“Well, that sounds like a whole lotta gibberish to me, but I trust you.”
I section her hair for how I’d like to cut it while she tells me about this new recipe she found on Pinterest. Except, she calls it Pin-Interest every time she mentions it. I’m fighting hard to hold back my smile—she’s just too cute.
The door chimes as I’m about to snip the last section of her bangs, and Mrs. Cumberland pulls her head back from me.
“Myla Rose, would you take a look?” Her eyes are laser-focused on the front desk. “That man is a cool drink of water on a hot day. I mean, gracious, if I were single and maybe twenty years younger . . .”
I chance a peek over my shoulder and see Cash standing there, nephews in tow.
“Yes, ma’am, he sure is something, all right.” I run my flat iron through her bangs to smooth out the marks my clips left behind and once again swivel her to face the mirror. “Here you go. What do you think?”
“Oh, Myla Rose, this is perfection personified. I just love it!”
My smile is beaming. This is why I do hair. There is nothing better than making someone love what they see in the mirror.
“I’m glad you like it, Mrs. Cumberland. When you set up your appointment with Seraphine, remember to have her book it out two weeks later.”
“I sure will,” she says before wrapping me into a tight hug. The kind of hug a mom gives—the kind I’ll give my little man.