Page 72 of Charmed, I'm Sure
Taking a deep breath, I focused on the sensation of his strong fingers kneading my scalp and the back of my neck. The warm water cascaded down, washing away the stress that had been building. It felt amazing. I was half tempted to come here once a week just so Greyson could wash my hair.
But just as I was reaching a state of zen, sharp, needling voices pierced the air and shattered my peace.
“You can’t believe everything that Sophie girl says,” voice number one snapped.“I know, Geraldine, but she had a picture this time,” voice number two responded.
Well, at least I knew who one of them was now. I groaned internally. So much for a peaceful day at the salon.
And it had been going so well.
“Oh, snap,” Grey whispered, excitement lacing his tone. “One of the best perks of this job is the old biddy gossip. I wonder who they’re talking about.”
“I’m sure it’s no one special.” I took another deep breath, trying to find my zen again—but it was nowhere to be found.
“I just don’t see what that sweet boy sees in her. It’s Magnolia Bellevue, for goodness’ sake. And that hair!”
“Oh, I know! And they say that whole family of hers are witches. Witches, Dorothy! He could do so much better.”
My eyes flew open at my name, and I was met with Greyson’s wide hazel gaze.
“It’s fine, Grey. I’m used to it,” I whispered, trying to muster a convincing smile.
The truth was, I was used to it—used to people talking about me behind my back, judging me for my looks or how I lived my life. Buthearing that people in town didn’t think I was good enough for Taylor stung more than it should.
Greyson’s lips pressed into a thin line, fire flickering in those golden-green irises. “I’m going to say something.”
“No,” I whisper-shouted, reigning in the anxiety churning in my gut. “Please don’t. I’ll handle it. I always have.”
I forced another smile to my face—though I was sure it looked as deflated as I felt. Thankfully, Greyson just huffed out a breath and went back to rinsing the conditioner from my hair.
When he finished, he wrapped a towel around my head, and we returned to his station—my appearance shocking the hell out of Geraldine and Dorothy. Their cheeks flushed crimson, and their eyes bugged out as they sat under the dryers clutching their gossip rags. Figures.
“Ladies,” Grey said curtly, shooting them a scathing look that had me biting my lips to suppress a laugh.
The rest of my appointment was depressingly awkward. The playful banter between Greyson and me was gone, replaced by pitying glances in my direction and disdainful glares in the mirror aimed at the two women behind him. At least my hair looked incredible. Greyson had worked his magic, and I was sorely tempted to nix the enchantments altogether just so he could do my hair more often.
“What do you think?” he asked, his hazel eyes glowing as he fluffed the big, bouncy curls cascading over my shoulder.
“You are a miracle worker, Grey. Thank you.” My sinuses burned as I met his gaze in the mirror. “For everything.”
“You are a queen, Magnolia Bellevue. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”
“Do it foryourself…”
“And no one else,” he finished, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pressing his cheek to mine.
He’d just removed the cape from my shoulders whenTennessee Whiskeyby Chris Stapleton drifted out of my purse.
“Thanks again, Grey,” I said, scrambling out of the chair to grab my phone. Aunt Evie’s photo lit up the screen.
Sliding the green dot to the right, I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hey, Aunt Evie.”
“Hey, Magpie.” Exhaustion thickened her voice as she blew out a heavy breath. “You gonna be home soon?”
“Yeah, I just finished up at the salon. I need to run by the shop—”
“I already called the shop. Jae’s going to close up for you.” Another sigh crackled across the line, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
“What’s going on?”
