Page 34 of Mafia And Maid
His eyes widen as he nods quickly.
“And make sure you give the bill straight to me, and don’t let her see it, or you’ll regret the fucking day you were born, got it?”
He takes a huge gulp of air and nods frantically.
With that settled, I sit down in front of my usual stylist, Derek.
Derek is what can only be described as flamboyant. He has big hair and bright clothes, but he’s one of the best stylists in the city.
Rosa sits in the chair next to me, and another stylist walks up behind her and gives her a warm smile through the reflection of the mirror. “Hey, I’m Helen. What can I do for you today?”
Rosa lifts her hand to her hair and flushes. “My hair’s a bit of a mess. I cut it myself last time, but the scissors weren’t sharp enough. And the color is fading.”
She runs her fingers through the unbecoming faded black and brown-orange. “I think this color is a little wrong on you. I could take it back to your natural blond. It’s really pretty, and most women would kill to have hair this color, you know—”
“I want to keep it black,” Rosa blurts out in the loudest voice I've heard her use since I've met her. “I…I, er, like it this color.”
“I guess it’s nice to have a change if you’ve been blond all your life, right?” Helen says with a relaxed smile.
“Right,” Rosa says quickly.
“I’ll just freshen up the color and take out the brassy orange tones, if you’d like?”
“That sounds great, thank you,” she replies softly.
“I take it I’m doing the usual for you, Camillo?” Derek asks.
“Yep,” I nod. I catch Rosa’s eye in the mirror. “I mean, why mess with perfection?”
And that makes her giggle, and it’s a sound that lifts my soul. When she laughs, it’s almost magical. Gone is the careworn woman, and in her place is a lighter, freer girl.
Helen is running an eye critically over Rosa’s hair. “To get all the uneven ends level, I’ll need to take it up into a shorter bob. The new length will be around the bottom of your ears—”
“No!” Rosa blurts out, her eyes widening. “It needs to reach my chin at least!”
Helen looks surprised, but she gives Rosa a reassuring smile. “Of course, we can keep it that long for sure. You have the sort of face that would look great with either length, but I’ll keep your hair chin-length.”
A look of relief washes over Rosa. I guess she doesn’t like her hair too short, although it’s a little strange that she doesn’t want to get all the uneven ends off.
“We should get the head massages,” I say to her. “They’re, um, divine.” I don’t know why I just said that, but I once heard a customer in the salon say this to her friend.
“Okay.” She smiles. And I can’t help smiling back at her.
We sit side by side in the reclining chairs as we get our hair washed and our heads massaged. And to my surprise, the massage feels heavenly—or maybe it’s because of the woman who’s sitting beside me.
I sneak a peek at her, her eyes closed in bliss and a smile settled on her beautiful lips.
And I realize this is the most relaxed I’ve seen her since the day I met her. I don’t know why, but she always seems as if she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
I know she’s probably just naturally timid and nervous, but sometimes, it seems like there’s something else going on with her.
My thoughts are interrupted when the massage comes to an end and we’re ushered to sit in front of the stylists.
Derek and Helen chat away as they see to our hair, and Rosa even appears to let her guard down as she talks with them.
Helen is talking away as she lifts another section of Rosa’s hair to cut. But then, Helen suddenly stills, and her unfinished sentence hangs in the air.
I look across at them. And I see that Rosa’s face is frozen in horror.