Page 1 of Sturdy & Dirty

Chapter One

Holly

I swept the last bit of hair into the overflowing dustpan just as the front door bell jangled on the rusty knob.

“Hey Kimmy,” my sister called from the corner booth where she was finishing up a lengthy dye job. “Come on in.”

Kimmie McBane smiled the kind of smile that told the world she was loving life. I wouldn’t mind a bit of whatever did that for her. But I had a feeling it had something to do with that pretty ring on her finger, and her newly married status.

“Morning, ladies. How’s life in the mortuary?”

Kimmie was my sister’s friend and a year or two younger than me. But I’d known her as many years as Ivy had, and was in on all the inside jokes. The mortuary referred to the current state of our shared salon.

Flat white tiles—of which too many were broken. Pinstriped wallpaper that was peeling at the corners. Windows that only took up the top third of the wall. Questionable lighting that made it difficult to get coloring right.

Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful to have a building to run my business out of while our brand new salon was being built. But it was certainly not helping make our clientele feel welcome. And if it wasn’t for people like Kimmie who were confident in our skills and kept coming back… we might not have made it through this transition.

You haven’t made it yet, a little voice inside reminded, but I swatted it away.

No time to doubt things now.

Trust the process.

It was the same thing I told customers in the middle of a color processing.

We were on the homestretch. I just had to be patient. When the new building was finished, me and Ivy and Bloom Babes Salon & Shavery would flourish like we were meant to.

I set my broom aside and tuned back in to Ivy and Kimmie’s conversation.

“You mind if Holly takes you today? I’m not quite finished with this.”

Ivy was working on a new client, brought to us by word of mouth. So it was more important than ever to get it right.

And from the looks of things, that red was going to need another round of toner.

“Sure!” Kimmie said, taking a seat in my chair while I grabbed a cape.

“What will we be doing for you today, Kimmie?” I watched her brow furrow in the reflection of the mirror.

“I don’t know exactly. I need something… fresh. For summer.”

“We talking cut, color, or both?”

“Hmm, maybe just a cut this time. Something shorter, but don’t make me look like a turtle.”

I couldn’t help a laugh, because I was sure I knew what she was talking about. Some faces and head shapes weren’t meant for short bobs.

“Don’t worry. I have the perfect thing for you.”

“I trust you, Holly.”

It was true.

She’d trusted me to do her hair and makeup for her wedding, and a summer haircut was far less important than that.

“Konner tells me they’re getting close to finishing your build,” she said as I pumped the pedal to lift her chair.

Konner, Kimmie’s husband, owned the construction company we’d hired to build our new salon.

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