Page 88 of His to Have
Not my brother.
But me.
A few of the women standing near the door moved to the side without being told. A couple of them even offered polite greetings. One lady in a denim jumpsuit held the door open for me, eyes studying Sham at my back. Stepping into the salon, the vibe shifted immediately. Soft tunes still played lightly in the background, but the conversation shifted to a quiet murmur. The salon owner, who I now knew was Jasmine, immediately greeted me.
“Ayanna, girl, what you doing here?” she asked, like we were friends. I’d never said more to this woman other than hi and bye when I was visiting my brother. “Did Bash tell you about the specials?” Her eyes flicked up at my hair.
Today it was my natural curls.
“Nah.” I looked around the shop, kind of impressed by what she had done with the place.
It was cute and aesthetically pleasing with grass walls for photo backdrops and framed black-and-white photographs of past clients. Really good lighting, along with more contemporary white and gold stations filled the moderate size space. It even smelled good in here... coconut, and possibly a hint of vanilla.
When I finally returned my gaze to her, I demanded, “Clear the salon. All except for your girl, Karley.” I thumbed her way, but I never looked at her, only at Jasmine."She and I have an issue to discuss."
“Excuse me?” Jasmine blinked hard.
It took a minute for the words to register. Those cheap lashes fluttered, and she straightened up behind the front counter, pressing her long coffin shaped acrylics flat to the marble countertop.
“I think you heard me just fine.” I didn’t raise my voice or consider repeating myself. We both knew what I said.
Jasmine gave a little scoff. Her eyes turned to slits and her lips pursed. She was on the verge of saying some shit I wouldn’t like.
“Hold up now, this is my shop. I don’t know what you came in here on, but you not about to—”
“I hate to cut you off, but you and I both know that ain’t exactly true. My family's money. My family's territory. My family's protection. Therefore, my family's shop."
“But, you can’t just come in here and start barking orders.” She emphasized the word you, her hands falling to her hips as her neck rolled.
“Sure I can.”
My eyes flicked to the pretty stylist in the second chair from the front who hadn’t said a word since I walked in. But I peeped the way she clocked me and then Sham the second we stepped through the door. I also recognized her as one of my brother’s girls. Not one he was fucking, but someone who worked for the family. He probably placed her here to make sure his money always stayed on point.
“Hey, sis,” I called like we were friends. “Clear this room for me. Everyone except Karley.”
Jasmine head damn near popped off her body with how fast she regarded her worker. “You will do no such thing. Jada, I swear if you do, you are fired.”
Jada completely ignored her and began moving immediately. “Of course, Mrs. Reed.”
“Donatelli.” I told her happily.
“Right, I forgot you got married.” She smiled just as brightly before gently guiding the few customers not under the dryers into a different section of the salon.
Then I looked at Jasmine and dared her to question what I was about to say. “I think we both know Jada will retain her job, and there won’t be any consequences for her actions today.”
Jasmine’s lips parted, probably to protest, but I stopped her. “I suggest you do as I ask before saying something that would remove this pretty ass shop from your grasp. My beef isn’t with you Miss Jasmine. But I assure you these aren’t the problems you want.”
Jasmine swallowed whatever bullshit thought or words she was going to say, thinking better of it. Which was for the best. Her pride was bruised, but it was better than her new business going up in flames before she could fully get it off the ground. Ultimately, she complied, clearing the rest of her clients and her stylist leaving only me, Sham, and Karley.
The room was free of chatter, with a new music selection humming from the overhead speakers. The girl stared at me confused, but blankly. I had to admit she didn’t look all that fazed to see me.
Which was understandable.
She opened her mouth. “Uh—”
“Do you know who I am,” I cut in. It was cliche’ but sometimes necessary to remind people of the hierarchy.
She blinked, once then twice. “Why would I know you?”
