by Harlow James
“Yeah, it does grow fast,” I say on a chuckle. “So peek-a-boo strands would be perfect.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let me go mix up your color.” She rests her hand on my shoulder and gives it a slight squeeze before walking away and through a door in the back to mix up the products.
I take that moment to let out the breath I was holding and remind myself that this doesn’t have to be awkward. Selena seems like a confident and pleasant woman, although she definitely has an edge to her, the same edge I’ve seen in Javi. And even though she said she wants to talk, that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m facing a hardcore little sister inquisition. She could just genuinely want to get to know each other, which I’m not opposed to one bit.
My eyes veer around the salon once I see her disappear, appreciating what she’s created here—a successful business that seems to be flourishing.
Rejuvenation Salon and Day Spa is bustling with patrons, even at five-thirty at night. The dark gray flooring and white washed walls covered in ship lap give it an airy and bright ambiance, crisp, clean, and fitting for a spa atmosphere. There are little pops of green everywhere in the décor and from plants strategically placed around the main room. Several hallways break off from the largest room in the building where the hair dressers work and a few nail ladies sit at their desks, serving their clients. One hallway is labeled for the estheticians, another for the massage therapists, and the last for the washrooms and restrooms. All of the employees are dressed in light gray shirts and black slacks, blending a look between casual and business attire.
As I wait for Selena to return, I grab my phone from between my legs where I tucked it when I sat down and open up my messages, responding to Ally’s rant about what her children did that day. Apparently Taryn threw up in the pool during her swim lessons and the entire pool had to be evacuated and shocked with chlorine. Oh, dear. Poor Ally.
While my fingers fly past the keys assuring her that this will be a hilarious story she can use later to embarrass her daughter, a conversation to my left pulls my attention that way.
“Well, I’m just surprised by how elegant this place is, given that Montes girl owns it.” The older woman with platinum blonde hair leans closer to her friend who’s sitting beside her at another nail station. The two women are both getting full sets of fake nails and gossiping like hens while doing so.
“She’s not a Montes anymore. Didn’t she marry that black guy that owns that boxing gym?”
“Oh, yes. I think you’re right.”
Wow. These women are flapping their jaws about the owner right in front of her employees. Those girls must be biting their tongues to prevent from berating their customers.
“Well, you know about her brother, don’t you?”
The mention of Javi makes my ears perk up, so I lean in slightly to listen closer. I know I shouldn’t feed into the gossip, but perhaps these women know something about Javi that I don’t. Of course, there’s a ton of information I don’t know about him, so I can’t help my curiosity.
“No. What about him?”
“I heard he did time in prison,” she whispers while widening her eyes, smacking her lips after she drops that bomb.
“You know what, I think I heard that too. At least the sister has half a brain to own a successful business. Shame that people like them can’t just learn how to be productive citizens of society.” The second woman shakes her head just as the employee does something to make her shriek.
“Ow! Be careful!” The woman chastises just as the employee apologizes, but not before shooting her neighbor a smug look. Good for her for putting that woman in her place through a small act of torture.
But then the words she spoke hit me like a brick.
Javi went to prison? For what? Does that mean that the parole officer that showed up at the gym was for him? My gut warned me that could have been the case, but my head didn’t want to believe it.
If what the woman said is true, what did he do time for? How long was he in there?
A barrage of questions starts running through my mind, but just as I try to listen further, Selena returns with two dishes full of hair dye.
“Alright. You ready?”
“Uh huh,” I stutter before clearing my throat and slapping a smile on my face to hide the chaos those women just instigated in my mind.
“So, how long have you and my brother been friends, Sydney?” Selena eyes me in the mirror with a knowing grin on her face while securing sections of my hair off with clips.
Okay then, getting right to the point.
“Well, it took a while to wear him down. It might come as a surprise, but your brother wasn’t my biggest fan back in high school, or even after we ran into each other at The Jameson.”
Selena chuckles while beginning to paint my hair. “I believe you were the one that ran into him.”
“Ha. Yeah, I was slightly inebriated that night.”
“No shame in that. We all need to let loose every once in a while.”
“Well, we just kept running into each other, especially after I signed up for the self-defense class at the gym, although he was less than enthusiastic about seeing me. He was quite the ass if I’m being honest. But eventually, I don’t think he had the willpower to push me away anymore. I can be quite persuasive.” Asking him to fuck me so the sexual tension between us could finally be released was definitely the most persuasive thing I’ve ever done.
“It seems that’s true. So, how did you like the class?” Selena’s eyes meet mine in the mirror again, and her entire demeanor softens with that question.
“I loved it. At first, I hated your brother for how hard he was on me, but eventually I loved the way the exercise made me feel. And when we started practicing the moves, I felt … empowered.”
Her smile builds brightly as she nods. “I’m glad. Andre offers that class because of me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I begged him to give women an opportunity to learn how to protect themselves after I …” She trails off, her face growing sad for a moment before she reapplies the façade she seems to have perfected.
“You what?”
She shakes her head and then clears her throat. “Nothing.”
“I was attacked a few months ago. Held at gun point. That’s why I took the class.” I offer her my story so maybe she’d feel more comfortable to share hers, but it doesn’t work the way I wish.
She pauses in her movements and looks at me again. “I’m sorry that happened to you, but I’m glad you did something to make you feel more at ease.”
“Thanks.”
“My brother is a good guy, Sydney, but he has some demons he’s working through,” she says, moving the conversation back to Javi.
“I can tell. He was adamant about not letting me in or even bothering to get to know me for who I am now. But once I put him in his place and we started talking a bit more, he seemed to ease up on the animosity.”
Selena chuckles as she folds a piece of foil around my hair and continues the process. “My brother needs to be put in his place. His asshole vibe gets out of control sometimes.”
I huff out a laugh. “Don’t I know it.”
“He seems to be more relaxed since you two have been hanging out too.” Her eyes dart to mine again as she lifts a brow. Something tells me she’s aware of our little arrangement.
“Well, it goes both ways. We’ve definitely been enjoying each other’s company.”
“Be careful with him, Sydney,” she warns, sounding more like a protective sister now than just a woman I’m having a playful conversation with.
“I am.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince with that declaration—her or me.
“I’m not sure he’s ready to open himself up to more. But it’s more for you though, isn’t it?” She stands up tall and stares me down, tilting her head as she studies me.
But I can’t speak, because as I watch her watch me, the reality of her words hit me square in the chest. I
’ve been trying to fight it, but I think I know it’s been more than just sex for a few weeks now. The conversations via text, the shared glances at the gym, the lunch we just shared yesterday, the way I can’t stop thinking about him throughout the day.
Ally was right. I’m not programmed to be the girl who just does casual sex. And even though I wanted our arrangement to be just about that, it didn’t take long before that line was blurred. The man hasn’t even kissed me yet, but I know that I don’t want our relationship to end, not when I feel like it’s getting better every time we’re together.
“That’s what I thought.” She snickers and then continues coloring my hair. “So what do you do for work now, Sydney?”
Her abrupt topic change throws me for a loop for a second, but I welcome it, bypassing her first question entirely and engaging in a lighthearted conversation that leaves me feeling like Selena and I could be friends if things ever progressed between Javi and me. We spend time trading information about our lives now as she continues to place foil pieces in my hair for highlights.
She tells me more about her business and why she decided to open up on this side of town, stating that it doesn’t come without its downfalls and frustrations. We revisit some memories of high school too. Selena is two years younger than Javi, so she was a sophomore when we were seniors. Apparently she wasn’t a fan of me and my friends either—shocking, I know. But I assure her that I wasn’t a fan of those people as well.
I bring up my obsession with the television show, Friends, remembering that Javi mentioned her love for the show in an earlier conversation. That common ground provides us with many laughs through the end of my appointment, where I stand from the chair feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, and my hair looking fantastic.
“I gave you a few internal layers to give you more volume, taking off some of the weight. And the blonde peeks through everywhere, especially in the back.”
“It feels great and the color is perfect. Thank you, Selena.” I swing my hair around, enjoying how much lighter and healthier it feels.
I follow her over to the receptionist counter to pay. “Would you like to book your next appointment?”
“Absolutely. I usually go seven weeks between …”
Selena clicks around in the computer and we settle on a date.
“Sounds good. It was …” Selena sighs and then comes around the counter so we’re closer to each other. “It was nice to get to know you, Sydney. I’m sorry if I seemed a little harsh at first, but I’m just protective of my brother. Seeing you at his house the other night instantly made my defensive walls come up. He’s been through a lot, and you two …”
“I know. We’re very different.”
“Yeah. I just … the past few years have been tough on him and he’s finally getting back on his feet …” I can’t help but wonder if she’s alluding to his time in prison, if what that woman from earlier said is true.
“Believe me. I never anticipated anything ever happening between us. But now that it has …”
“Just be careful with each other. All I see is someone getting hurt, and it might just be both of you in some way.”
I reach out and grasp her upper arm in a soft embrace. “Javi is lucky to have someone like you in his life, someone who truly cares about him but also understands that he can make his own decisions. Whatever happens between us, I hope that doesn’t affect his relationship with you.”
“That ass could never get rid of me.” She winks, and I can’t help but laugh at her term of endearment for her brother.
“Thanks for tonight, Selena. This was nice.”
“Surprisingly … yes it was.” She pulls me in for a brief hug and then we say our goodbyes.
As I drive home that evening, I wonder what it would be like if Javi and I extended our arrangement beyond the bedroom. I would love to get closer to Selena. It’s rare that you connect with another woman so effortlessly, and that’s what it felt like with her tonight in our conversations.
But then I remember what Javi said—that he can’t offer me more than what we agreed to. I heard him loud and clear, yet part of me thinks he doesn’t even know what he’s capable of because based on the past few weeks, we’ve definitely crossed that boundary of just sex and he was the one that initiated it.
When I arrive home, I decide to text him to let him know how tonight went.
Me: I really like your sister.
Javi: Did she get you drunk so you’d agree to that?
Me: LOL NO. We talked about you mostly and seems she agrees that you can be an asshole 90% of the time.
Javi: Sounds about right. Seriously though … she didn’t give you any shit?
Me: Well, I’m pretty sure she knows about our extracurricular activities …
Javi: Yeah … she kinda put two and two together after the other night. Don’t worry, I told her it’s none of her business.
Me: She just worries about you.
Javi: I’m not a child. She doesn’t need to.
Me: It came from a good place. Listen … I was wondering …
I momentarily contemplate asking him about what I heard earlier, needing to know if it’s true. But then I think, should that be a question I ask him via text message? Wouldn’t that be more of a conversation to have face to face? Do I really need to know? Is it going to change how I feel about him, or make me want to stop seeing him?
The answer leans more toward no, even though a small part of me wants to know the truth, but I decide against pressing it further just as Javi texts me back.
Javi: Yeah …
Me: When are we gonna meet up again? ;)
Javi: You name the time, Princess. I’ll never pass up sex with you.
Something about his response has me grinning like a fool, wondering how much underlying meaning there is to his words. He seems like he cares about me beyond just using me for my body, although I gave him permission to do so. His actions are fairly contradictory for a man that’s just in this to get his dick wet. But then on the other hand, he could just be a guy that would never turn down sex. I’m pretty sure most of them are like that.
Me: I’ll be at your place tomorrow night around seven. I think I’ll just have to make some time for you this weekend ;)
Javi: Sounds like a plan. Goodnight, Sydney.
Me: Goodnight, Javi.
Chapter 21
Sydney
“Stand up straight, Sydney. We don’t want slouching spines in the pictures.” My mother speaks to me through her bleached white smile, wrapping her arm around my waist and drawing me in closer to my family. We are sandwiched between my father on her other side and my two brothers beside me.
Today is Beckett and Bentley’s college graduation at Texas A & M University, the alma mater of my father and me. The university is about a three hour drive from our home in Newberry, and any length of time in close quarters with my parents can be taxing. Surprisingly though, they weren’t as nosy or pushy as usual, which made me put my guard up instantly. Usually if there’s something we need to discuss, they’re happy to initiate the conversation almost instantaneously. But today, I feel like they’re holding back, or maybe they’re just trying to focus on my younger twin brothers.
“Forgive my sins, Mother,” I mock as she pinches my waist.
“What has gotten into you?” she whispers as the flash continues to spark.
Muttering under my breath while internally rolling my eyes, I reply, “Nothing.
Once the picture is taken by the professional photographer hired by the university, I can feel myself visibly relax.
“You look great, Syd,” Bentley says as he pulls me in for a side hug before we all disperse from the close vicinity we were just in.
“You too, Bent. Both of you. Glad to see you’ve avoided the college weight.”
“Well, with the practices we put in during the football season, it’s hard to gain too much weight,” Beckett adds. Both of my brothers played on the team for the university. To the
dismay of my father, they weren’t scouted to the NFL, but he’s still proud of the way they represented the school and the Matthews name—can’t forget about that.
“I’m proud of all of my children,” my father boasts, coming over to all of us and hugging my brothers before planting a kiss on my temple. “My boys are now ready to take on the business world, and my daughter has established herself as a powerful and professional lawyer in our community. I couldn’t ask for more successful children.”
The tears in his eyes and the look of pride on his face right now—that’s one of the reasons I’ve always done as I’ve been asked because seeing my father beam at our family, even though there are moments when he forgets we’re individuals capable of making our own decisions—those are the moments that remind me to be grateful for the life he’s given us and the solid foundation of family my mother and he have bestowed to us.
Every family has its issues and faults, and lord knows ours in no exception. But there are a lot of children in this world that don’t have two loving parents, monetary freedom, and a support system, even when at times it feels more forced than not. I love my family, I do, which is why I battle so hard between wanting to make them happy and finally standing up for myself in all aspects of my life.
We leave the campus and drive about fifteen minutes away to a restaurant my father used to frequent upon his inheritance when he lived in College Station, Texas, before he moved to Dallas and met my mother. The Republic Steakhouse screams affluence and money as soon as you walk through the wrought iron doors and are greeted with the aroma of garlic and meat. The hostess greets my father by name and finds a table for us right away as soon as our family steps through the door. Apparently he still has some pull here, even though it’s been years since he’s been back.
The dark wooden walls with golden framed mirrors bounce the light coming from the chandeliers as our hostess leads us to our table. My father pulls out a chair next to him for my mother and then another on the other side of him for me. I smile as I take my seat and unwrap my silverware from the cream-colored cloth napkin, placing it gently in my lap.
