Perfect Summer by Bethany Lopez
Faith
My hands were shaking as I unlocked the back door to Serenity.
Seeing, and speaking to, Mitch had really thrown me off. Damn, he’d looked good. Like, really freaking good.
The weather was heating up as summer approached, so he’d been in a well-worn, fitted T that accentuated the fact that he was a man who did manual labor. His body had been incredibly fit. Toned but not overly bulky.
His sandy-brown hair, which had always been cut short when we were younger, was grown out and a little shaggy, as if he hadn’t had time to get a trim in the last few months. It was a good look on him, making him appear even more handsome and endearing, if that was possible.
His brown eyes, which had always regarded me warmly, had held none of the affection they used to.
I always knew the first time I saw Mitch again there would be a lot of emotions involved, but actually seeing him had been much worse.
I found myself feeling like an eighteen-year-old girl again. I’d been in love with Mitch, but I’d known if I stayed for him, I would have resented him. I’d also known if we’d tried to have a long-distance relationship it wouldn’t have worked out, so I’d made a clean break and hadn’t looked back.
I lost myself in the routine of setting up the shop for the day, and by the time my girls started coming in, I felt a lot more balanced.
I looked around my space, took a deep breath and let it out, and smiled. It was all mine. I’d enrolled in cosmetology school a few months after I’d moved to Chicago and had always dreamed of opening my own place.
When my mom told me the original owner of Serenity was planning to sell and move to Florida, it had seemed like a sign.
The timing had been perfect. I’d received the money from Jed’s life insurance and had been tossing around the idea of bringing Hope back home to Mason Creek and starting fresh. So, I’d jumped at the chance to buy the salon, had found our little house, and the rest was now history.
I’d done some remodeling over the last few months, wanting Serenity to match my style and personality, and I was really proud of how it turned out.
It was the kind of place people felt comfortable coming to, to enjoy a break from their everyday lives and get a little pampering. We had the older ladies, who had a standing weekly appointment to get their hair set and enjoy a bit of gossip, and the regulars who came in every six or eight weeks to freshen up their style.
I loved everything about owning my own business. Especially having awesome stylists like Anna, Cheryl, Stacey, and Maggie. They made everyday fun, and my days go by fast.
I’d worked in salons with toxic management, which had made going to work hell. I was lucky and I knew it, and I’d vowed early on never to take any of it for granted.
Just then, Stacey walked in swinging her hips as she belted out a Bruno Mars song, which would now be stuck in my head for the rest of the day.
“Morning,” I called out, giving a little wave in case she couldn’t hear me.
Stacey often had her air pods in, unless she was with a customer, so we’d all grown accustomed to her not being able to hear us as she moved around the salon.
She caught my wave and gave me a finger wave back as she sashayed to the back, presumably to put her bag away and her lunch in the fridge.
“Hey, hey,” Cheryl called as she came in a few moments later. “I brought donuts.”
“Bitch,” Stacey called out from the back. She was constantly starting a new diet. This week it was The Whole Thirty.
“Sorry, Stace,” Cheryl called back as she winked at me.
“I’ll take one,” I said, crossing to see what she’d brought. “Yum, cinnamon twist, my favorite.”
“I got that one just for you, boss.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” I replied, before taking a big bite and closing my eyes to enjoy the cinnamon, buttery goodness.
Joy at The Sweet Spot is a culinary goddess.
“You got anyone on the books this morning?” Cheryl asked as she began getting her station ready.
“Yeah, my mom, actually,” I replied with a smile. She was one of my weekly regulars. “You?”
“Back-to-back until I leave, with a break for lunch.”
Cheryl, Stacey, and I were opening today, with Anna coming in early afternoon. It was Maggie’s day off.
“That’s great,” I said as I moved to make sure the Keurig had water and the mini fridge was stocked with complimentary drinks for our guests.
Each stylist handled their own payments and paid me a monthly fee for using the space, so it all worked out perfectly.
“Who is ready to slay this day?” Stacey asked as she came out of the back room. Her hair and makeup were perfectly done. She was our resident makeup artist, nail technician, and waxer, so she always wanted to look her best in order to represent the work she did.
“All day, baby,” Cheryl replied.
I went to the back room and connected my phone to the Bluetooth radio we had running through the ceiling. After I decided on Taylor Swift Radio, I went back out to see Stacey nibbling on a custard-filled donut.
She looked up at me and said, “If I eat it in small bites, the calories don’t count.”
I smiled and shook my head. I love my girls.