by Kiki Swinson
“Yeah, what kind of hot shit you supposedly just bought?” I added while I worked a perm into my client’s hair.
Nikki picked up a Neiman Marcus bag and pulled out a seven-hundred-dollar sleeveless white MaxMara asymmetrical strap blouse and a four-hundred-twenty-dollar white fitted pencil skirt by Christian Dior. “What y’all think?” she asked as she held both pieces of clothing next to her body.
“I like it,” I commented.
“Yeah, that shit is hot!” Carmen interjected.
I continued to stare at the outfit. “What kind of shoes are you wearing?”
Nikki replaced her top and skirt back into the bag and removed a shoebox from another Neiman Marcus bag. “I’m going to wear these.” She removed the lid and pulled out a pair of three-inch, silver, Christian Dior T-strap sandals.
“Damn! Those sandals are vicious as hell! How much did you pay for them?” Carmen practically drooled over the shoes.
“Yeah, how much were they?” I wanted to know.
“Six hundred,” Nikki replied proudly.
Not knowing how to respond, I just stood there with a look of uncertainty on my face. Nikki said, “Why are you looking like that?” Her tone was defensive.
“I’m just trying to figure out why you went out and spent all that money for some stuff you’re only going to wear one time?”
“Simply because I wanted to, so I did it,” Nikki snapped.
I tried to remain calm in the face of Nikki’s stupidity. “OK, and that’s fine. But don’t you think you probably went just a little overboard?” I tried to get her to see it my way, because that couple hundred grand she snatched up before we left VA was bound to be gone any day if she kept throwing it away on shit like that.
Nikki immediately took offense and abruptly stuffed her shoes back into their box. “Do I say that to you when you go into Saks and drop twenty-two hundred on a Chloe bag, or fifteen hundred on a Marc Jacobs dress?”
“No, you don’t. And that’s only because you know I can afford to do that.”
“So, you’re saying I can’t?” Nikki was visibly upset. The other stylists and clients in the salon were silent as they watched our argument with avid interest.
“No, I’m not saying that.” I tried to answer in a way that would prevent an argument from starting, but it didn’t work.
“So, what are you saying then?” Nikki threw the shoebox back into the shopping bag. “Because it sounds to me like you can’t stand to see me have anything.”
I felt my headache start to return. “Come on, now, Nikki! You are really blowing this out of proportion. And right now is not the time for it, especially around the customers. Can we drop it, please?” I returned my attention back to my client’s hair.
“Yeah, you would want to drop it right after you get the last word.” Nikki snatched her bags from her station and took them back into the office.
I ignored her childish behavior and let her carry her ass so I could continue servicing my client. I was definitely going to have a talk with her later about her behavior. I mean, how dare she attempt to suggest that I didn’t want to see her with anything, like I was hating on her or something! Was she kidding me? I could clearly dance circles around her with the money and the wardrobe I had. I was the original trendsetter. Nikki didn’t know a thing about wearing Gucci handbags with the shoes to match, nor had she ever worn a ten-thousand-dollar mink coat until she borrowed mine. She’d better get her act together before I pulled her coat and brought her ass back down to reality.
Several hours passed and Nikki limited her conversation with me as much as possible. The only time she said something to me was when I had a phone call on the salon phone, or if she needed to make change for my clients, and I was fine with that. She had a lot of conversation for Carmen and Rachael, my other stylist, though.
Rachael was the youngest of us all, and she sure knew how to run her mouth. She was married, and was a fair-looking girl in her early twenties who loved to wear her hair in microbraids. She kind of favored the R&B singer Brandy, but if you told her to sing something, she wouldn’t be able to carry a note to the front door. If you ever wanted to know about anybody’s business, nine times out of ten, Rachael had the scoop. That was why when she asked me questions about my personal life back in VA, I shut down her nosey ass. I simply told her that the life I lived back in Virginia wasn’t any of her business. “Oh, my bad! I apologize,” she said. But I told her that there was no need for an apology, because now she knew where I stood when it came to my personal life, so we shouldn’t have that problem again. So far we hadn’t.
I couldn’t say the same for Nikki, because Rachael kept Nikki running her mouth about her business. Even though seventy percent of what Nikki told her was a lie, the fact remained that Nikki entertained Rachael’s nosiness, and when Nikki least expected it, those very same lies were going to come right back and blow up in her face. I couldn’t wait for that day, because when it came, I was going to laugh my ass off.
Meanwhile, we got a surprise visit from a short, white, middle-aged woman carrying a clipboard and a dozen red roses in a crystal vase. “May I help you?” I asked her.
“I have a delivery for Kira,” she replied.
Shocked by this unexpected delivery, I stepped forward and said, “That’s me.” I was racking my brain trying to figure out who the hell could have sent me flowers. I hadn’t been on a date since I’d been in Houston, and I hadn’t met anyone, so who were these flowers from? I cradled the flowers in my left arm while I signed the delivery form, thanked the woman, and tipped her ten bucks before she made her exit. Immediately after she left I rushed back to my station, set down the vase, and grabbed the little pink-and-white card from the plastic guard.
“I wonder who sent me these flowers?” I asked aloud.
“Stop fronting, Kira. You know who sent them,” Rachael interjected.
While I attempted to open the card, I smiled bashfully. “I swear, I do not know who sent this.” My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I read the card.
Rachael and Carmen both rushed to my side. “Who sent it?” they both wanted to know.
Nikki didn’t utter one word. She sat in her chair with her arms folded, I guess waiting for me to unveil the mystery of who sent me the roses. I looked at Rachael and Carmen and said, “Fatu.”
Nikki jumped straight out of her seat. “Fatu?” she repeated incredulously.
I smiled at her. “That’s what the card said.”
“Who is Fatu?” Carmen asked.
“Yeah, who is he?” Rachael chimed in.
Before I could answer them, Nikki rushed over and grabbed the card out of my hands. “He’s the brother of this guy I met last night,” she blurted out. Her attitude was back in effect. After she read the card, she placed it on my station instead of putting it back into my hands.
“Oh shit! Kira’s got a new man,” Carmen teased.
“No, I do not,” I protested.
“Well, tell us how he looks,” Rachael suggested.
I shrugged. “I can’t really tell you because it was dark. Plus, he was sitting in the car when Nikki’s friend introduced him to me.”
“Well, did y’all get to talk?” Rachael pestered.
“No. All I did was say hi.”
Carmen put her hands on her hips and said, “You mean to tell us that all you did was said hi to this cat, and he went out and had a dozen red roses delivered to you?”
I nodded. It may have sounded strange, but it was true.
Carmen shook her head. “Well, that’s kind of hard to believe.”
“Ask Nikki. She was there.”
Carmen and Rachael turned to Nikki, who had returned to her chair. “Is she telling the truth or what?” Rachael asked.
Nikki sighed heavily, as if she really didn’t want to be bothered. She reluctantly said, “She ain’t lying.”
Satisfied, Rachael directed more questions at me. “Well, did he write anything in the card besides his
name?”
“Yes.” I smiled.
“Well, what did he say?”
“Yeah, tell us what it said,” Carmen added.
I blushed. “All he said was that I was beautiful, and he hoped that I enjoyed the roses.”
“Did he put his number in there?” Carmen pressed.
“Nope.”
“So how are you going to call and thank him?”
“Yeah, that would be nice,” Rachael added.
“The only way I would be able to get in contact with him is if Nikki called his brother.”
Rachael and Carmen both turned and looked at Nikki.
Nikki snapped, “What y’all looking over here for?”
“Girl, don’t play stupid!” Rachael replied. “Pull out that Blackberry and call your friend, so Kira can thank his brother for the roses.”
Judging by Nikki’s expression, she looked like she wanted to tell both of them to mind their business for once, but thank God she decided to hold her tongue, because I wasn’t in the mood to hear another negative word come out of her mouth. I was sure that everyone else, including the clients, felt the same way. When Nikki retrieved her phone from her handbag, Rachael, Carmen, and I stood there in amazement as Nikki mustered up a fake smile and made the call to Bintu.
“Hi, Bintu, this is Nikki. Are you busy?” she asked him. He must’ve said no and asked her what was up, because she immediately went into a spiel about my special delivery from Fatu, and that the only reason she was making this call was because I wanted to thank him. A few seconds later, Nikki looked at me and said, “Write down this number.”
I found an ink pen inside my appointment book. “Go ’head.”
“It’s 713-555-1021.”
After that she turned her chair around for privacy and continued to chat with Bintu. I noticed her voice changed to a sexy tone, and then she giggled like she was just the sweetest thing in the world. I had to hand it to her, she sounded like she could work for a phone sex company. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, and I really didn’t care, so I used the shop’s phone to dial the number Nikki had just given me. Surprisingly, my heart started beating faster. I didn’t understand why, because it wasn’t like I was nervous about speaking to this guy. I mean, I didn’t have anything to prove to him. I took a deep breath and listened to the phone ring. After three rings, he finally answered.
“Hello, am I speaking with Fatu?” I asked while Carmen and Rachael practically stared down my throat.
“Yes, you are,” he replied.
“Well, I’m Kira. The one you sent the roses to. I just called to say thank you.”
“Oh, you are so very welcome! And I hope you enjoy them.”
“I will.”
“Are you coming to our white party tonight?”
“Well, I plan to if I can get out of here on time.”
“Well, please do, because I would love to see your beautiful face again.”
I blushed again. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“No, I’m serious. You are a very beautiful woman. I talked about you all the way to the nightclub last night. And when Bintu came into my office and told me that you weren’t married, I got really excited and thought it would be a good idea to make a more formal introduction of myself by sending you the flowers.”
“Do you send roses to every beautiful woman you run into?”
“Oh no! Of course not! I see beautiful women all the time, but there was just something about you that stuck out more so than the rest of them.”
“I’m sure,” I commented.
“So, is there anything I can say or do to make sure you come out tonight?”
“No. You don’t have to do anything,” I assured him.
“Does that mean you’re coming?”
I hesitated for a few seconds because I didn’t want to give him the impression that I was pressed to come out to his function. “What time does this party start?”
“Nine.”
“Well, I might be a little late, because my last client probably won’t be leaving out of here until seven-thirty. And then on top of that, I’m gonna have to go by the mall to find something white, and that’ll probably take me about an hour or so to do. And then I’m going to have to run home to take a shower so I can change, and then I’ll be able to head your way.”
“Can I make a suggestion?” Fatu asked.
“Sure.”
“Would you mind if I sent my personal shopper over to your place of business, so you wouldn’t have to make that extra trip out to the mall?”
I knew I didn’t hear him right. “Your what?”
“My personal shopper,” Fatu repeated.
“And what would this person do?”
“There’s a woman my brother and I use to do our personal shopping for us. She works for Saks Fifth Avenue. If you’re up for it, I can have her come to you with a large selection of clothing, and that way, you wouldn’t have to go out.”
Shocked by his generous gesture, I asked him how much this service would cost.
“Not to worry! My brother and I spend an awful lot of money there, so they would do this small favor as a courtesy. Tell me, who are your two favorite designers?”
Oh, my God! Was this nigga serious? Was he really going to send his personal shopper to my shop with a shitload of clothes so I could pick out something to wear that night? I mean, damn! I had plenty of cats take me to Bergdorf Goodman, as well as all the other expensive-ass stores to spend a lot of dough on me, but I never had one of them call a store and have one of the store’s representatives bring their merchandise to me. Today I was going to find out how that felt.
After I thought for a few moments, I lied and told Fatu that Vera Wang and Heidi Weisel were my favorite designers. I hadn’t ever owned a thing from either of them. Prada, Dior, Gucci, and Roberto Cavalli were my favorite designers, and I had a closet full of clothes to prove it. Now that I was about to add Vera and/or Heidi to my collection, I was going to be one bad bitch for real!
Fatu and I ended our conversation shortly after I gave him my dress and shoe sizes. I made sure to tell him how thankful I was that he’d go through so much trouble to make sure I had something to wear that night.
“Believe me, it’s no problem,” Fatu assured me before we said goodbye. I had literally just hung up the telephone when Carmen damn near jumped into my arms.
“Did I just hear you give this man your dress and shoe sizes?” Her eyes were filled with excitement.
I smiled and nodded.
“Don’t smile. Spill the beans! Tell us what’s going on,” Carmen insisted.
“Yeah, tell us what he said,” Rachael added.
I sat in my chair and looked over to see what Nikki was doing. She was still on the phone with Bintu. I huddled the girls in closer and spoke in a low whisper. “When I told him that I was going to be late to his party because I still hadn’t had a chance to go out and buy something white, he insisted that I let him send a personal shopper from Saks over here with a couple of racks of clothes so I could do my shopping while I’m working.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” Rachael exclaimed. “You mean to tell me that this man is getting someone from Saks to come all the way over here with some clothes so you can pick out something to wear tonight?”
“Yep,” I said proudly.
“Now, that’s some fly shit!” Rachael nodded in approval.
“You sure ain’t lying about that,” Carmen commented. “Because I didn’t know that stores like that would send their merchandise out so that regular customers could shop away from the store. I knew they did it for celebrities, or people who got plenty of money.”
“Well, I guess Fatu is one of those people with plenty of money,” Rachael concluded with a smile.
“Yeah, it seems that way,” I agreed.
“It sure does. But what I want to know is, what time can we expect the clothes to get here? I’m dying to see what kind of stuff he’s going to send.”
Carmen looked at her watch with impatience.
“I can’t wait to see what comes through that door, either.”
I sat back and imagined how everything was going to go down when the personal shopper came strolling through the door. I also envisioned how Nikki was going to react. She had already started hating when she found out that Fatu had the roses delivered to me, so I knew she was going to be devastated when she saw that he’d spent some serious dough to get a personal shopper from Saks to bring me something to wear to his party. What was really going to be special was Nikki’s facial expression while I went through a rack of designer clothing right here at my place of business, courtesy of my new friend Fatu. She was going to be hating her ass off, and I was going to love every minute of it.
I continued to service my clients while I waited for my clothes to arrive. It didn’t seem like I had to wait that long because after I got the next two clients out of my chair, I received a call from a young woman named Ashley, telling me that she was outside the shop with a service van filled with Saks merchandise, but she had nowhere to park. I told her I would be out in a minute to assist her. I grabbed my car keys from my handbag and asked Rachael to run outside with me, since Carmen was busy doing a sew-in for one of her clients. Nikki was still sitting in her chair, this time going over some receipts, so I left her right where she was.
When Rachael and I got outside we saw a white commercial van doubled-parked beside my car, which was parked directly in front of the shop. I walked up to the van and introduced myself to the driver, and told her that I was going to move my car around the corner so she could take my spot. Rachael would help her carry all the merchandise into the salon.
“Oh, thank you!” the woman said in relief. I pulled out of the parking space and let her pull into it.
After driving around the block twice, I finally found a parking space. Even though it was one-third of a mile from the shop, I didn’t care, because I figured that what I was about to experience was going to be well worth the walk. And guess what? It truly was. That young white girl had my shop laid out with shit. She had three racks of clothes placed in the center of my lounge area. All the clothing items were white, neatly pressed, and hung on wooden hangers. I watched in amazement as Ashley sorted every single piece, including a dozen boxes of shoes. I could see all of the name brands of the shoes she brought out for me to choose from. The red Jimmy Choo box stuck out like a sore thumb, so I especially wanted to see those first.
