Cut Short

by Julia Wolf

  “Nice to meet you too, Marco. This is my friend Frannie. She’s a fabulous stylist, but today she’s going to be playing my assistant.” I glanced around the bustling backstage. “Is my model here?”

  When I looked back at Marco, he’d moved close to Frannie, making eyes at her. He must be a confident man because in her heels Frannie had a good six inches on him. I couldn’t imagine she would succumb to his charms, but then again, she liked to keep me guessing.

  “Frannie, so very nice you are here today. You can’t possibly be a stylist, you must be a model,” he said as he checked her out thoroughly.

  “Oh, aren’t you a flirt?” Frannie said with a wink. “I’m all business right now though, Marco. I’m here to help my girl Rachel. Talk to me after the show and we’ll see.” Marco guffawed loudly, maybe sensing a kindred spirit.

  “Rachel, this angel is your model today. Meet Hailey.” Marco introduced us to a brunette sitting in a folding chair, her legs bouncing up and down. She couldn’t have been much older than eighteen and looked incredibly nervous about what I planned to do to her hair.

  “Hi, Hailey, I’m going to take good care of you today.” I ran my hands through her waist-length hair.

  “Before you got here, another model ran by, full-on sobbing,” Hailey said. “They gave her blue bangs and platinum blonde hair. Please don’t do that to me!”

  It was true, sometimes hair models ended up with crazy cuts and colors for the sake of drama on the stage. I, on the other hand, preferred to produce beautiful hair that both wowed the crowd and made my model happy. I tried to reassure her.

  “That is not my style at all! Don’t even worry about it. I’ve got you, Hailey,” I said.

  I ran my hands through her hair, formulating my plan. The hair color company that had hired me wanted me to use a specific technique to color my model’s hair, so I had some constraints, but I could use my own judgement too. Hailey’s hair was without a doubt too long, so I would definitely be cutting several inches off. It was heavy as hell too, so layers were a must to lighten it up. I would be adding several different shades of color to her hair, both with foils and painting freehand.

  After I went over the plan with Frannie, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. This was big. This was huge. I had worked for a long time, building up to this moment. I wanted to soak in every second of it so I could pull out this memory and bask in it on bad days.

  I opened my eyes and looked at Frannie. She smiled and gripped my hand. We were ready.

  Once on stage, I embodied my Fierce Diva Hairstylist persona. All my nerves were gone, and I was fully present. The bright lights shining on me didn’t make me melt. If anything, I felt empowered under them.

  A large crowd had gathered to watch, and I could feel their full attention on me as I extolled the product I was going to be using.

  With a brush, foil, and four different shades of color ranging from honey to coffee, I showed the crowd how to do a multi-dimensional coloring technique. I painted the lightest shade around the front of her head, then switching to foil, applied the rest of the colors throughout her hair. The different colors would give Hailey’s hair depth and movement, instead of the flat brown she had when she came on stage.

  Frannie assisted me by handing me the foils, moving the color bowls around, and explaining to the audience what I was doing while I concentrated on my work.

  After rinsing Hailey backstage, I brought her back out to demonstrate a cutting technique. I cut off five inches from her length and it still hit well below her bra strap. Then I added layers all over. I could feel the nervousness vibrating off her, but I really hoped she’d be happy with what I’d done.

  My goal was to give her beautiful hair and show the audience a way to achieve it that they hadn’t seen before. I felt confident I had accomplished both.

  When her hair was finished, Hailey did her model thing, strutting down the runway. She came back, grabbed my hand, and we did another swagger down the catwalk together.

  I turned to the crowd and waved, “Thank you guys for watching my demo. I’m so happy to be in this space full of creative people who love doing hair as much as I do! I’m Rachel Sachs, come see me at Salon 410 in Tiber City, Maryland. It’s been a pleasure!” I blew kisses to the audience as loud rock music played, and then we headed backstage.

  “Oh my goodness, my hair…” Hailey said as she saw herself for the first time in a mirror backstage. She trembled, her hand covering her open mouth.

  “I just love it, Rachel. Thank you so, so much!” She stood up to give me a hug.

  “Phew, you had me nervous there for a second.” I squeezed her back. “I’m so glad you like it!” She thanked Frannie too, then said goodbye.

  I may have been floating. It certainly didn’t feel like my feet touched the ground.

  Never had I had such an adrenaline rush as I did out on that stage. I truly was Fierce Diva Hairstylist. Now, maybe I needed to add “Rock Star” to the title.

  I turned to Frannie and whisper-yelled, “Frananas, we did it!”

  “I know, we were so awesome!” She had a massive smile splitting her face.

  We joined hands and jumped up and down, squealing.

  Letting go of her hands, I broke into the Cabbage Patch, and sang out, “I cut hair, I’m a rock star, I don’t care who you are, I’ll cut your hair in a car...okay, I lost my rhyme,” I laughed.

  “Girlfriend, this calls for a chest bump!” We bounced our boobs off each other, and laughed even harder.

  “Oh my god. Get control of yourself, Frannie, you’re a trained professional!”

  “Me? You’re the one doing the Cabbage Patch in public!” We collapsed into each other with laughter.

  “I’m over the top elated I got to share that surreal experience with you, my friend.” I squeezed her hand.

  “Me too. You were awesome. I feel like I learned something even though I knew what you were going to do!”

  I laughed again. It wasn’t even funny, but I was just so happy.

  Marco had snuck up between us, putting his arms around our shoulders. He had surprisingly long arms for someone so short.

  “Ladies, ladies, beautiful work out there,” he said. “You did the company proud. You will come back next year, right? As a matter of fact, let’s get you booked to do our Baltimore show. You can’t say no to that, right? It’s practically right in your own backyard!”

  I turned toward him, shrugging his hand off me in the process. “I’ll have to think about it when I’m not on a performance high. But that was really fun, thanks for giving me the opportunity. I’m flying so high, I could go out and cut a thousand heads of hair!”

  “I’m down for main stage work anytime, Marco. You have my number,” Frannie cooed, getting her flirt on.

  “I do have your number, pretty lady, and I’m not afraid to use it!”

  Marco then spoke to both of us more seriously. “The two of you are a power team. We would be overjoyed to work with you again. Please let me know ASAP about the Baltimore show, okay?” We told him we would, and he walked away to talk to another stylist. I saw Frannie watching him go, seemingly riveted.

  “That little guy has a fine ass.” She eyed his behind with a mischievous glint in her eye.

  “I didn’t think he was your type,” I said. “I thought you were more into the Beardo type, you know, big and burly?”

  “Rachel, you should know by now I don’t have a type. I go wherever my sails take me, and right now, I feel the wind blowing in his direction,” she said saucily.

  I snorted. “I have a feeling he wouldn’t mind you blowing in his direction at all.”

  “Do you mind if I go see if he’s down? I know we talked about walking around the show together…”

  “Go! I’ll check out the show and you can text me when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I pushed her shoulder. “Yes, go! Have fun! I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  From th
e heated look Marco gave Frannie when she approached him, I had a feeling she would be busy for the rest of the night.

  Fifteen

  When I pushed through the doors to the exhibit hall, I stood there for a moment, glancing around, deciding which direction I should head first. As I looked to the left, my eyes brushed over a tall man standing against the wall, and I did a double take.

  “Joe?”

  He looked in my direction, and when his eyes met mine, he shot me one of his knee-liquefying grins. Realizing it really was him and my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, I practically ran the short distance between us. He held his arms out and I fell right into them.

  “What are you doing here?” I buried my face in his shoulder instead of my favorite spot on his chest since I had on sky-high heels.

  He said next to my ear, “I told you that you sold me on this hair show. I had to see it for myself. I watched you do your show, Rachel.”

  I leaned back to look at his face. He smiled softly at me.

  “Am I being a creep again?”

  I laughed. “No, not creepy, I’m just really surprised. What did you think?” Even though I had been flying high a minute ago, now I was apprehensive of his reaction. David had never been to a hair show, and I wouldn’t have thought to ask him.

  “I had no idea what to expect, but damn, sweet girl, you were amazing. I actually didn’t recognize you until you started talking. You were like a goddess up there! Is there a goddess of hair? I think you might be it.”

  “Goddess might be a slight exaggeration, Joe.” I felt my cheeks heat up.

  He shook his head. “Nope, I don’t exaggerate. You held the audience in the palm of your hand, me included.”

  “Well, thank you then. I felt really good out there. I’m sorry to disappoint you though, I only dress like this on stage.” I gestured to my all-black outfit.

  Joe smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful right now, but I like the way you normally look better. It wasn’t about what you were wearing though, it was the way you commanded the audience’s attention with your confidence and humor. You clearly know your shit, too. I’m blown away by how truly talented you are! I don’t even think I can express how proud I am. You’re really something, Rachel Sachs.”

  “You’re sweet, Joe Silver. It really means a lot to me that you came here.” I pressed one of his hands between mine. Instead of letting go, he wove our fingers together and he held my hand securely in his.

  “Where are we going next?” He surveyed the massive hall.

  My brows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

  He looked down at me. “Don’t you want to walk around?”

  I searched his face. “Do you?”

  “Yeah, I do. This place is sensory overload and I kind of love it. Lead the way.”

  And just like that, with my hand in his, any barriers I had put up to protect my heart crumbled into little bits. I had been able to fool myself into thinking I wasn’t falling hard for him when we were apart, but I knew then I was a goner.

  Joe held on tight as we walked through the aisles together. I barely focused on the booths we passed because Joe’s hand holding mine was the only thing I could think about.

  Joe stopped abruptly in front of a booth. “Holy shit, three hundred dollars for scissors?”

  I gasped. “Never call them scissors! They’re shears.”

  Joe held his free hand up. “Sorry, I didn’t realize ‘scissors’ was offensive.”

  I laughed. “It’s not, but these beauties are shears.” I ran my finger over the shiny stainless steel. “And three hundred dollars isn’t too bad. I have a pair that’s twice that.”

  Joe’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.” He shook his head.

  “Yeah, they’re expensive, but they cut hair like butter. I do have to be extra careful not to nip my fingers, though. I have lots of little scars from my early days.”

  He lifted my left hand up to examine it. He traced his fingertips over each of mine, pausing over every small white scar. Our eyes met and when he leaned in to kiss my index finger, somehow my whole body felt his lips. I shivered and started walking again.

  “Rachel, what is that?” Joe stopped again, this time pointing to a waving iron. It was essentially an eighties crimper that had been rebranded.

  “This is our latest cutting-edge product,” the woman working the booth said. “It creates the most beautiful waves in seconds. Would you like me to try it on you?” She looked between Joe and me. I started to say no, but Joe nodded enthusiastically, so I found myself agreeing to it.

  “Wonderful! Come sit here and we will transform your hair in minutes!”

  Joe circled around the woman, completely caught up in watching what she was doing to my hair. I had a feeling I would wind up looking ridiculous when she finished with me, but Joe had seemed so excited, I just couldn’t say no.

  After a few more minutes of spraying hairspray and squeezing my hair in the crimper, the woman proclaimed, “Voila! No more boring straight hair!” She looked pleased with the job she’d done, flashing a mirror in front of me too fast for me to really see my reflection. “You look fabulous, my darling. Our cutting-edge wave iron is only two hundred ninety-five dollars. How many would you like for your salon?”

  Even though her sales technique was pretty impressive, I told her I had to think about it.

  As we walked away, Joe stayed quiet. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but when I looked at him, he frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” I smoothed a hand down my freshly crimped hair. The booth woman had shellacked it with so much hairspray, it barely moved.

  “Rachel, can that be undone?” He pointed to my hair. He looked almost scared.

  “Is it bad? Because this is permanent…” I was teasing him because he looked so adorably worried.

  “I’m so sorry I made you do that!” He looked genuinely tortured.

  I finally put him out of his misery. “Joe, I’m kidding! I’ll wash my hair when I get back to my hotel and I’ll be back to normal.” His shoulders sagged with relief and he ran his hands through his hair.

  “Oh, thank fuck.” He whooshed out a long sigh. “Honestly, Rachel, she gave you poodle hair!” I laughed and patted his chest. He caught my hands in his and held them there for a long moment before letting go. I sucked in a breath. His hands clutching mine between us warmed me down to my toes.

  I cleared my throat, and asked, “Are you ready to get out of here? I need to go back to my hotel to change and wash the gallons of hairspray out of my hair.”

  “Oh, do you want to meet at the restaurant or…” he trailed off, looking at me.

  Tugging on a piece of my unmovable hair, I said, “If you want, you could come with me to my room and hang out while I change. I don’t really know my way around the city, so I’d rather just stick together if you don’t mind waiting for me.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t mind at all.”

  “Okay.” I pulled my phone from my back pocket. “Let me just text Frannie and see if she wants to catch a cab with us.”

  Me: Hey, Frananas, ready to go?

  Her: I’m going to hang with Marco. I saw you walking with Joe...holding hands!

  Me: I know! OMG, don’t let me make a fool of myself.

  Her: You won’t. Have fun, sweetie.

  Me: You too. Text me when you get back to the hotel so I know you’re good.

  Her: Will do.

  I put my phone away and looked at Joe. “She’s going to stay for a while, so we’re good to go.” As we walked toward the exit, Joe snagged my hand with his again, rubbing his thumb back and forth over my skin. Until that point, I hadn’t known my hand could be an erogenous zone, but his calloused thumb might as well have been rubbing circles directly between my legs based on the fire he’d ignited in my body.

  We let go of each other when we climbed in the cab, but sitting so near to him had me on edge. I stared out the window to try to calm myself and enjoy t
he time I had with my “friend.” Were we just friends? I wasn’t sure what was happening between us, at least from his side. I knew I was ready to crawl all over him and have my way with him, preferably multiple times.

  “I missed you, sweet girl.”

  I faced him and sighed. He gave me a small, sweet smile I couldn’t help but return. Just looking at his handsome face up close gave me the feeling of being suspended in that split second of stepping over a ledge, not quite sure if my body would fall or fly. I had a suspicion if Joe and I were ever really together, I'd fucking soar.

  “I missed you too, Joe. Why did we wait so long to see each other?”

  “That pesky distance and life getting in the way.”

  “We’ll do better,” I promised.

  “Yeah, we will,” he said quietly.

  He held my hand for the rest of the short cab ride, thumb rubbing and rubbing. If there were such a thing as hand fucking, we were doing it. Just the simple act of his hand holding mine had me wet and achy. I shuddered when I thought of his big, warm hands all over my body.

  Through the lobby and on the elevator, Joe held onto my hip. I squirmed, almost out of my mind aroused by the feeling of his hand on me. My arousal had snuck up on me during the hair show, and now, every little point of contact sent a zap straight to my core.

  Once we got to my hotel room, Joe parked himself on the small loveseat while I gathered my things for the shower.

  “I’ll try to be quick!”

  “No rush, I’m good here.” He smiled and turned on the TV. I stood in the doorway of the bathroom to take him in one last time. He looked so big sitting on the compact couch, his long legs spread apart, the very definition of manspreading. If he’d been sitting like that next to me on a plane, I would have kicked him, but on my little couch, he looked sexy as hell. A small part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and straddle him right then and there, but I managed to pull myself away even though my body cried out for him.