Page 5 of Half Notes and Highlights
“Do you love it?” Tyler asked, a satisfied fist on his hip.
Ethan wasn’t sure. He missed his long hair, but didn’t know how he felt about this new look. “I don’t hate it.”
“What do you mean, you don’t hate it? Look at those cheekbones!” Tyler exclaimed, cupping Ethan’s jaw from behind with both hands. “You look like a super-hot Jim Morrison.” Tyler leaned over so his lips were at Ethan’s ear and sang in a whisper, “Come on, baby, light my fire.”
A hot chill took Ethan’s breath away, and he lost his ability to speak. He couldn’t do anything except stare into Tyler’s soft brown eyes and watch the playfulness that sparkled back at him.
“Just use a little texturizing product for volume, and it’ll be easy enough to style,” Tyler said. “Any questions?”
Ethan’s thoughts were all over the place, but he shook his head.
“I guess my work here is done,” Tyler announced.
Paul rushed over, thanked Tyler, and handed him a check.
“Wait!” Ethan jumped out of the chair, and both Tyler and Paul turned around.
“Do you need something else?” Tyler asked.
“No. Um. Yeah. I just wanted to thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. It was a pleasure meeting you.” Tyler pulled a business card out of the back pocket of his skin-tightleather jeans and handed it to Ethan. “Call if you need anything. Anytime”
And then Tyler was gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sipping his morning coffee, Tyler stared at the picturesque mountains in the distance. He still wasn’t used to waking up to such a beautiful view every day, and the quiet was nice. In New York, he woke up to noisy traffic and sirens.
He planned on visiting his new studio today to start setting up and maybe do some shopping to personalize the space. He was also looking forward to seeing it in person. The agent had taken him on a virtual tour, and he had the square footage, but it was still hard to visualize.
An incoming call interrupted his thoughts. He studied the number on the screen which looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Hello?” he answered, hesitantly.
“This is Paul Landry, Wolf Pack’s manager. Ethan Jones needs you to come by right away. He’s having an issue with his hair.”
“What’s wrong? I thought he liked it.” Ethan didn’t exactly say he liked his haircut. He said he didn’t hate it, but Tyler made sure the rock star didn’t want anything else done before he left the salon. It’s been a day and a half. What the hell could have happened?
“He just doesn’t know what to do with it. We’re still at the hotel. I can have a car pick you up in under an hour. You’ll be well compensated.”
Phrasing it in the form of a question would have been nice, but Tyler was used to dealing with wealthy entitlement, and he’d love to see the sexy rock star again. “Of course. I want all my clients to be 100% happy with their hairstyle.”
A pair of bodyguards escorted Tyler to Ethan’s hotel room, not back to the salon in the lobby. The entire floor was quiet, and he imagined that management booked all the rooms in order to ensure privacy and enforce security.
As soon as Tyler entered the fancy suite, Ethan rushed in from the other room, arms outstretched and panic on his face. “Look at my hair!”
Tyler was unable to suppress his grin, but at least he didn’t outright laugh. Ethan’s hair was plastered to his head with some kind of gel, so he looked like a hitman from the ‘50s. “What did you do to it?”
“I just put product in it, like you said.”
Tyler sauntered over and reached up to touch Ethan’s hair. It was hard as a rock and barely moved. “It feels like a helmet. What did you use?”
Ethan raced into the bathroom and raced back out with a giant jar that contained a thick, clear substance with air bubbles and looked like something his grandfather might use. “I said to use texturizing product. Like mousse. Where did you even buy that?”
“Wolf got it for me. My bass player.”
A laugh fell from Tyler’s mouth before he could stop it. “I’m sorry. I think your friend was punking you. No one in our generation uses something like that.”
Ethan closed his eyes and pressed his lips together while his nostrils flared. “That fucker.”
