Escape With You

by Rachel Schurig

  She pats my arm and continues down the room. Mirrors line the walls and I catch my reflection in one. I pulled my hair back today so that my blue streaks wouldn’t be quite so prominent. Of course, Alice and Susie had already seen my hair, and my piercings, when they interviewed me, but I had no idea what the other stylists were like.

  “This will be your spot,” Susie says, stopping at the last station on the right. “Plenty of room for all your tools. Feel free to bring in some personal items.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Wash stations are over there,” she points. “And we do waxing back here.” She shows me to a small room in the back where I’m sure to spend a lot of time. Most salons expect stylists to bring in their own clientele and Alice’s is no different. Of course, I’ll be assigned to walk-ins and new clients the same as everyone else, but until I build up my regulars, I know I’ll be doing more than my fair share of grunt work—eyebrow waxes and pedicures as well as cleaning up around the place.

  “Here’s the break room,” Susie says, heading across the hall. The break room has a small kitchenette and a table stacked with gossip magazines. “Everything for the coffee is back here. We try to keep a warm pot on for the clients all the time, as well as ice water.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “You and I will mostly be splitting those duties, I’m afraid. Along with manning reception and cleaning. At least until you start booking some regulars.”

  “No problem,” I assure her. “I’d rather keep busy.”

  “Well then, let’s go up to reception and I’ll show you the appointment book and how to use the till.”

  The half hour before open passes pretty quickly. Susie shows me how to fill in appointments, how to use the credit card machine, and where to find supplies for my station. Just when I’m starting to feel overwhelmed, the other stylists start to show up. Susie introduces me to each of them in turn and I know there’s no way I’ll remember any of the names she says. For the most part, the staff is friendly, though I notice a few giving me a bit of side-eye. I keep a smile plastered on my face throughout the introductions even though I’m starting to wish I could just go home and climb under the covers.

  Everyone feels like this on their first day, I remind myself, and the voice in my head sounds suspiciously like Fred.

  The first client comes in right after Susie turns on the open sign. “Make sure you open the blinds in the morning,” she tells me. “Even if it’s sunny. Chad always wants the blinds up when we’re open.”

  “Chad?”

  “Oh, haven’t you met him? He’s Alice’s husband. They own a few businesses in town so he’s not here all the time, but you’ll see him around. Usually they take turns making sure one of them at least stops in every day.”

  I nod, distracted by the arrival of another client. “Come on,” Susie says. “I’ll show you how to check them in.”

  The morning passes quickly. Susie has me shadow her for most of her manager duties. To be honest, it’s not much different than working in a restaurant. You check people in when they show up, smile at everyone, make sure there’s always coffee, and clean up on your down time. The first big surprise comes before my lunch break.

  “Why don’t you take a few minutes to get comfortable at your station,” Susie suggests. “Before your first client gets here.”

  I stare at her. “I have a client?”

  She smiles. “Of course. Didn’t you know? They requested you specifically.”

  I frown, wondering who on earth it could be. I had a few regulars at beauty school, but I hadn’t expected many of them to follow me here—most of them got their hair done at beauty school because their budget didn’t allow for anything else.

  Five minutes later a familiar red head enters the salon and I feel something like a lump in my throat. Zoe.

  I grin at her, shaking my head, as Susie shows her to my station.

  “Hi,” she says, grinning back. “How’s it going?”

  “I can’t believe you,” I tell her. “You made an appointment? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  She shrugs. “I knew you were worried about not having any clients your first day, so I thought I’d come in and get my color done.” She peers over my shoulder into the mirror. “God knows I need it.”

  I nod. “You do. Your roots are an inch long, you slob.”

  “Is that how you talk to your customers?” she asks. “I guess you’re not too worried about a tip.”

  I laugh and steer her into the chair at my station. In spite of my teasing I feel like I might cry, and Zoe would never let me live it down if I did that. It’s so like her, though, to show up without telling me, just to make my first day a little easier. I squeeze her shoulders a little as I slip her cape on, and she meets my eyes in the mirror, nodding at me, and I know she understands how grateful I am.

  “So.” I lift her hair, letting it fall back to her shoulders. “We still going red?”

  She nods. “Yeah. But I was thinking a little darker this time. What do you suggest?”

  “Let’s see.” I go and grab some hair samples to show her and in no time at all I’m into my groove, feeling comfortable in my skin for the first time all day. I’m good at this, I remind myself. I have good instincts and I’m good at connecting with customers. Even if that stylist with the giant blond hair and the fake eyelashes has been shooting me dirty looks ever since she got here.

  Zoe leaves an hour later with freshly colored hair. She hugs me at the door and slips me a tenner for my tip. “You’re gonna be fab, babe,” she whispers. “We’ll get dinner tonight?”

  I nod, feeling teary all over again, but slap her on the butt as she passes. “My treat.”

  “Damn right it is. I just gave you my last ten.”

  I laugh as she leaves and head back to clean up my station. As I finish up Susie comes to tell me I can take my lunch break and I sigh in relief. Zoe certainly brightened my day, but I’ve pretty much been running on adrenaline since I got here. It will be nice to sit down and zone out a little.

  No sooner do I enter the break room do I realize it would have been smarter to go chill in my car. Fake eyelash girl is already sitting at the table along with another blonde girl whose name eludes me. “Hi,” I say, grabbing a seat on the other side of the table.

  Fake-eyelash girl raises her eyebrows at me. “Hi.” How can one syllable sound so judgmental and bitchy?

  I pick up a magazine and pull an apple from my purse. If they want to be bitchy that’s on them—I’m not going to let it ruin my break. They go right back to their conversation as if I never even came in the room. I try to tune them out but second blonde girl—Carrie, apparently—has the loudest, whiniest voice I’ve ever heard. I make a mental note to bring headphones tomorrow.

  After ten minutes they both get up and throw away their trash before leaving the break room without so much as a “so long.” I roll my eyes at the magazine. It’s not that I wasn’t expecting that kind of behavior from at least some of my co-workers, but it would have been nice to have been proven wrong.

  A minute later I hear the door open behind me and I grimace, mentally crossing my fingers that whoever it is will be nicer than Carrie and Eyelashes.

  “Oh, sorry,” a deep male voice says, and I turn, surprised. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”

  The guy, whoever he is, is hovering by the door to the hallway, as if trying to decide if he should leave me alone. But then he smiles and steps into the room, letting the door shut behind him. He’s really good looking, I think. He’s tall and dark-haired with bright green eyes and fair amount of stubble on his chin. He’s clearly muscular beneath his tight white T-shirt and black jacket.

  “I’m Chad,” he says, holding out his hand. His eyes drop down to my figure before snapping back to my face and his smile seems to deepen. “You must be Ellie.”

  Awesome, I think to myself. My new boss just totally checked out my rack.

  I plaster on a fake smile and shake his hand. “Hi, it�
��s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” he says. To my surprise he takes the seat next to me. “So. How are you settling in?”

  “Pretty good.” He’s sitting a little bit too close to me for comfort, so I lean back in my chair a bit to provide some space—but that seems to direct his attention back to my chest. Frowning a little, I lean back into the table. “Susie’s been great showing me around.”

  “She’s wonderful,” he agrees. I wonder if he noticed my reaction because his eyes stay firmly planted on my face now. “She keeps the place running for us.”

  For us. I remember Alice, the owner who had interviewed me, and I feel a little sick. She was a nice woman, only a few years older than me. Quiet and mousey, but very pretty and sweet. She certainly didn’t deserve to have her husband leering at her new employee.

  “She’s been a life saver for me today.” I wonder if I should go back to my magazine but I don’t want to seem rude to my boss on my first day. At least he no longer seems to be checking me out—maybe I’d imagined it anyhow.

  “How about the other girls?” he asks, tilting his head toward the door. “Everyone being friendly?”

  I nod, realizing as I do so that there are only girls in the salon. I wonder if there’s a reason for that—hair styling is definitely a female dominated profession, but there’s often at least one or two guys in a salon this size.

  “Great,” he says, smiling again. He has really nice, straight white teeth. In fact, everything about his looks are nice. Even his stubble seems to be carefully planned and groomed to maximize his good looks. I wonder, briefly, if I’d be more attracted to him if it wasn’t for Fred and immediately feel bad. He’s married, I remind myself. Don’t be gross.

  “Honey?” a voice calls from the hall, and Chad suddenly sits up straighter in his chair, putting more distance between us. The door opens and Alice sticks her head in. “There you are.”

  “Alice, did you know Ellie was starting today?” he asks, his voice smooth and unconcerned. If she had any suspicion about him sitting alone in a room with one of her stylists, she doesn’t show it. She merely smiles at me sweetly. “Hello, Ellie. Susie tells me you’re off to a great start.”

  I smile back, feeling bad all over again for her husband’s wandering eye. “Thanks. I’m glad to hear it.”

  She turns her attention to Chad. “We need to go if we want to get that deposit in.”

  He nods, slapping the table lightly. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

  She gives me a small wave as Chad stands. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Ellie,” she says, and I wave back.

  “So long, Ellie,” Chad says as his wife disappears behind the swinging door. He places a hand on the table and leans into me, way too close to be appropriate. “I hope to see much more of you soon.”

  Then he’s gone, leaving me shaking my head. Why do so many guys have to be so gross? His wife is three feet away and he was leaning in so close he was practically touching me. I sigh as I return to my apple, hoping this doesn’t become a problem. It’s only my first day at work, and the last thing I need is for my boss to be leering at me all the time. If Eyelashes and Carrie have dirty looks for me now, I can only imagine what they’d think if they thought I was slutting it up with Chad.

  As if I’d even consider it, I think to myself. Immediately Fred’s face flashes though my mind and I smile.

  It isn’t until I’m heading back out to my station that I realize what just happened. I had just unconsciously listed Fred as a reason why I wouldn’t be interested in another guy. You need to knock that off real fast, I order myself as I set my purse on the shelf under my work space. Fred is just a friend. And that’s exactly the way you want it.

  ***

  “So where are we eating?” Hunter asks as soon as he climbs into the back seat of my car.

  “It’s nice to see you too, Hunt,” I say. “My first day at work was fantastic, thanks so much for asking.”

  He ruffles my hair, which he knows I hate, and rests his chin on my shoulder over the seat. “Sorry, Ellie, my love. I’m starving but that’s no excuse for neglecting you. I know how very little attention you get in your life.”

  “Okay, okay,” I mutter, as Zoe laughs next to me. “Put your seatbelt on so I can drive.”

  “Drive where?” he asks. “Or do we need to talk about your day and your feelings some more before I can ask what we’re eating?”

  “It’s up to Ellie,” Zoe says, ignoring the middle finger I raise in Hunter’s direction. “Because we’re celebrating her first day.”

  Hunter makes a big deal of coughing, sounding suspiciously like he’s saying the words Burrito Barn.

  “Seriously, Hunter?” I ask. “I’m finally free from that place.”

  “Where else are we going to go?” he points out. “It’s not like we have a ton of choices here.”

  “He has a point,” Zoe agrees. “Besides, if you’re paying wouldn’t you rather go somewhere you know you can still snag a discount?”

  “Good point.” I pull out of Hunter’s parking lot and head in the direction of the Burrito Barn.

  “So, how’d it go?” Hunter asks.

  “Oh, now you want to know how it went.”

  “Of course I do,” he says seriously. “You know I was just teasing you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  I roll my eyes at him in the rearview mirror. “I’m sure you were. I’m sure your thoughts were totally not on your hot new co-worker.”

  “Rob,” he says dreamily. “You guys have to meet Rob.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Zoe says. “Since he’s the only thing you’ve talked about for the past two weeks.”

  “Hey,” Hunter argues. “You both have your hot men, you know? What do I have except my fantasies?”

  “Excuse me,” I say. “I do not have a hot man.”

  “Uh huh,” he says. In the rearview I can see him shaking his head. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  Perhaps sensing from my reddening face that I’m getting pissed, Zoe changes the subject. “Speaking of my hot man, Taylor got a piece accepted into an art show at school. It’s a pretty big deal—apparently freshman are never accepted.”

  It’s strange to hear Jet Taylor described as a freshman, considering he’s several months older than me. I always have to remind myself that he never gotten into the whole college thing until he met Zoe.

  “That’s awesome,” Hunter says. “Good for him.”

  “You’re going to make me go, aren’t you?” I ask as we pull into the Burrito Barn parking lot.

  Zoe shoots me a pointed glance. “I don’t think you were exactly complaining about the outcome of his last art show, if I recall correctly.”

  I wink at her. “You’re right. That totally turned out to my advantage.”

  “Slut,” she mutters as she opens her car door and I laugh.

  Betsy is working and gives me a huge hug when she sees me at the hostess stand. “I miss you already,” she moans into my ear.

  “I had my last shift two days ago,” I remind her.

  “Yeah, well, your replacement is hopeless.”

  I pat her on the shoulder. “Just giver her some of that Betsy patented patience and she’ll be fine.”

  Betsy snorts and waves us into the dining room. “Take number nineteen. I’ll be right over.”

  We settle into our booth, Betsy right on our heels with Cokes for each of us. She takes our order quickly before smiling at me. “I’m totally slammed right now, but I want to hear all about the first day, okay?”

  “Sure,” I tell her, making a shooing motion. “Go earn those tips, girl.”

  “So,” Hunter says. “How did it go? You still haven’t said.”

  So I told them both about the day, including the attitude from Eyelashes and the encounter with Chad.

  “He sounds like a creep,” Zoe says, shaking her head. “You don’t have to put up with that, you know.”

  I r
oll my eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, Zoe.”

  “Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to. Bosses shouldn’t be making you feel uncomfortable.”

  I shrug. “I might have imagined it.”

  “Yeah, right,” Hunter says, narrowing his eyes at me. “Like you of all people wouldn’t be able to tell when someone is hitting on you.”

  “We’ll just have to see how it goes. I’ll be careful about putting myself in a situation where I’m alone with him.” I take a sip of my Coke. “It’s kind of a shame, actually. That he’s my boss. And married. He was pretty cute.”

  Hunter makes a face at me. “What about Fred?”

  “Oh my God,” I mutter, throwing a napkin at him. “Fred and I are not a couple. It isn’t like that.”

  “But Zoe said he’s moving back,” Hunter says, looking from me to her. “Didn’t you?”

  “According to Taylor.” She looks at me. “Did you know that? Because I haven’t heard you mention it.”

  I shift in my seat, feeling uncomfortable. “I know. He told me last week, after the interview. But he’s not moving back, not technically. He’ll still have his place in Ann Arbor, he’ll just be here part of the week.”

  “And what does that mean for you?” Hunter asks.

  “Nothing,” I say firmly.

  “So you’re not going to see him?” he presses. “Seriously?”

  “Obviously I’m going to see him, on occasion. But nothing’s changed. We’re not dating; we’re not in a relationship. We’re just friends.”

  Of course my phone would have to ring at that moment. I look down at the screen and quickly dismiss the call, but not before Zoe is able to catch a glimpse of it. “So he’s just calling for the hell of it, huh?” she asks, grinning.

  I glare at her before looking away. “Are you blushing, Ells?” she asks gleefully.

  “Shut. Up.”

  “Yeah, right. Because you never said a word when I started dating Taylor.”

  “I’m not dating him,” I say, fed up. Luckily Betsy appears with our food. She hangs out at the table for a few minutes, asking me about my new job, before she’s called off to another table. Hoping the interruption will have had the effect of changing the subject, I bite into my burrito.