Blind Delusion

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Blind Delusion Page 7

by Dorothy Phaire


  Whittni cleared her throat and chimed in, “I’m with Cha-Cha, girl. My last client’s at 7 so I’m gonna be on my feet all day. Can we save the pumpin’ Club jams for later?”

  There was an awkward moment of silence between the women, while the music blared. Nadine, a plump thirty-ish looking woman in a short, natural Afro marched over to the CD player and popped in a soft love ballad by Mariah Carey.

  “Thanks, girl. I didn’t get to bed ‘til three this morning,” said Cha-Cha.

  “Up all night again with some ‘Yo boy’, huh?” teased the petite, willowy one they called Takara. Dressed in tight, black knit pants and a V-neck top, Takara’s creamy complexion accented her highlighted chestnut hair that was cut in a short, layered style.

  “Yo boy? What the hell’s that?” asked Nadine.

  “You know, one of them gansta wannabes, always saying 'Yo man, what's up or Yo Ma, come here,' explained Takara, “Every third word out of their mouth is Yo. A wannabe thug who failed eighth grade English.”

  “Nah, Takara. That’s your type,” said Cha-Cha as she sashayed over to the shampoo bowl, motioning for Renee to follow, “Y’all can just kiss my big, black luscious behind.”

  “So what’s your excuse for keeping your client waiting for almost an hour?” said Nadine as she set the flat iron down and put her hand on her hip, “Just who do you think you are—struttin’ in here like Queen Makeda? Then taking your sweet time to start working.”

  There it was, out in the open. Nadine had voiced the same sentiments that Renee had been feeling and had wanted to say to Cha-Cha herself but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Renee felt her head tingle from Cha-Cha’s strong nails, scratching and massaging the shampoo into her scalp. Nadine’s accusations must have hit a nerve.

  “Girl, you better watch the time on your own customer’s relaxer and mind your own damn business,” said Cha-Cha to Nadine over her shoulder.

  A moment later she switched to her sweet, seductive voice and offered an explanation.

  “Well, I did meet me a real cutie pie last night in the Helix lounge at Club 2K9,” said Cha-Cha, “Of course, I didn’t need a VIP pass ‘cause I was looking fly in my red spandex sequined halter. The dude at the door just let me right on in. Anyway, that Brother I met is one fine specimen of a man. We played some pool, drank some Cristal. And got to know each other better, if you know what I mean.” Cha-Cha paused, as if recalling a dream.

  “James Ian Mathias,” Cha-Cha went on to say, “His friends call him Ian. He’s got dark, dreamy, bedroom eyes. He’s 29 years old and he’s a Scorpio like me. The Brother drives a midnight-blue Jag—an XK8. He graduated from Georgetown U four years ago with an MBA and now runs his own Marketing Consulting business downtown. And by the way, he owns a lavish condo in Georgetown. I didn’t want to say anything about him in front of my girlfriend, Veda. I didn’t want her to be jealous seeing as how she’s all alone right now.”

  “Oh, how thoughtful of you,” said Takara, sarcastically, “What did you do, girl? Have the man investigated? You got his whole damn dossier. Anyway, no need for your girl to be jealous of you. This dude sounds like a drug dealer to me. One of them executive thugs, you know what I’m sayin’?” The other stylists started laughing in agreement with Takara.

  “Y’all just jealous ‘cause you ain’t getting no play,” Cha-Cha taunted the other girls over the running water.

  “Umhum. Ian right? Where’s this dude from?” said Nadine.

  “He was born in D. C. but his mama’s people are from Jamaica and his daddy’s American—Black. Ian said I was like champagne in a Dixie cup and he’d make sure that from now on I’d always be poured from a crystal glass.”

  “What? What kinda sorry bullshit line is that?” laughed Nadine out loud.

  “Girl, you getting ready to get in trouble again,” said Whittni as she shook her head.

  “That’s right,” said Nadine, “Y’all know she stay stuck on stupid. We ain’t forgot about that married man you keep going back and forth with. I don’t know who the hell you think would be jealous of you.”

  “Shoot, that’s ancient history, girl. I’m all through with that. Anyway, Ian ain’t nobody’s ‘Yo boy’ and he’s too refined and educated to be a drug dealer. And he is S-I-N-G-L-E. You’ll see for yourselves soon enough. I gave him my card and he’s coming in for a haircut today.”

  “Umhum. Yeah, okay. Right,” they all said in unison, “We don’t believe a word of your Cinderella bullshit, Cha-Cha.”

  At that moment the chimes on the door sang as it opened. Everybody looked towards the door. His eyes were deep-set, dark brown and piercing. Caramel-colored complexion on a clean-cut baby face and dark softly waved hair radiated a Fortune 500 image. He removed his sunglasses slowly and scanned the shop, squinting at the room full of people through the blinding overhead lights. Renee’s eyes locked onto his at the same time that his gaze struck her. A sinister eerie feeling washed over Renee from his three-second gaze.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and conversations ceased in mid sentence. Even Mr. Woods stopped talking. If Cha-Cha had walked in earlier like the Queen then this man arrived like the King. Tall, slender and muscular without bulkiness, his height reached almost 6’4.” He carried himself majestically and had them all mesmerized. Renee noticed he wore one small diamond earring that had baguettes encased in white gold. He had on a pair of loose-fitting, cocoa-brown, soft leather Versace pants, zip-side biker boots, and a brown leather aviator jacket.

  He held a clear champagne bottle in one hand and two lead-crystal flutes in the other. He walked over to Cha-Cha without saying a word, bent down and kissed her on the neck. Then again on her exposed chest. Everyone in the shop stood motionless with their mouths hung open and jaws dropped to their chins. Even Cha-Cha seemed dazed and had allowed a glob of hair color to linger on Renee’s head and ooze down her client’s forehead.

  “How are you Charis?” he said in a sexy, soft-spoken voice, “I brought you some more Cristal, Baby.”

  There was something about this man that Renee did not like. And she had good instincts about people. He was like a spider encircling Cha-Cha and enclosing her into his web. Renee didn’t trust the quiet, innocent-looking, clean-cut façade. She believed he would not hesitate to give an order to have someone killed if they got in his way. But Cha-Cha, or Charis as he had re-christened her, was completely taken in. He poured the champagne and offered Cha-Cha a glass. They both took a sip then Cha-Cha sat her glass down at her station.

  “What’re you wearing, Ian?” said Cha-Cha and nuzzled her nose close to his neck.

  “Yves Saint Laurent. Like it Baby?” he said and took another drink of champagne.

  “Umhum. Very nice.”

  “Do you have time to give me a shape-up, Baby?” he asked.

  “Uh huh,” she answered in a trance-like state.

  They acted like no one else was in the shop. Finally, Nadine broke the spell.

  “Cha-Cha, um … I mean, Charis, your customer’s color is drippin’.”

  “Damn,” said Cha-Cha as she grabbed a damp towel and blotted Renee’s neck and face.

  Cha-Cha dipped her fingers in a pot of ashes sitting on her counter and scrubbed along the hairline to remove the color stains from Renee’s skin. She rubbed Renee’s forehead so hard, Renee thought her skin was peeling off right along with the color.

  “C’mon, over to the bowl, honey, so I can rinse out your color.” Renee followed Cha-Cha quickly to the shampoo bowl and leaned her head back, welcoming the rush of warm water on her scalp.

  “Ian, just let me get my client under the dryer to pre-dry then I can take care of you, Baby,” said Cha-Cha.

  Ian took a seat in the waiting area and poured himself another glass of champagne. He offered the girls some but said he only brought two glasses. Takara rushed into the
back room and came out with a coffee mug. Ian looked at her strangely but she didn’t seem to care. She held out her mug for him to fill.

  Ian finished his drink before Cha-Cha had barely taken a few sips. Renee didn’t say anything, but she hoped Cha-Cha would wait until she finished her ‘up do’ before drinking any more of that champagne. Cha-Cha combed out Renee’s wet hair then positioned her under one of the dryers. She made sure Renee was comfortable under the dryer then set the timer for twenty minutes and handed her a magazine. She looked over at Ian and turned on her seductive voice, beckoning him to come forward. She invited Ian to sit at her station and meticulously shaped and trimmed his naturally soft hair. The back and forth teasing that had been going on between the four stylists before Ian arrived had stopped. Even the customers kept silent and watched how the two lovers interacted. It was easy to see the sexual tension and chemistry between Cha-Cha and Ian.

  “I hope you don’t mind me calling you by your given name, Charis,” he said turning around to admire her, “Charis is actually the name of a beautiful Greek goddess who carried herself with grace and purity. Cha-Cha sounds ghetto and you’re too sophisticated and classy a lady to be called that.”

  “Umph,” snorted Nadine and stomped over to the CD player to change the music and turn the volume up.

  “Keep still Baby,” said Cha-Cha sweetly then turned to cast a sharp glare at Nadine.

  Ian’s cell phone rang. He whipped the phone out of his pants pocket and checked the caller-id display before answering. “What’s up B?” said Ian to the caller and held up his hand for Cha-Cha to stop cutting and give him a second.

  “Re-up, ten to twenty. Cool, that’s a M.C.”

  Ian hung up and apologized for making her stop so he could take a business call. “Sorry. That was important, Baby. I’m closing a major investment deal and those fools at my office can’t handle shit without me.”

  Twenty minutes seemed like an eternity but finally, Renee heard the timer on the hairdryer go off. She pushed the hood up abruptly to let Cha-Cha know that the drying cycle had completed. This guy, James Ian Mathias had just walked in and didn’t even have an appointment. Not only had her stylist kept her waiting for forty minutes between arriving late and carrying on personal conversations, she was making Renee wait even longer while she took extra time on her new boyfriend’s hair. Renee slammed down the magazine and stared straight at Cha-Cha. She was getting dangerously close to losing her temper and that’s something she didn’t want to do in public. Cha-Cha didn’t look up because she was absorbed in a heavy, intimate conversation with the handsome young man in her chair. Renee felt a tap on her arm and saw Nadine’s smiling face.

  “What you getting today, honey?” said Nadine in an understanding voice, “My customer’s been wet set and needs to stay under the dryer for 45 minutes. I can finish up your blow dry and curl in about fifteen minutes.”

  There was an unspoken rule among stylists that they didn’t try to steal each other’s customers, especially not in front of their face. Cha-Cha must have taken her eyes off Ian long enough to realize what Nadine was up to. She slammed down the clippers and marched over to Nadine. Cha-Cha glared at Nadine without uttering a word. If looks were bullets, Nadine would be dead.

  “I know you’ve lost your damn mind, Nadine.”

  “No, you the one lost your damn mind,” said Nadine raising her voice, “We’ve all seen you goin’ through changes. Now that you own the place, you’re late all the time. You expect Whittni and Takara to take your messages when Sherrelle’s not here—‘cause I sure as hell ain’t your secretary. Your license’s been expired for two weeks. What if the inspector drops in and sees you operating with an expired license? The shop closes and we all lose money. I don’t wanna get in your business but…girl, you need to get your priorities straight.”

  “I plan to get my license renewed tomorrow morning so y’all don’t have to worry about that. And anything else I do is none of your damn business.”

  “All I know is some people don’t sell their butt to get what they want,” said Nadine eyeing Ian.

  “Look y’all need to just stop this mess right now,” said Takara, “We have customers in here.”

  “I could say a lot about you, Nadine, but I’ve got too much class to stoop to your level. You and everybody in here know I can slice you up with my tongue anytime I feel like it. I don’t need no other weapon to bring you down, girl.”

  Nadine stormed out the back door to cool off. Cha-Cha finished up Ian’s hair in silence.

  “Baby, do you have plans tonight?” Ian asked and lifted Cha-Cha’s mood. She brushed the loose hair from his back and answered him in a sexy voice. “I do now. What do you have in mind, Baby?”

  “I wanna take you to a black tie political fundraiser tonight. I know it sounds lame but there’ll be some important people there I need to get friendly with for business reasons,” he said. “If you came with me, I could stand it for a little while.”

  Ian held out a fist full of hundred dollar bills and told her to buy a new outfit, shoes, and all the accessories she needed for the evening. Cha-Cha always dressed stylishly in designer clothes and kept up with her manicures and pedicures. She insisted she already had several gowns in her closet, bragging aloud that her outfits and shoes fit into a separate room. Ian shoved the money into her hand anyway and said he wanted his woman to buy something new.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight. So we can fall in the joint fashionably late and make our grand entrance.”

  Cha-Cha shouldn’t have any problem being fashionably late, thought Renee. Cha-Cha and Ian kissed good-bye at the door and Cha-Cha was finally ready to turn her full attention to Renee’s hair. When Renee sat down in her stylist’s chair, she sensed that Cha-Cha was pre-occupied and still fuming from the argument she had with Nadine. Now that Ian had left the shop there was nothing to keep her distracted. She barely spoke a word as her fingers tucked, pulled and pinned Renee’s hair. Cha-Cha didn’t need to add a synthetic hairpiece because Renee’s own hair was thick enough to provide volume. She swept up Renee’s hair in the back into a graceful French twist. A few remaining strands of hair cascaded downwards in feathery, loose ringlets. Although, Cha-Cha worked quickly, the finished effect was exactly what Renee had envisioned. Her stylist had created an elegant evening up-do. Cha-Cha sprayed the final creation with a mist of oil sheen. The end result: elegant and sophisticated. As usual, the wait had been worth it.

  “You did it again, Cha-Cha. Performed another miracle,” Renee beamed as she raised the hand mirror to admire her hairstyle, “I love it!”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased,” said Cha-Cha, fingering a stubborn wisp of Renee’s hair into place. Cha-Cha turned around and gave the other stylists an ‘I told you so’ look of satisfaction.

  Renee now felt ready to celebrate her birthday tonight. Nothing was going to stop her show—not even Bill quitting his job or buying a new car he didn’t need. She had something special in store for her husband. Something he’d never forget.

  Chapter 7

  Renee pulled into the garage around 5:30 PM and panicked when she saw that Bill had arrived home before her. Both of his cars were parked in the garage. He had told her to be ready by 6:30. She rushed to her bedroom but fortunately he wasn’t there. Probably somewhere in his office, she thought. She began quickly stripping out of her clothes. After a quick bath, she slipped on a burgundy satin robe and lingered in front of the mirror touching up her makeup.

  Bill was dressed and ready to go. To ease his impatience, he waited in the study and watched the evening news as he sipped on a glass of Courvoisier. While he hoped he’d be wrong this time, he didn’t expect Renee to be ready on time as he’d requested.

  Renee removed her robe and snapped on the new ‘Flatter Me’ bra to push up, tuck in, and pad where needed. Not only did this miracle bra enlarge her breast size an ext
ra cup but its corset wiring sucked in her slightly soft middle as well. She put on a pair of kidskin gloves and slipped her legs through ultra sheer, flesh-toned hose. Black slingback shoes lifted her 5’4” height another few inches. Then she stepped into a floor length, blue-black gown with plunging neckline. She added the finishing touch, a pair of diamond drop earrings and matching teardrop necklace that settled close to the crevice of her enhanced bosom. Renee admired herself in the full-length mirror and practiced a sexy, slow-strutting Mae West walk.

  But within moments, the under wire of the push-up bra began to pinch her breastbone. She discovered if she stood straight with shoulders back and breast protruded, it didn’t hurt as much. Her swept up hairdo with side tendrils framed her face and the shimmering makeup transformed her from attractive to dropdead gorgeous. Renee smiled at her reflection in the mirror and twirled around like a schoolgirl dressed for the prom. Forty-five ain’t so bad after all. More of an intellectual type, the role of beautiful uninhibited sex goddess was not a typical part for Renee to assume. It might be fun playing that role tonight, she thought. Then she remembered the private dinner invitation for Saturday that she had mailed to Bill that morning. The new Renee would be in just the right mood for Bill’s surprise on Saturday night. Suddenly, her husband’s restless voice calling upstairs interrupted her thoughts.

  “Jesus Christ, Renee, aren’t you ready yet? It’s past 6:30!”

  “Five more minutes, dear,” she called back, sweetly.

  After rinsing the eye-shadow stains from her fingers, she discovered the water wouldn’t turn off. The faucet felt loose so she kept turning and turning the knob to the off position but water continued to pour out. Just then the cap popped off and a gush of water shot up into her perfectly made up face and hair.

  “Damnit.” Renee slammed the cap back on the faucet to plug up the spray of water and quickly turned the knob in the opposite direction. Eventually, the water stopped. She cursed her own stupidity as well as Bill’s laziness for not fixing the faucet. He had promised over a week ago to replace the O ring or get a new fixture for her sink after she told him repeatedly that the water in her bathroom faucet dripped. Of course, he hadn’t done it. Just one more example of the many things he promised to take care of but didn’t. She dabbed her face lightly with a towel, not wanting to smudge her makeup and plugged in the electric curlers to mend her drooping side tendrils. Well, he would just have to cool his heels and wait. Renee reapplied rouge on her checks and dusted her face again with translucent powder while waiting for the curlers to heat.

 

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