wedding date,” I tell her, stopping at a red light.
She laughs. “Is this your version? ’Cause it definitely isn’t the story Jasper’s telling.”
“Girl, whatever,” I say, laughing with her. “The point is the date is set.”
“Yeah, the point is Jasper put his foot down on that ass.” She continues laughing. “Whew. I sure got a kick outta that when he told me.”
“Whatever.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter who set the date. All that matters is that it’s finally happening. So congratulations. It’s about damn time.”
I smile. “That’s more like it. Thanks.”
“Now the real work begins. So, what’s next?”
“Well, first I gotta work on the guest list, then find a place so I can get the invitations printed up. Then I need to find a dress…” Shit, shit, shit! I have all this stuff to do, and only five months to get it all done. “…the flowers, the cake and—”
“Girl, slow down,” she says, cutting me off. She chuckles. “You don’t have to do it all yourself. That’s what you have me and Felecia for—your Matron and Maid of Honor.”
“Now who said anything about having your ugly face all up in my wedding?” I tease, laughing.
“Shit, you’re uglier than me,” she says, teasing back, “but that’s beside the point, Miss Celie. Jasper wouldn’t know ya funky-ass if it wasn’t for me so you owe me, boo.”
I’m cracking up as I turn into the salon’s parking lot. “Well, since you put it like that. I guess it’s a done deal. Find me a florist. Then see if you can get Raven the Cake Man to do my wedding cake. I want his slamming red velvet cake. I don’t have a design in mind, yet. He’s usually booked months in advance, but let him know I’m willing to pay extra if he can fit me in.”
She laughs. “Well, damn…shall I wash your feet while I’m at it, your highness?”
“No, that’ll be all for now. I’ll give Felecia her things-to-do list next.” I shut off the engine, then gather my things, getting out of the car. I glance at my watch. 8:22 A.M. “Well, let me get off this phone. I’m getting ready to walk up in the shop. Call me later with an update.”
“I swear, girl. If you turn into a Bridezilla I’m gonna set your dress and hair on fire. Speaking of dresses, do you have any idea what your colors are gonna be?” I tell her that since it’s a fall wedding I’m going to go with an ivory gown—either Valentino or Chanel; I tell her that chocolate brown will be the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses. Tell her that their floral arrangements will be pink roses, hyacinth and gloriosa lilies.
“Alright now. I like. But, remember what I said. If you turn into the Bride of Frankenstein, it’s off with your damn head.” We laugh, hanging up.
The minute I walk into the salon, I see Stax leaning on the counter talking to Felecia. He’s wearing a grey and black Nike muscle shirt and a pair of nylon sweats. The way his muscles are bulging, I can tell he’s been to the gym. Felecia stops speaking when she sees me. And it makes me suspicious. But I don’t plan on letting it occupy my thoughts today. “Hey, girl,” she says, grinning. The way she’s cheesing definitely lets me know the two of them were talking about something. I don’t know what. But whatever they were discussing, I’d bet my last hundred that it had everything to do with me.
“Hey, ya’ll,” I say.
“What’s good, Pash?” Stax says, smiling.
“Hey, girl,” Felecia says.
“Nothing much,” I say before bringing my attention back to Felecia. “Any cancellations so far?”
“Not yet. So far, it looks like it’s going to be another money-making day for us.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I say, smiling.
“I know that’s right.”
“Anything else going on?”
“Nope,” she says, adjusting her burgundy blunt-cut wig.
“You good, Pash?” Stax asks.
“I’m doing great,” I tell him. “Couldn’t be better; how about you?”
“I’m good, ma. You know how I do.”
“Mmm-hmm. That’s why I asked.”
He laughs. “Nah, it’s all good.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“You lookin’ fly as usual,” he says, running his eyes all over my body. The way he dips his voice and gazes at me when he says this causes me to nervously shift my weight from one foot to another.
I playfully roll my eyes. “Whatever. Flattery will get you no-where. What brings you by so early in the morning?”
“I was hopin’ I could holla at you for a minute.”
I glance at my watch, raising my eye, then placing a hand on my hip. “At eight-thirty in the morning? Stax please. You could have called.”
“I was over this way anyway. My gym’s not too far from here so I decided to swing by. I saw Felecia’s whip and stopped in. I know you’re usually here early. Plus Jasp wanted me to come through to make sure everything was aiight here.”
I suck my teeth, shaking my head. “I should have known. You can tell my husband-to-be that everything’s okay here.” I grab my things from off the counter. “C’mon to my office so we can talk.” I glance over at Felecia, narrowing my eyes. She shakes her head, shrugging. I walk off with Stax following behind me. The whole way to the office I can practically feel his eyes on my ass. I unlock the door, then walk in. He shuts the door behind him.
I plop my things on the sofa, then take a seat at my desk. “So what’s up?”
“My girl wanted me to holla at you to see if you could put her on.”
I raise my brow. “Put her on how?” Braiding hair here, he tells me. “Which girl?” I tease.
He grins, playfully rolling his eyes up in his head. “Oh, you got jokes, I see. Mariah; my baby’s mother. Who else?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you were talking about one of your jump offs.”
“Nah, that’s not how I do mine,” he says, eyeing me.
“That’s good to know. Umm, wait a minute. Isn’t your girl about ready to drop soon?”
“Oh, nah,” he says nonchalantly, “she lost it.” He doesn’t seem fazed by the loss. Then, again, I guess he wouldn’t be since he wasn’t beat to have another baby with her, anyway.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is she alright?”
“Yeah, she’s good.”
I’ve never really cared for Mariah. Not that I know her personally. I might have seen her three, maybe four, times—and have seen Stax out in public with her once or twice—since I’ve known him. Now I will say this about her, she’s a cute chick, and she wears some of the fliest shit. Other than that, she’s loud and obnoxious. And ghetto as hell when she’s set off, cursing and fighting. Hell, I don’t think she’s ever held down a job longer than a month or two before she’s knocking somebody in the head. Shit, I can see her now, smacking up Shuwanda for trying to come at her sideways. And the way Shuwanda runs her mouth, she’d definitely try her. “I don’t know, Stax. Your girl is a bit on the wild side, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. That’s always been one of our problems, her ass not wanting to work, or keep a job when she gets it.”
Although my first mind tells me to say hell fucking no, I’m a businesswoman. And the fact that Mariah can braid the fuck out of some hair would definitely be a nice touch around here. The bitch can do all types of exclusive braid designs. This could definitely be a good look for the salon; especially since I’m now looking to bring on a barber-stylist as well. Shit, niggas like to keep their heads tight, too. And if there’s money to be made, I need to be getting it. “Does she have her papers?” I ask, pondering the possibilities.
“Nah, she doesn’t. I keep telling her to take her ass back to school to get them shits. But she’s always on some ’I ain’t beat’ type shit.”
“Well, tell her as soon as she gets her papers straight, she can definitely come on board. I’d love to have her. But until then, sorry, I run a licensed salon, and everyone who works here must have all their credentials in order.”
