left, gone for good, with just a phone call here or there to my parents. “Well, I kind of like my brother, Rick. But I mostly use him to get to my nieces.”
“How old?”
“They’re four and six. Lydia and Victoria. They’re both into superheroes and soccer, and neither want to dance. I absolutely love that, although I’d give anything to see their cute little pompis in leotards and tutus. It’s cool, though, they’re awesome little girls.”
“Aunt Frannie, huh?”
“Tia Frannie. I’m an amazing tia. I taught them how to play bongos and ply them with candy, not to mention the millions of Legos I’ve given them.”
He chuckled. “How does your brother feel about that?”
“Oh, he loves it.” I rolled my eyes. “He totally deserves it after chopping off all my Barbie’s hair twenty years ago.”
“Sounds like you know how to hold a grudge.”
“I like to bide my time, then strike when they least expect it,” I said with an evil glint to my voice. Then I smiled softly, thinking about my girls. “Plus, isn’t it a tia’s job to give her nieces all the fun things their mean parents won’t?”
James smiled back at me, staring as though I was something he was trying to decipher. Maybe we were both mysteries to each other.
“It’s just you and Ryan, right? No other siblings?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Just the two of us.”
I bit my lip and tried to think of the right question to draw him out. “What kind of uncle do you think you’d be?”
He thought for a long moment, then laughed. “If Ryan’s ever a dad, I think I’ll have to be the mean uncle who never lets the kids have fun things.”
“Oh my god, you’re right. Ryan has never not been fun a day in his life!” We traded smiles for a beat, then I asked, “You guys are close?”
James tilted his head. “We are now. With our age difference, he found me pretty annoying when I was little. I’m sure I was annoying. But I was a weird kid and he was really protective of me.” He watched my face as he added, “He joined the dance company and moved out of the house when I was twelve. For years, the only time I saw him was after his performances.”
“Did you and your parents go to a lot of his shows?” I asked.
He met my eyes and held them. “Whenever the company he danced with performed within a couple hours of home, we always went.” For a reason I couldn’t explain, James watched me with such intensity, I had to look away.
We both got quiet again, picking away at our crabs. I sensed quiet was James’ natural state, whereas I’d never had a thought that didn’t automatically exit my mouth. I’d spent the first twenty years of my life biting my tongue—I was done with that shit.
After picking the tiniest piece of meat out of my crab, I decided once was probably enough for this experience. It just took too much work.
“What’s Frannie short for?” James asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
“Francisca,” I groaned. “Since I could talk, I insisted everyone call me Frannie. My mom is the only one who still calls me Francisca.”
“I like it. Francisca.”
I shivered at the sound of my full name on his lips. I’d never liked it—to me it sounded like a stuffy woman in a country club, so not me—but when he said it, it sounded different. Sexier.
“Are you cold?” he asked, noticing my shiver.
“Just a little.” We’d been outside for a while and it was chilly, but that’s not why I trembled.
“Why don’t we head out then?”
I agreed, and after James paid the bill, we strolled back toward my place. When I checked the time, it surprised me to see we’d been in the restaurant a couple hours. The time we’d spent together had slipped by far too quickly.
James was easy to be with. He wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I thought he’d be moodier, harder to talk to, but he smiled and laughed without hesitation or pretense. As I got to know him, he reminded me more and more of his brother, and I’d always loved being around Ryan.
When we reached my apartment building, we stood quietly smiling at each other for a long moment.
I reached out and tugged his beard playfully. “Today was really fun.”
“It was,” he said as if it surprised him. He’d probably been dreading “the talk.”
I stepped into him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He stiffened slightly, but I just squeezed him a little tighter. I felt him relax after hesitating, and his arms went around my waist, pulling me against him. I rubbed my cheek against his soft beard and played with the back of his shaggy hair. His body fit comfortably against mine, so warm and enveloping, making it hard to pull away.
When I finally made myself let go, I stepped back. “You need a haircut, fella!”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I keep putting it off. It must pain you as a hairstylist to look at me.”
I ghosted my hand down his chest. “There’s nothing painful about looking at you.”
I thought maybe he was blushing this time, under his thick beard.
He averted his gaze, focusing anywhere but on me. “Well, I should go. I’m just going to go.”
Smirking, I replied, “Okay, James. I’ll see you soon.”
He waved. “Bye, Frannie.”
Riding the elevator up to my apartment, I realized James never told me why he went home with me that night, why he chose me to be his first. And I found I really, really wanted to know. But mostly, I really, really wanted to know him.
Nine
The salon buzzed with frenetic energy that day, with all six stylists working on clients. After four years, I’d built up a respectable clientele of my own and had recently inherited some of Rachel’s clients when she decided to cut back her schedule so she could have a life outside of work.
“I want unicorn hair!” exclaimed the teenage girl sitting in my chair.
I stood behind her, examining her long blond hair in the mirror. Strangely enough, I knew exactly what unicorn hair meant.
“So, we’re going to do swirls of blue, pink, and purple?” I asked.
“And some lime green?”
I glanced over at her mom, one of my regular clients. “Are you cool with this plan?”
She nodded. “She showed me pictures of what she wants. It’s going to be so pretty!” She sounded just as enthusias
tic as her daughter.
I turned back to my client. “Aww, I love that your mom is so supportive! My mom wouldn’t even let me cut my hair above my shoulders. Rebellion for me meant getting a bob when I turned twenty.” They both laughed, and I went into the back to mix up the colors.
I brought four bowls out and my client clapped excitedly when she saw the bright colors.
I patted her shoulder. “This is going to be awesome! Just relax and let me do my magic.”
Once I’d gotten her hair painted and foiled, I put her under the dryer to help the color develop and told her I’d be back to rinse her in twenty minutes.
When I approached the front desk, our receptionist, Rebekah, stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Bad news, Frannie.”
“What’s up?” I plopped down in the seat next to her.
“Tomorrow’s last client cancelled.”
I scanned the schedule on the computer. “Boo! That was a full highlight and cut too.” I sighed, thinking of the money I’d be losing from that empty spot. “Oh well, at least it wasn’t someone in the middle of the day. Having to wait around for hours until your next client gets here blows.”
“Do you want me to try to fill it?” Rebekah asked.
I nodded. “Sure, just try not to leave a big space between clients, okay?”
She agreed, and I sat next to her, scrolling through Twitter until the timer went off.
My teenage client became giddy as I blew her hair out after rinsing the color. She practically bounced in her seat as the vivid kaleidoscope of shades became more obvious as her hair dried.
After using my curling iron to put a beachy wave in her hair, I whipped off her cape and she stared at herself in the mirror, mouth agape.
“My friends are going to be so jealous!”
When I walked her up to the waiting area, her mom jumped up, a huge smile on her face.
“Oh my goodness, sweetie, how beautiful are you!” She turned to me. “You did a wonderful job, Frannie!”
I watched as mother and daughter hugged, feeling a pang of envy in my chest. I’d never had such an easy relationship with my own mother; she was too demanding of perfection for us to ever have a chance to grow close.
At the end of the day, I joined Rachel and Eliza in the break room for a quick dinner. Splitting a platter of sushi rolls from the Japanese takeout place nearby had become our “thing.”
With a scrunched-up nose, I watched Rachel add a mound of wasabi to her soy sauce.
“How can you eat so much of that stuff without breathing fire?” I asked.
“I always wanted to be a dragon.” She pretended to blast me with her fire breath and I fought her off with my chopsticks.
“What’s Joe up to tonight?” I asked.
“Remember I told you he’s helping rewrite the band curriculum for the county?”
I nodded.
“Tonight, he’s with colleagues working on the project. He’s so in his element. I love watching him get excited about all the ideas they’ve been bouncing around.”
“If I’d had a music teacher like Joe in school, I would have gone much further,” said Eliza.
Rachel waved her hand. “Oh please, you’re a beautiful pianist.” She turned to me. “Frannie, you have to come over during one of their jam sessions.”
Eliza scoffed. “There’s no way you can call what we do a ‘jam session’!”
“I’ll call it that if I want to! Eliza is a rocker at heart. She just hides it. She and Joe were getting down, playing some Coldplay. She was on piano, Joe played guitar, and I tried to sing, but they shunned me.” Rachel giggled.
“You do have a surprisingly terrible voice for someone so sublime.”
She giggled, and I popped a California roll in my mouth.
“Hey, did you know Marco’s coming to town this week?”
Rachel cocked her head to the side. “Why would I know that? He’s in love with you!”
I gave her the biggest of eye rolls. “There’s no love between us. Just fucking fantastic sex.”
“Or fantastic fucking,” Rachel said.
“Oh, is this Coke-bottle-dick-with-the-twirly-mustache-you-met-in-New-York Marco?” Eliza asked.
I pointed to her. “That’d be the one. He wants to get drinks.”
Marco was the last person I’d had sex with. We met when Rachel and I went to New York for a hair show and he and I screwed all night. And. It. Was. Awesome. But I never intended to see him again. However, with my seemingly never-ending dry spell and the weirdness with James, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Rachel shrugged. “So get drinks.”
“I think I just might. Oh!” I dug around in my pocket and pulled my phone out. “I completely forgot to send you the video of my dance.”
Rachel held out her hand. “Gimme!”
I passed her my phone, and she and Eliza leaned their heads together so they could both see the screen.
She looked up when I didn’t move. “Are you going to watch?”
I shook my head. “No, I can’t watch myself.”
“Okay, Frananas.” She pressed the screen and the music began. I listened while they watched, averting my eyes so I didn’t see their expressions.
When the song ended there was a pause. But instead of the video ending, an unmistakable voice suddenly rasped, “You’re still so fucking beautiful.”
I gasped, and my friends studied my reaction.
“Didn’t James record this?” Rachel asked.
“That was a sweet message he left you,” said Eliza.
I nodded dazedly. I wanted to go to bed, tuck myself under the covers, and listen to his gravelly voice over and over again.
“Have you seen him lately?” Rachel asked.
I cleared my throat and shook away my fantasies. “Actually, we had lunch Monday. He took me out for crabs. I’ve been indoctrinated and I’m a true Marylander now.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “He gave you crabs and you didn’t tell us?”
“Crab jokes never get old.” I laughed lightly. “It only happened a couple days ago. I just haven’t had the chance to tell you yet and I’m telling you now!”
As much as I loved Rachel and Eliza, I wasn’t used to confiding anything. They liked when I entertained them with my sexual exploits, but those were just fun stories without feelings involved. And as hard as I tried to push them away, there were definitely feelings involved with James.
“What was he like?” Eliza asked softly.
I sighed. “He was…different than I thought he’d be. Still quiet, but he’s also really warm and funny. And I sniffed his beard!”
If I tried hard enough, I could almost smell his delicious orange spiciness.
Eliza twisted her lips to the side. “Why would you sniff his beard?”
“You know how I feel about his beard. I just wanted to know what it smelled like.”
“And…?” Rachel asked.
“It smelled outstanding. He conditions and oils it, which explains its luster,” I said.
Eliza nodded approvingly. “I like a man who takes care of his hair, even if it’s facial hair.”
I winked at her. “I knew you’d enjoy that.”
Rachel asked, “Have you seen him since?”
“No. I haven’t gone to the bar. I guess I wanted to give him some space.”
“Why would he want space?”
I threw my hands up. “I don’t know. I haven’t like liked a guy in years. I feel like I want to send him a note that says ‘Do you like me? Check Yes or No’.”
Rachel and Eliza looked at each other.
I narrowed my eyes at them. “What was that glance about?”
“I’ve never seen you unsure of yourself,” said Eliza.
“Yeah,” Rachel agreed. “You always say ‘I don’t get nervous’.”
I sighed. “I don’t get nervous, I don’t blush, I don’t feel awkward. Or I should say I never have, until James.”
“I think yo
u should go see him,” Rachel said as Eliza nodded.
I bit the corner of my lip. “You think? I guess it wouldn’t hurt. I’m not even sure if he’s working at the bar tonight.”
“Go for it, Frananas!” Rachel said.
My nerves were frayed walking through the entrance to Bar Royal. It was an unfamiliar and unsettling feeling I wanted to kick right to the curb.
I stood inside the door, scanning the place. The old-timers must have gone home for the evening. Their corner was empty. It looked like a typical Wednesday night: the bar was moderately busy with leftover happy hour drinkers and people who lived in the neighborhood.
When I approached the bar, I spotted James right away. He faced away from me, taking care of a group of customers on the other side of the room. I watched his steady movements, admiring the broad expanse of his back.
“You’re back!”
Tearing my gaze from James, I turned to see perky bartender Val smiling at me.
“Hi, Val. Can I just have a club soda with lots of lime?”
“Sure thing, Frannie.” She busied herself making the drink as my eyes snuck back to James, leaning forward to see more of him. I fully admitted to being an admirer of men’s asses, but James’ was something else: full, round, and hard. I had the strongest urge to bite it.
“Here ya go! Not drinking tonight?” Val placed my drink in front of me.
I shook my head. “Not tonight.”
She smiled broadly. “Cool! Well, enjoy your club soda. I’ll let James know you’re here.”
Before I could stop her, she skipped off in his direction. I scowled at her skipping. What grown woman skipped around a bar? Or skipped at all for that matter?
I watched as she said something to James, her hand on his back, gesturing in my direction. I quickly leaned back in my seat so they wouldn’t see I’d practically climbed on top of the bar, watching them.
When James didn’t come over right away, I sipped my drink and scrolled through my phone. I kept checking the time, and when ten minutes had passed without James stopping by to say hi, I decided I should leave. I was disappointed he hadn’t even acknowledged my presence, but I forced myself not to read into it. He must just be busy. I threw a few dollars on the bar and waved at Val. Squaring my shoulders, I headed out.