Bitter Cuts

by Serena L'Amour

  As he opened his eyes to the light above him, the beautiful girl disappeared from his view, and the drops of water hitting the tub below came back into his range of hearing. He sighed, wanting her more in the real world after his session, but snapped back to reality and cleaned himself up, getting ready to head back to his salon.

  * * * * *

  Olivia arrived early at Bitter Cuts, and was relieved to see she was the first one there. Oh, God, she thought, as she went to turn the doorknob and discovered it had been secured, if Alexis came by and had to lock up, I'm fucked! She went inside and found an even bigger surprise: the towels that she'd left in the dryer had been taken out, neatly folded, and put away. She continued to worry and wonder if Alexis had been there then night before, but something inside told her she hadn't. She couldn't place her finger on it, but the entire vibe of the shop felt … different, like it was more hopeful and brighter than it had ever been before. Olivia wondered how the work could have been done, but was never one to question a kind act, and went about her way, preparing the salon for the others which were coming soon.

  Alexis walked in shortly after. “Good morning,” said Olivia with a smile.

  “Coffee?” asked Alexis, in a stern tone.

  “Right away,” she replied, as she went in the back to make a cup.

  “You might as well fire up the pot for the rest of the girls!” shouted Alexis. “You think you would have picked up on that by now.” Olivia returned with a mug of java for her boss. “And for fuck's sake!” continued Alexis, “Why are there no cookies for our clients?”

  “I'm sorry,” replied Olivia, “I just … “

  “You were just stupider this morning than most,” barked Alexis. “Get your fat ass into the office, draw some petty cash, and waddle down to fetch some. Can we handle that today?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” replied Olivia, biting her tongue and clinching her fists as she walked out the door towards the local bakery. As she walked slowly, she prepared herself for the harsh words that were sure to come throughout the day. But on this morning, no tears came. Like she'd felt moments before, for some odd reason, Bitter Cuts had a happier vibe to it, and as she strolled down the street, she began to imagine how things would be different if she had control of the salon, what she'd do to really make the place a success. She also started to daydream a bit about the handsome stranger, and how nice it would be if she was walking arm in arm with him, on their way to a local cafe for breakfast.

  Olivia got the order and walked out the door of the bakery. Is that his car, she asked herself, as she thought she caught a glimpse of the handsome man's speed machine. She rubbed her eyes and scanned the avenue, but the vehicle was no where to be found. I must be hung over, she laughed, as she headed back towards the salon, unaware that Mr. George Bitter was hiding inside, wanting to see for himself how things were actually run in his business.

  As she walked into the door, Alexis immediately lit into Olivia. “Jesus, it's about time!”

  “We thought you stopped to eat them on the way back,” laughed Jenna, as she leaned into one of her clients. “We don't let pigs work on the hair here.” The client laughed nervously as Jenna nodded at Alexis for her approval.

  “Don't just look at them, Olivia,” shouted Alexis, pointing to the cookies. “Put them out so others can enjoy them!”

  George stood in the back room of his salon, listening to the snarky bitches humiliate Olivia. “You know you're never going to make it in this profession if you stay that size,” said Jenna. Olivia glared at her, as Jenna had plenty of thickness of her own. “Don't even think it,” replied Jenna. “I'm Latina – it's natural for me.”

  “Don't be a fucking racist,” added T-Man. “We don't care for intolerance out here.”

  Olivia stiffened up, but managed to conjure up a smile, and nodding, she walked back to the office to put the receipts and change in the cash box. As she entered, George hid behind the doorway, not wanting to be seen just yet. Olivia continued to take the slow morning in stride, and chose to spend most of it alone in the practice room, which felt more like a prison cell than anything else. Yet, she continued about her day, and the longer she practiced, the more she entered her own world of perfect style.

  As the hours went on, George watched her perform her art, sewing tracks, coloring hair, and creating up-do's. He found her talent exceptional, better than anything he'd seen out on the floor, but it was her intoxicating smile that he couldn't get out of his mind. He couldn't figure out why Alexis hadn't given her a chair; she'd obviously be making him a lot of money. George continued to lurk about the salon, making mental notes of all the happenings in the place; he wanted to make sure what really went on here before any major changes were introduced.

  The afternoon brought more business; waxing, facials, ringing, perms, highlights and colors, and men coming in here and there for touch ups. Every time something went wrong, Olivia and her perfect smile were to blame, and the insults seemed to bear down on her more and more as the day progressed. She was strong through it all, however, and never did a complaint come from her beautiful lips, which George stole glances of throughout his time there. Just about the time Bitter Cuts was due to shut down for the day, George was extremely upset, not only because he wanted Olivia, but because no one should ever be talked to like she had been, and if it wasn't for Alexis, the girl would be raking in the cash hand over fist at the salon.

  By day's end, the stations were cluttered with styling tools, and the floor was an ocean of loose hair. There were towels thrown here and there. No one bothered to pick up after themselves, and Olivia straightened up as best she could, without receiving a single 'thank you'. The stylists were gathering their purses and counting their tips as Alexis was accounting for the day's cash flow. Just as everyone was about to walk out and leave Olivia there alone again to deal with the mess, George could take the comments and attitudes no longer. He walked out of the back office, clearing his throat and catching everyone off guard.

  “Georgie!” gushed Alexis, as she went to embrace the owner. “When did you get back in town?” George stopped her hug short, and when he told everyone to have a seat, they all complied.

  “My name is George Bitter, and I'm the owner of Bitter Cuts,” he said. The stylists all looked around at one another, and then over to Alexis and T-Man, who were standing behind the main counter, doing their best not to bring attention to themselves.

  “The owner?” asked Olivia. “I thought this place belonged to Alexis and T-Man?”

  “Contrary to popular belief, my siblings over there have simply been overseeing things while I was out of the country on business,” replied George, glaring at the two at the reception area. “And by the looks of it, they've been doing a lousy job.”

  The girls ran up to shake their boss' hand, but George was all about business. “A salon, like any good operation, runs on teamwork, from the top down to the bottom. First off, the tips will be equally divided among all staff. Secondly,” he said, turning to his dream girl, “Olivia, is it?” he asked.

  “Yes … “ she replied.

  “If anyone … anyone calls this young woman by any name besides Olivia, they'll be dismissed without pay on the grounds of unprofessional conduct.”

  Jenna huffed and rolled her eyes. “I don't care who your are, that's bullshit,” she said. “There's no way in hell I'll be sharing my tips with anyone, much less an incompetent little Midwestern troll.”

  Everyone looked away from Jenna as George began to speak. “Olivia,” he said. “Would you please gather Jenna's belongings for her? She won't be working here anymore.” The words fell like a hammer on all who could hear them. Olivia went in the back to get a box for Jenna's tools, and quickly, but carefully, placed all the items inside and waited for her by the door.

  “Georgie, be reasonable,” said Alexis, coming out from behind the counter. “Jenna's one of our best artists!”

  “If you'd like to join her in the unemployment line, Alexis, you'
re more than free to do so,” replied George. T-Man started to come to his sister's defense, but was quickly shut down. “Same goes for you, Theodore,” added George, as the girls worked hard to keep their laughter under control as T-Man's given name was revealed.

  “You're going to allow this?” said Jenna to Alexis, but Alexis had temporarily learned her place, and sat behind the counter once again, turning away from her star stylist. Jenna looked around at the others, who, like always, followed Alexis' lead and shunned her. “Whatever!” said Jenna, as she approached Olivia, still standing there with her tools.

  “Oh, and let's not forget to turn in those keys of yours, Jenna,” smiled Olivia.

  “There's more than one set of keys to my shop?” asked George, looking all around. “Cough 'em up!” he barked, as all the stylists dug into their purses for their copies.

  Jenna snatched the box from Olivia's hands. “Don't fool yourself, sweetie,” she sneered, “You're still at the very bottom of this profession!”

  “Well, maybe today I am,” she replied, “But I'm not the one that's getting kicked out of here.” As Jenna started to walk away, Olivia stopped her exit. “One more thing … sweetie … you can call yourself a Latina bombshell all you want to, but a fat ass is still a fat ass, and at least I'm beautiful where it counts.” Jenna glared once more at her before heading out for the last time.

  “Okay,” continued George. “Anyone else have anything catty to add?” The room was completely silent as he waited for a response. “Good, then let's get down to business. Bitter Cuts is losing a lot of money, and I'm pretty damned certain that several thousand dollars of product has either been given away or found a way to walk out the door. The locks to every door here will be changed, and you'll all be required to carry clear or mesh purses. Furthermore, there's no more selling of product to employees at cost, however, you'll get a fifty percent discount.” No one dared to say a word as he continued. “And there's not going to be anymore screwing around on the job. Work is work, play is play. Hours of operation are from eight in the morning to seven at night. You'll be given proper break periods throughout the day, but the rest of it, you'll be doing what you were hired to do. Anyone have a problem with that?”

  The employees, including the owner's siblings shook their head, indicating they would follow the new guidelines. “Okay then, see you all tomorrow. I'm going to grab some dinner.” George looked at Olivia and smiled. “Care to join me?” he asked. Olivia smiled as jaws dropped around the room at the notion that such a handsome and successful man would take this nobody out on the town.

  “Uh, George, little Miss Thing's still on the clock,” said Alexis, standing in the entrance.

  “Then I guess she's lucky I'm the one paying her,” replied George. “Don't push your luck with me, sis … not today.” Olivia covered her laugh with her hands, picked up her purse, and taking George's arm, headed out the door.

  * * * * *

  “George, my friend, nice to see you!” said Paolo, as Olivia and her date entered the restaurant. “And we have a guest tonight, very good indeed.”

  “Paolo, this is Olivia Foster,” said George. “Olivia, Paolo LaGana.”

  “Welcome to Bella Signora,” said Paolo, kissing Olivia's hand.

  “Translates as 'beautiful lady',” George whispered to Olivia.

  “Piacere di conoscerti, Paolo,” replied Olivia, kissing him on both cheeks, before turning to George. “Translates as 'pleasure to meet you'” she laughed. “I think Paolo is pretty much universal.”

  “Oh, how I do like this one!” laughed Paolo. “Come, come, my dear. You will have the finest meal in all of Los Angeles tonight. Paolo led the two to a table by the window which overlooked the city, and helped Olivia with her chair.

  “So you speak Italian, among your other talents?” asked George.

  “I was bored when I first arrived in California,” replied Olivia. “So I took a cooking class, and picked up a little of the language.” She took a sip of wine. “And how do you know I'm talented in other areas?”

  “Well,” said George, “I've saw you cutting and styling the mannequins. Who taught you how to do such wonderful work?”

  “I've been taking more than just cooking classes,” she replied. “I've also signed up for continuing education in cosmetology when and where I could afford it.”

  “We've always had a policy of paying for classes.”

  “First time I've ever heard about it. Besides, it's more of a pipe dream than anything else.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Olivia looked at George as if he were out of his mind. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Look at the girls around your place, and then look at me. You know I'm too fat to be a success in this business!”

  “That's bullshit. First of all, I want people in my shop who can do good work, and that's you.”

  “A girl's got to have the look to have the clients,” she replied, looking down.

  George took her by the hand and led her back to the coat room, where there was a mirror on the door. “You've got the look, Olivia,” he said, caressing her shoulders. “You've got that and a whole lot more from where I'm standing.”

  Olivia turned around and smiled. Never in her wildest dreams could she imagine a night like this, with a complimentary gentleman in a fine Italian restaurant. She went a little weak in the knees and reclined into his chest as George wrapped his arms around her. She looked deeply into the mirror at their reflection, and imagined a more intimate relationship with him. “Come on,” said George, leading her back to the table, “Fill me in on what's going on down at the salon.”

  Olivia sat back down. “So why should I trust you?” she asked. “I mean, you could have revealed yourself at anytime you wanted, but you hung around for hours over two days, letting me cry, allowing me to be insulted, and you could have stopped it at anytime you wanted. Seems a bit callow to me.”

  George leaned back in his chair. “I'm sorry for that. I've always been the type to stay in the shadows until I get all the information I need.”

  “That's a pretty lame excuse,” she replied.

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed. “I suppose I've lost some of my social graces during my time overseas. The Middle East isn't the most cordial place in the world, and it's been a little tough adjusting back to normal.”

  “So that was your business abroad,” replied Olivia, reaching for his hand. “You were in the military?”

  “For four years after Annapolis,” said George. “I trained for about a year and a half after college, and then spent two years with a SEAL unit in Iraq.”

  “Thank you so much for your service,” she said, softly. “How long have you been back?”

  “Only a few weeks,” he replied. “And I appreciate you thanking me, by the way. It's the first time I've heard those words from anyone outside the Navy.”

  “You'd think more people would show their gratitude.”

  “The war's been going on a long time, people tend to forget about us. And L.A.'s about the most ungrateful place on the face of the planet.”

  “Well, I'll certainly agree with you on that one,” she said. “But tell me about what it's like over there. Weren't you scared?”

  “I was, extremely scared, especially when I got my orders,” he replied. “But I was already at the Academy when the war started up, so there wasn't much of a question about doing time in a combat zone. You learn to deal with your fears; you do what you need to for your survival and that of your friends.”

  “I've known your brother and sister for a while now, you obviously come from a rich family … why would you risk your life when you've got luxury.”

  “We grew up in Minnesota, and believe me, it's a lot different out there than here.”

  “You're kidding!” laughed Olivia. “I'm from Wisconsin! What brought your family out this far?”

  “Alexis and Theo always wanted to come out here, and they left as soon as they got out of high school. They wanted a
life the Midwest just couldn't provide. I wanted to see something different, too, but I headed east when I graduated. We're different people, my siblings and I. They want everything handed to them, and I guess even though I grew up with money, I wanted to give a little something back to the country that allowed me and my family to live well.”

  “That's very noble, not many people would do that given the same situation. You're a hero, you know that?”

  “I don't know about that … the heroes are those who weren't as lucky as I was,” he replied.

  “Well, you're one in my eyes,” said Olivia, stroking his hand before slapping it.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Because of your antics today,” she replied. “You might be a hero, but there's still a little bit of an asshole inside.”

  “I am truly sorry,” he said, trying to contain his snicker. “Think you can forgive me one of these days?”

  Olivia rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yeah, I think that might be possible … one of these days.”

  “So tell me,” said George. “What's a Wisconsin girl doing out on the West Coast?”

  “To be honest, it's a story very similar to yours,” she replied. “I love my home, still keep in touch with my family and everything, but I suppose I wanted something different out of my life as well. I was always good at doing hair, and I wanted to practice in a city full of excitement and intrigue. Eventually, I want to do hair and make up for the movie stars. All my life, I knew I was free spirit, and I just couldn't see myself tied to a husband and life in a small town.”

  “Husband? Was there a suitor in your life?”

  “Yeah … there sure was,” she smiled. “Zachary Mitchell, childhood pal and high school sweetheart. We were the kind of couple that knew each other from kindergarten on up.”