Page 17 of Right Next Door
And some time after that-
“I got it!” She laughed, eagerly braiding through The General’s fur. She couldn’t use any product, and she didn’t want it to actually stay, so the braids were quickly unraveling, but she didn’t care, because she was actually doing it!
This was going to be great for her business!
“General, you’re a real trooper!” She declared, smoothing out his fur. Now that she figured out the technique and had her plan, she didn’t need to use him as a guinea pig anymore. She released the pressure of her thighs and he growled angrily, but didn’t attempt to move away as she pet him flat again.
“Cornrows!” She declared to him, laughing. “I can do cornrows on you! Which means I can do cornrows onthem. And not just on their scalps. I can do it anywhere! Imagine it, General! I could do like a whole braid design up someone’s arm. Like a tattoo! But of braids! Wouldn’t that be cool?”
The General hissed, still unmoving. Angry, but comfy, and unhappy about it, yet still completely unwilling to leave the warm cradle of her legs.
“You are your own worst enemy,” Misty told him, scratching his head as he grumbled.
With that, she got to her feet – he fell over, hissing again – and walked to her privy, going through her suite.
This place was so different now. Her taste and preferences were everywhere. Gone was the regal white and gold and red color palette, and in its place was gray and black with pops of whiteand neon colors. There were black lace curtains and black satin sheets. She didn’t have access to her usual witchy aesthetic here, but it had been fun to find cool décor pieces from the kreecharma and use those instead. She had just chosen whatever sparked her interest, regardless of the look Davard sent her when she did.
Lace and chains, black satin and alien skulls, glitter and gloom. It was absolutely perfect. She’d started with her bedroom, extended into her privy, then after that exploded into the hallway and was slowly taking over the entire Fellbud Manor.
She’d started slow. Not sure that she’d be allowed to change too much. That maybe they would only want her to style her own room – which was enough for her, realistically. But no one ever stopped her from doing whatever she wanted. She’d joked about taking down a wall one time and Davard had frowned before telling her it might be difficult since it was load bearing but he could try to find a way to make it happen.
She had to insist afterward, a few times, that it was fine. She didn’t actually want the wall gone. She was just trying to see what she could get away with. And the answer was, apparently, a lot.
That’s why she felt so confident claiming what appeared to be an old gardening shed and converting it into a salon. It was a space that was a bit too big to bejusta shed, but when she compared it to the rest of the manor, it was the most apt description to apply.
No one tried to stop her there either. Davard even tried to help her with anything she wanted. Her whims were law around here, and everyone tried to accommodate her. They were all helpful, polite, and friendly at all times. She couldn’t really call them friends, but they were all there for her.
But she hadn’t seen hide nor fur of Tsok.
Sure, he was a VIP. He was busy. She got that. But she’d been here for weeks. Tendays! Long enough to redecorate the manor, plan her own business, and finish her online – subnet – lessons in kreecharma beauty grooming.
Yet he never came around. They never ran into each other. She didn’t even see him in passing. She quickly figured out he didn’t even live with her. He lived in a manor all the way across the property, so the likelihood of them catching each other by accident was nil. She wasn’t going to ask about him either. She refused to be the one to beg for attention. Absolutely not. She’d rather be alone than pathetic.
Why the heck had he gone through all the trouble of bringing her here? It was clear he didn’t actually want anything to do with a mate.
The only person she could ask about it was Davard, and she wasnotgoing to do that. She wasn’t going to let them think she was at all interested in him. Not when it was obvious that he wasn’t at all interested in her.
No. Instead, she was going to use all the money he was throwing at her to build her business, her brand, and her future. They didn’t care what she used it for, and she wasn’t enough of a goodie two shoes to refuse their generosity.
Or foolishness. He was acting like a sugar daddy with diabetes – he couldn’t actually enjoy any of the sugar.
Whatever. Screw him too. She was going to focus on herself.
And her new salon!
It seemed like no time at all had passed since she first landed. She’d been so busy every day, time flew by that quickly. Without any help from Tsok except the investment – which she might return if her business took off and she was feeling particularly sassy – she soon found herself standing in her brand new, fullyfurnished salon – Human Braids By Misty. She didn’t want to be particularly cute or fancy with the name. She was going to broadcast exactly what she was doing here, what no one else was doing on this entire planet.
The interior was a wonderful mix of alien and human. She kept her lace and chain in the décor, though she’d pulled back on it a lot for sanitation reasons. Cleaning lace and chains was difficult and she couldn’t have that stuff everywhere. It was more of an accent on the glass and stainless-steel look that dominated the room – very clean and modern. A hint of her style came through here and there, but it was otherwise bright and professional.
The main attraction was the chair in front of three angled mirrors. It was specially designed for her. She hadn’t asked for it. She’d been shopping for a comfy, high stool with wheels for herself to use around a kreecharma style grooming chair when Davard asked her exactly what she wanted. Then, after telling him what she was looking for – a place to sit while she did the braids that could move all around the client’s body – he had this made for her.
It was two chairs in one, technically. The first chair that the client sat on that could be laid down and came with a footstool and arm rests, but mostly remained still. Then, it’s pair, her stool, sat waiting beside the client chair. It looked like the kind dental assistants used, with the arm on the front to lean against. It actually hovered, allowing her to spin around her client, going up and down as she required, to place her braids wherever she needed.
Flat braids were like a drawing. A line of braids laid flat on the skin that could be made into shapes and designs. There was no hard rule regarding shape or size or placement. She could be creative with them however she wanted. Especially since hers weren’t even necessarily going to be on the head.
Since she was the only one doing this, there was only one chair. But she did have multiple stations set up. A shower in the back for her clients to wash off, a claw tending table, an ear cleaning bench. A whole host of shelves and drawers full of tools, old and new, that she’d be using.
And she already had a roster of clients for this first day!
