Secret Indiscretions (21 page)

“H
ere you go. Drink up.” Donetta handed Geneva a Starbucks cup. “A double shot of espresso, no whip, just the way you like it.”

“Thanks, I need this in the worst way,” Geneva said as she took her first sip.

“How many more clients do you have today?”

“Just one, and she should be here any minute. After that I'm outa here to start my weekend. I just hope this caffeine boost helps me keep my eyes open.”

Geneva smiled because although she was tired, it was for a good reason. It was Saturday afternoon and she'd been up late every night this week either spending time with or talking on the phone to Samuel. She could hardly believe all the changes that had taken place in her life in such a short amount of time.

Samuel had moved out of his house the day after he and Geneva had met Monday night at Waffle House. He found a small apartment that was actually closer to his job than his house, and conveniently, was only a short distance from where Donetta lived. Geneva found herself looking forward to their late-night talks, which bonded them even closer together. Samuel was unlike any man she'd ever been involved with. His sincere kindness, genuine honesty, and sense of integrity shined through in the way he approached his work, and his life, and Geneva found herself falling hard for him.

“He seems all right,” Donetta had said two nights ago when Samuel stopped by the house to visit Geneva. “But everybody puts their best foot forward in the beginning. Give this thing some time.”

To the untrained ear, Donetta's words would have sounded doubtful and cautionary. But Geneva took them as a very good sign, especially given the fact that Donetta had been referencing a man. The fact that Donetta had said Samuel was all right was practically the equivalent of deeming him a good man, and her comment about giving things time meant she hadn't dismissed him and was actually giving him the benefit of the doubt. Donetta's sense of people was keen, and although jaded toward the way of distrust, she was usually right.

“I have one more head to whip into shape,” Donetta said, drinking her caramel Frappuccino. “And once I leave here I have a hot date with my bed.”

Geneva yawned and took another sip of her coffee. “A nice long nap sounds divine, but I'm hoping this coffee will wake me up.”

“I bet you are,” Donetta teased, and gave her a wink.

Geneva had told her about the dinner date that she and Samuel had planned for tonight. It was something she'd been looking forward to for the last few days.

Shartell glanced at Geneva with an excited smile. “You've come dragging in here every day this week. What's got you up so late at night?”

The three of them were the only stylists left in the salon this afternoon. Geneva and Donetta both looked at each other and then at Shartell. It never ceased to amaze Geneva how unapologetically nosey Shartell was. The woman had no filter when it came to her comments and no boundaries when asking people questions. Geneva knew she had to either ignore her coworker's question or proceed with caution in answering it. But before she could do either, Donetta stepped in.

“What makes you think she's been stayin' up late? She could be tired because of her long list of clients—which by the way, is triple the amount of yours. Geneva keeps her chair jumpin' from the time we open until the time we close. So instead of worrying about how she's spending her time, you should work on building your business and minding it, too.”

Shartell glared at Donetta. “Why you always throwin' shade? I was talkin' to Geneva, not you.”

“You need to go somewhere and sit the hell down, Shartell.”

“And you need to mind your own business, too.” Even Shartell knew how crazy her statement sounded, and she had to shake her head at her own self.

Donetta burst into laughter. “Girl, bye!”

“I know, I know,” Shartell said, joining Donetta as well as Geneva in more laughter. “But you can't say I'm not honest.”

Just then a woman walked up to Geneva nursing a slow limp and a wide smile. She was dressed in a drab t-shirt and capri pants that looked a bit too tight for her full-figured size. She dabbed the sweat from her makeup-free face with a Kleenex, clearly hot from the late summer humidity outside and the climb up the flight of steps leading to the salon. “Are you Geneva?” the woman asked.

Geneva nodded and gave her a warm smile. “Yes, I am, and you must be Cheryl.” She extended her hand to her new client. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Cheryl said.

Geneva took another quick sip of her coffee and spun her stylist chair around. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Cheryl said. “My knees are killing me. It's so bad that my doctor said I'll probably have to undergo surgery soon.” She sat in Geneva's chair and held her handbag in her lap as though someone was going to steal it.

“I can store your bag in my drawer so you won't have to hold it.” Geneva watched as the woman looked around the shop. “If it'll make you feel more comfortable I can lock the drawer,” Geneva offered.

Cheryl smiled and nodded her head. “Okay, thanks.”

Geneva could see that Cheryl's sew-in was high quality Brazilian hair, and whoever had cut it had done a very good job. She placed her hands on the woman's head and could tell that she had a good amount of her own hair under tracks that had become slightly loose. “So tell me, Cheryl,” Geneva began, “what kind of style are you looking for today?”

Cheryl smiled and turned in the chair so she could look at herself in the mirror as she spoke. “I want something totally different. I've been wearing this weave for so long and now it's time for a change. I want to go natural. I haven't had a relaxer in over a year, and my hair under this weave is down to my shoulders. I was thinking about wearing it loose, kinda like Traci Ellis Ross's hair. Do you think that would look good on me?”

Geneva nodded. “Yes, I do. Let's go for it.”

Geneva began taking out Cheryl's weave, track by track, as the two of them struck up a lively conversation. They talked like they were old friends catching up on each other's lives. Geneva learned that Cheryl had recently gone through a messy divorce from her husband of ten years, and that she'd just relocated to the area from California and was staying with relatives until she could find a job and get on her feet. Geneva admired Cheryl's bravery. She was a woman who'd decided to step out on her own and build a new life, rather than stay in a marriage full of hurt and neglect. It was the very same thing that Geneva had decided to do.

After Geneva finished Cheryl's hair, she wanted to give herself a pat on the back for how well it turned out, despite the unforeseen challenges she'd faced at the onset. Cheryl's natural hair was long, but badly damaged, requiring Geneva to cut it down into a tiny afro so it could grow out even and healthy. Cheryl didn't blink about the drastic change, and had actually welcomed it. After Geneva shampooed, deep conditioned, and cut Cheryl's hair, the woman looked like a million bucks and she said she felt like it, too.

Geneva unlocked her drawer and handed Cheryl her bag from inside. “Doesn't she look great?” she said with excitement, turning to Donetta and Shartell for their expert opinions.

“It's a nice look,” was all Shartell said. Donetta simply smiled and remained silent, which Geneva thought was odd.

“Thank you,” Cheryl said, looking around at everyone. She patted the short, glistening curls atop her head and admired herself in the mirror, turning at each angle to view her profile. “I love it!” She reached into her handbag and pulled out her wallet, still admiring herself, her eyes glued to the mirror. “How much do I owe you?” she asked Geneva.

“Nothing, it's on the house.” Geneva placed her hand on Cheryl's shoulder. “You haven't found a job yet and you're staying with relatives until you get on your feet. I know how that is. Just enjoy your new do and that will be my payment.”

Cheryl looked as though she was going to tear up and cry, but she held it back. “This is one of the nicest things anyone has done for me in a long time.”

Geneva smiled. “Pay it forward and do something nice for someone when you leave here.”

“I sure will.” Cheryl hugged Geneva tightly, then made an appointment to see her two weeks from today. “I've got you on my next visit,” she said on her way out.

Geneva sat in her chair glad to be finished for the day. It was six o'clock in the afternoon, and she'd been in the shop since six this morning.

“You about ready to leave?” Donetta asked as she unplugged her irons, kicked off her clogs and slipped into her stiletto sandals.

“More than ready. But I'm going to sit here for a few minutes, just so I can rest my tired legs and aching feet.”

“You had a long day and you deserve that much. Girl, you did the hell outa some heads today,” Donetta said. “That blowout you gave Lataylor was fit for an
Essence
spread.”

“Yaaaasssss!”
Shartell agreed. “That do was the business.”

“Thanks. I love it when my clients turn out looking great, like my last one.” Geneva thought about Cheryl and she remembered how strangely both Donetta and Shartell had reacted to the woman's appearance. “Is it just me,” she said, “or did y'all not like the way my last client's hair looked?”

Shartell spoke first. “I meant what I said. It was a good look.”

Donetta pursed her lips and sucked her teeth.

“Donetta, you have to admit, she looked good,” Shartell said.

“What's your problem with her?” Geneva asked her friend.

Donetta sat in her chair and crossed her long legs. “I don't like that fake heffa. There's something about her that screams messy-as-hell. Don't you agree?” she said, looking at Shartell.

“Well, now that you put it out there. Yes, I have to agree with you. I don't usually get bad vibes from people, but that chick had trouble written all over her.”

“You got that right,” Donetta chimed in. “I picked up on it the minute she limped her hefty ass over to your chair.”

Shartell nodded. “I overheard some of your conversation, and frankly, she sounded like the kind of person who says things just to sound good. Couldn't you tell?”

Geneva shook her head. “No, not at all. I could see that she's a little vain by the way she constantly stared at herself in the mirror. But I chalked that up to the fact that she was so happy about her new look.”

“Vain is being kind,” Donetta chimed in. “She watched herself in the mirror of every station she passed when she walked into the salon.”

Shartell nodded in agreement. “She sure did, but the thing that got me was the questions she asked you.”

Geneva raised her brow. “She talked about herself for most of our conversation, which I think was because it was therapeutic, given her situation. But she didn't ask me many questions at all, so I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I do,” Donetta answered. “She didn't ask a lot of questions, but the ones she managed to work into your conversation were very personal, asking about your husband and your friends, tryna be all in your business and whatnot. None of your long-time regular clients do that, but this woman who just met you, was in your business.”

“We connected on a personal level because we're going through some of the same things.” Geneva came short of saying that she was in the same marital situation as Cheryl because Shartell was within earshot.

“Oh, because y'all both goin' through a divorce?” Shartell said.

Geneva and Donetta looked startled, but they knew they shouldn't be. Although they'd been very careful and hadn't let on that Geneva was staying with Donetta, they knew it was only a matter of time before Ms. CIA found out.

Shartell waved her hand. “Don't worry, I haven't said a word to anyone. I like you, Geneva, and I know how private you are. If folks find out your business it won't be from me.”

Geneva looked at Shartell with grateful eyes. “Thank you.”

“But I'll tell you this,” she said. “Folks gonna know real soon because of what your husband did at the college a few days ago.”

Alarm ran through Geneva's body. “What happened?”

“He got into a fight with the director of security.”

Geneva gasped. “That can't be right. The director of security is his best friend. You must be mistaken.”

Shartell looked as though someone had insulted her mother. “When have you ever known me to be mistaken about my information?”

“Never,” Donetta said. “Tell us what happened.”

Shartell looked at Geneva. “From what I understand, he was already beat up pretty bad when he showed up at his friend's office. They exchanged some words that led to a fight. It took three campus police officers to break it up. Johnny ended up with a fractured jaw and three broken ribs.”

Donetta smiled while Geneva shook her head in disbelief.

“My Lord,” Geneva said.

“Shartell, you're somethin' else,” Donetta said. “Geneva's his wife and she didn't know, so how the hell did you find out so quickly?”

“You know I don't reveal my sources,” Shartell said.

Geneva brought her hands to her mouth and shook her head from side to side. “This is just awful. What were they fighting about?”

“Johnny called his friend's fiancée a bitch, not once, but twice.”

The sympathy that Geneva had felt for Johnny instantly evaporated. She knew that Candace was a good woman, and that she made Bernard happier than Geneva had ever seen him. But Johnny couldn't stand Candace, and Geneva had heard through the grapevine that Bernard had proposed. She knew that probably hadn't set well with Johnny. Geneva knew that Johnny's disdain came from the fact that he was secretly jealous of Bernard's newfound joy.