by Matt Juhl
"I don't want you gettin’ in trouble.”
"It’s fine, sweetie. This is my shop.”
"Really?"
The woman tossed her long, blonde locks back and extended her hand. “I’m Traci Galva."
“Harper Jones."
Traci’s skin was soft, yet her handshake strong and firm. Her green eyes were hypnotic and glowed as she smiled. By most standards, the woman was a bombshell.
“What kind of perfume are you wearin’?” Harper asked.
“It’s called Tantalize.”
“It smells nice.”
“Wanna try some? I have a bottle in my purse.”
“Nah, it’s okay.”
Traci widened her eyes and tugged on Harper’s hands. “Ugh…I’m about to slap you. We’ve gotta get you out of this grumpy funk. You’re starting to bring me down.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re coming inside, and I’m doing your makeup—that’s final.”
“But—”
She put her finger on Harper’s lips and pulled her through the front door. “But nothing. If you don’t like it, then you’ll just have to suffer through, ‘cause I’m dying to paint that pretty little face of yours.”
All the decorations inside the salon were black and hot pink. Each station had fresh floral arrangements in tall sleek vases under studio spotlights.
“So, what do you think?”
"You’ve got a nice place."
"Thanks."
"Did you do the decoratin’?”
"Of course." Traci slapped the cushion of her chair, motioning for her to sit. "My mother tried to give her lackluster input, but her taste was so drab and outdated that I had to spearhead the renovation myself.”
While Traci tied a smock around her neck and laid out her artillery of cosmetics, Harper noticed the incredible amount of jewelry weighing her down. From rings to bracelets and necklaces, the woman was dripping in diamonds.
"Does your mother work here too?”
"Not anymore.”
"That’s gotta be a relief. I can't even imagine workin’ with Mama. So what happened, did y'all drive each other crazy?"
"Not exactly.”
"Was she mad you didn’t like her ideas?”
She fluffed the ends of her hair, pondering the question. “No, nothing like that. We were quite close.”
“Then what went wrong?”
“It’s hard for me to talk about.”
“Why?”
Traci took a deep breath, hesitating a moment longer. "Because she’s dead.”
“What?” Harper covered her mouth.
Traci solemnly confirmed her statement.
“I’m so sorry.”
“She was my only family.”
“When did she die?”
“This October will be a year.”
“How’d it happen?”
“She disappeared while boating on Lake Michigan, just north of here in the town of Port Vista. She owned a beach house there. Anyway, I’d spoken with her that afternoon and made plans for brunch the next morning, but she never showed up. I’m sure you know how rough those waters can get, especially when large storms roll in. She didn’t stand a chance.”
“Oh my God.”
Traci fidgeted, blankly staring out the window. “The lake is hundreds of feet deep in most parts. The coast guard tried finding her, but after a couple days, they said her chances of survival were highly unlikely. Eventually they downgraded the case to an active search. So basically they gave up. Imagine losing your only living relative, and that’s the answer you receive.” Traci wiped the wetness from her tear-soaked eyes. “I miss her so much. We did everything together, like we were sisters.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry.”
"No, it’s okay. You didn’t know.”
“Yeah, but I could tell you didn’t wanna talk about it. I should’ve just taken the hint and shut up. I hope you can forgive me, ma’am."
"Excuse me, ma’am? Now I’m depressed.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m not that much older than you. What are you anyway, twenty-one, twenty-two?"
"Eighteen."
“Excuse me, eighteen?"
"Yeah, as of today."
"I never thought that’d sound so young. I’m starting to feel old. Well happy birthday, sweetie.”
"Thanks, but I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. You look real young.”
“I’m twenty-seven.”
"Twenty-seven and you already own your own business?”
"That’s right.”
“That’s a big accomplishment.”
“I suppose. After cosmetology school, I received my MBA. Mother never took me seriously when I said I wanted to run the shop, so I set out to prove her wrong. I don’t understand why she opened this place. Before me, one of her friends managed it.”
“That’d piss me off.”
“Tell me about it. Mother had her doubts, which I can understand, but she owned several businesses and real estate all over the country. This tiny salon wasn’t really worth her time. For a while, she talked about selling it. That’s when I finally convinced her to let me take over. I revamped everything and now we have had the largest customer base in its history. Not to mention it’s quite lucrative.”
“Sounds like you’ve been workin’ real hard.”
Traci smiled and applied a thin line under Harper's lid. “That’s an understatement. I’ve put my whole life into this place. Anyway, enough about me, where are you from? I hear a little twang in your voice.”
"Fire Brush, Louisiana. It’s just outside Shreveport. It’s a dump."
"Why the hell did you move here?"
“’Cause Mama burnt down our home.”
“Are you serious?”
Harper regaled Traci with long stories of the hardships she and Mindi had faced to bring them back to Faye.
"Let me get this straight, your aunt would really throw you out if your mom lost her job?"
"Not just for that, but ‘cause she’s a hopeless drug addict. She’s already pretty close to getting fired ‘cause she misses work all the time.”
"That must be difficult, living in a world of so much uncertainty."
"It’s hard, but I'm used to it."
“It sounds like your mom needs a reality check.”
“Mama won’t listen to anyone. I don’t know what it’s gonna take, but I’ve only got one year left of school. Then I can try makin’ it on my own.”
“Hang in there, sweetie. It’ll be all right.”
“I hope so.”
Traci spun her chair towards the mirror. "Well, what do we think?"
Harper’s eyes twinkled as she admired her reflection. She couldn't believe the mature-looking person staring back—she was beautiful. It was déjà vu, as if she was back in her bedroom, in front of her tiny vanity. The eighteen year old she was so desperately trying to see was finally realized. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like a little girl. She felt like a woman.
"You're stunning.” Traci turned around and reached into a drawer. “I’m putting together a makeup bag so you can try it on your own.”
“I don’t believe it.” Harper couldn’t stop staring in the mirror, captivated by her transformation. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It’s my gift to you.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“That’s real nice, but I can’t accept that, Traci.”
“Nonsense.” She shoved the bag at her. “Well now that you're all dolled up, where are you celebrating this evening?”
"I ain’t really doin’ anything.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Mama and Auntie are workin’ late, so I'll probably just wait for them to get home.”
"So, you don’t have any plans?"
"No, not really."
T
raci rested her hand on her delicate waist. "That’s unacceptable. I won't allow it. I’m taking you out for dinner.”
"No, you don’t gotta do that.”
"You aren’t spending your birthday alone. I simply won't hear of it."
"I really appreciate it, but you’ve already done way too much.”
“No I haven’t.”
“I don't want you feelin’ bad for me. I’ll be fine.”
"Not another word. We’re going out—and I know the perfect place."
Harper followed Traci into the most posh restaurant on the beach, Sizzle.
It was not the kind of establishment Harper frequented. The place had minimalistic decor, five course meals, and a spacious patio overlooking Lake Michigan. Never in her life had she dined in such extravagance.
After they were greeted, Traci requested a private table with a view of the shoreline.
As they walked to the back of the restaurant, Harper realized that being out with a woman felt much different than being with a man. For once, people weren’t staring at her. No one was whispering or insulting them. She felt safe. She felt normal.
However, throughout dinner, Traci’s lingering stare made Harper uncomfortable. The woman hung on each of Harper’s words with a hungry desire that suggested a greater interest than friendship.
Traci invasively reached across the table and lifted the heart-shaped pendant in the palm of her hand. "I love your necklace.”
“Thanks.”
“Where’d you get it?”
"Mama gave it to me.”
"It looks lovely on you."
Harper forced a smile, knowing it paled in comparison to the extravagant jewelry adorning Traci’s flawless body.
"So tell me, aside from parading through town in the rain, how else do you spend your time?”
"Nothin’ real excitin’. I’m usually at the beach.”
“Strange that I’ve never seen you—my house backs up to it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s too dark to see right now, but it’s on that hill right over there.”
Harper knew the massive estates Traci was pointing to. However, it was the first time she ever met anyone who lived in one of them.
“I’ve probably seen your house before. I’m always at the beach. It’s my favorite place to go, especially the lighthouse. Nik and I like watchin’ the boats from up there—”
"Wait—who’s Nik, someone special?"
"Yeah, sort of."
"Are you talking about Nikki Di Nolfo? She used to work for me.”
"No, Nik’s a guy. Nikolas Roberts."
Traci was so startled she wobbled the table and choked. Regaining her wits, she took a heavy sip of water and cleared her throat.
“Are you okay?” Harper asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
"What’s wrong? Do y’all know each other?"
"No I don’t think so. His name doesn’t seem relevant." Traci took a big swig of her cocktail. “I’m just surprised to hear you've been spending time with a boy. Don’t worry. I wasn't thinking that you were straight or anything sick like that. However, I'd be careful about devoting so much time to him.”
“Why?”
“People around here may start talking. It’ll make finding a girlfriend much more challenging,” Traci advised.
Before Harper could respond, the waiter presented their entrees.
For the first couple of minutes, the women quietly ate without exchanging any words.
After detecting Traci’s disapproval of her sexuality, Harper felt awkward. As generous as the woman was, it was slightly disheartening to hear she was heterophobic.
"So where's your friend tonight? If you guys are as close as you say, shouldn't you be together?" Traci asked.
"We had a disagreement and haven’t seen each other in a couple weeks.”
"Oh.” Her face lit up. “What happened?"
"It’s complicated. I don’t really wanna get into it—”
"You don’t have to explain anything. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
"I hope so. It’s strange not seein’ him. We usually spend every day together.”
“Good friends are certainly hard to come by,” Traci pointed out. “So what's his deal?"
"It’s a real long story. He's been through so much in his life. His father,” she reluctantly paused, “ran off with a woman and left Nik behind with his abusive, alcoholic dad.”
“You’re kidding me.” Traci chose her words carefully as if not to vilify the situation. “That seems rather scandalous.”
“Nik’s talked about wantin’ to find his father, but isn't sure where he’s even at. I don’t know, maybe it’d help our situation if they’d talk.”
"How do you figure?"
"Maybe it’d shed some light on the strong feelings we’ve got for each other.”
“I see. Usually when people disappear like that, they don’t want to be found.” Displeased, Traci smirked and abruptly changed the subject. "Tell me, how's the steak?"
After dinner, the wait staff brought a small cake with a candle and serenaded Harper for her birthday.
"You told them to do this?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re too much.”
"Well, go on, make a wish."
Harper stared at the dancing candle and watched the fickle flame move in its unpredictable way. It was reminiscent of her life path. She closed her eyes, losing herself in a moment of fantasy…
All she could see was Nik and his incredibly strong body. Before she could speak a single word, he’d hush her pouty lips with his long fingers. She ached for him, craving the warmth of his mouth to cover hers and for his intoxicating touch to send shivers down her back.
Harper held her breath and slowly opened her eyes, immediately disappointed when she looked across the table and saw Traci—not Nik.
"I know it’s your birthday, but I made a wish too.”
Harper cocked her head. "I'm sorry what?”
“I also made a wish. I hope you don’t mind.”
It struck Harper as strange. “Really, for what?”
"I’ve been having such a lovely evening that I hope we can spend more time together. That’s if you want to see me again.”
Harper shrugged. “I don’t have many friends.”
"That just breaks my heart, especially with everything you told me about your mom and your family life.”
“You don’t need to feel bad for me. I’m okay.”
“Look, I want you to know I'm here for you, anytime. It'd be wonderful if we could get to know each other better.” Traci placed a business card in Harper's hand. "I mean it, whether you want to grab dinner, need someone to do your makeup, or just a place to stay, give me a call."
"Really?”
"No one deserves a life of uncertainty. Besides, what are friends for?"
Traci boldly reached for Harper's hands and leaned across the table.
Their lips were mere inches apart, but Harper quickly pulled back.
Then Traci slowly kissed Harper’s hand as if it were her original intention.
"I’ve gotta go."
“So suddenly?”
"Mama’s already off work,” she lied. “I’ve gotta get home.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.”
“But I feel as if I did. I really like you and hope we can see each other soon. Promise you’ll keep in touch?”
“Sure.” She threw her purse over her shoulder and stood up.
“Remember, if you need anything, call me.”
"Yep, got it, thanks.”
Harper lifted her hand to wave. Before she could escape, Traci pulled her into an awkward embrace.
She closed her eyes, tantalized by the softness of Harper’s skin and the alluring aroma of her light, fruity perfume. She lingered in the moment, desperately hoping that it’d never end.
After watching Harper leave, Traci collapsed into the chai
r and let out a defeated sigh. She pulled a cigarette out of her designer clutch, lit a match, and took a long, slow drag.
No woman had ever caught her attention with the same intensity as Harper.
Traci’s mind spun in frantic circles while she contemplated her next move and suppressed the uncontrollable fantasies.
She realized Harper would be a challenge, especially since she was attracted to men—specifically Nik Roberts. It meant that she needed to move fast.
Traci Galva was the kind of woman who always got everything she wanted, and in no uncertain terms, she wanted the sweet, Southern girl.
Harper ran through the downpour into the corner drug store to get an umbrella. As she compared the vibrant colors amongst one another, she felt relieved to be faced with far less pressing issues than her sexuality.
While waiting for the cashier, she saw a headline on the chronicle that read: 'Local Teen Found Dead.’ She thought her eyes had been playing a vicious trick on her when she saw the victim’s name, Ricky Wiley.
Harper couldn’t breathe. It felt as if someone was choking the last breath of air from her lungs.
While standing under the flickering fluorescent light of the store sign, she read how his lifeless body had been found earlier that day in the Dark Woods, just as Brielle predicted. It sent chills down her spine.
She stepped onto the soaked beach, walking towards the water. Ricky's death made her think deeper about Brielle’s predictions. The woman professed to know many things, but what stuck in Harper’s mind was how insistent she was that Harper needed Nik.
That’s when it hit her. Ricky was really gone. He’d never be able to hurt them or say another vile thing about their relationship. It didn’t completely diminish the possibility for other hate crimes, but it provided relief.
However, it also gave Harper more to consider—so she headed somewhere to clear her mind. She ran for the lighthouse.
Through the heavy rain, she looked up and saw its beacon as if it were reaching for her. As comforting as it was, she wished she’d see the soft, promising glow of candlelight in the watch room, signifying Nik’s presence. However, the tower was dark and empty, much like the way she felt standing in the middle the desolate beach.
The soft rumble of thunder grew stronger. The waves were uncompromising, crashing against the shore as she raced to her safe haven. Harper held the umbrella out to shield her face against the wind and spitting rain.