"Jimmy, what are you doing this Summer?"
"Plenty."
"No, come on! Tell us! Are you going on holiday with your girlfriend?"
'
Perhaps if I had one,
'
I thought. "Why, are you hoping to be on my To Do list Sasha?"
"Only if you're free..."
Sasha fluttered her eyes at me and I gave her the obligatory 'I'll think it over' look. These girls were always doing this. I wasn't too worried; I'd worked at the beauty salon long enough to learn the tricks. Most of the regulars were the petty, pampered kind.
They were the kind of girls that you avoided on the playground when you were in grade school, the kind that insulted you with their eyes and complimented you by showing attention in a crowd. I always thought of them as 'Needles', because they were usually thin and generally had a prickly attitude. I suppose that 'Cactus' would be a slightly less flattering term. I hated that kind of attitude, but I quickly learnt to deal with it at the salon. We got plenty of customers and it wasn't like they were all terrible.
Occasionally some of my mum's friends would drop by and snicker softly at the shameless flirting that went on. The first time it happened I nearly got myself fired.
-ββββββββββ-
I was only two weeks into the job and I had finally gotten used to banter with the 'needles' when a women in her early forties got the seat opposite the 'needle' I was attending. I can't recall the girl's name anymore but she had been lying back in her chair, eyes closed, feet in my lap. It was either her second or third appointment in a row and she had asked for me personally.
It wasn't uncommon; I was the only male employee and despite being barely 18 when I got the job, my body was fairly built from years helping my father in his lumberyard and holidays doing outdoor recreation. Anyway, I had my back to the door and didn't see my mum's friend enter and take the seat behind me. The girl in front of me was making all kinds of appreciative noises. I remember thinking
'
Jesus woman, it
'
s just a foot massage!
'
, but I'd never actually speak my mind at the salon. At the least, not around the 'needles'.
When the girl's massage was over, she made it a point to drag her foot along my leg before she put it on the ground and once we were both standing, she stood on her toes to whisper, rather loudly: "Maybe you can come to my place and we can finish this massage..?"
When a 'needle' asks a question like that, it's pretty rare that they actually mean what they say. It's safest to assume that, any time they invite you anywhere alone, they are actually inviting you to sex. Well, part of bantering with 'needles' is deflecting any sex invites without incurring their wrath.
So as I walked her to the counter I said, "I'm on a pretty packed schedule, sweetheart."
"Then why not let me
un
pack it?"
She gazed at me through lidded eyes as she said this and subtly slipped a hand between us to pinch my thigh. I could tell she was one of the more rowdy girls and my mind raced as I tried to find a safe path out of her offer. By now we had reached the counter and she stopped pinching to run her hand across the front of my pants as I stepped behind the counter.
"Sounds tempting, but you know that if I lose my job you won't be able to come in here and have me pamper you... How about you leave me your number and I'll get in touch when I can fit you in."
She pouted but was quick to reach for a pen. When she finished writing her number, the girl flicked her gaze up at me and said, "I'd much rather you let
me
see if I can fit
you
in."
I watched her leave before chuckling under my breath and slipping her number into the trash can under the desk. It was only five minutes from closing time so I figured that I'd stay at the counter and sort through the appointments for next week, when I heard a familiar voice. With a comical gulp, I raised my head to see my mum's friend shooting me an amused smirk.
"James, I see you've become quite the ladies' man."
"H-Hey Mrs. King, I didn't see you come in."
She gave a laugh, said "Oh, don't worry. I can imagine where your eyes were occupied" and left.
I had always liked Mrs. King's sense of humour, but right then I was so afraid she might get me in trouble that I didn't even consider she was joking.
My mum had very strict rules on dating. She used to be fairly relaxed but a couple of years ago, my older sister was raped and killed on a date. Since then mum has been more cautious. It's understandable, I guess; I missed my sister an awful lot as well...
She was my rival in all things but also she was my best friend. Both of us had grown up with a very psychical background; between family hiking trips and dad's lumberyard, both of us were fairly fit. On top of that, my sister had taken up Tae kwon do when she found out my best friend was an up-and-coming martial artist... So I could understand my mum's caution when it came to things like this. If someone could overpower Cassandra on a date and then murder her once they'd... finished with her... If they could do
that
...
Anyway, as it turned out Mrs. King went straight to my house and told my mum what had transpired. 20 minutes after leaving work, I walked in to hear, "James, I heard you have a schedule in need of unpacking!" followed by both women's laughter. Ever since then I have been more worried about mum hearing embarrassing stories than getting into actual trouble from flirting.
-ββββββββββ-
I shook my head to draw myself out of the memory and looked at Sasha. She had her hands on her hips and I quickly shot her naughty grin. The thing about the 'needles' is that they assume a lot about me. They assume that I am 'cool', they assume that I'm older than I am... and that my honed body was sculpted explicitly to look good and get laid. I worked hard to earn my body and I wanted it to be fit for many things, not just look good.
But at the salon, I need to make sure that nobody sees any of this. I need to be the muscle-bound flirt who graduated 5 years ago and fucks strangers if their hot enough to be worth it.
"Sorry Sasha, just trying to think who I need to cross off my To Do list to make wrong for you. Guess it'll have to be Scarlett Johansson. Ah well, not like I'm going to the U.S. any time soon."
Sasha gave a huff but rubbed her fingers over mine from across the counter.
"You're hotter than her anyway," I said, even though I avoid relationships with 'needles' as much as possible, "But to be honest, I am actually going away on holiday. I'm working as soon as I get home, but I'll give you a call if I can fit you in."
"Then
I
'
ll