XY XX

HAIRDO

"Good morning, Xenia."

"Good morning, Gregory."

"Bonjour," Sia said smiling.

Meeting in front of the lift became a habit. Gregory smiled back at Sia, who Xenia pulled closer to her leg.

As Gregory watched the mother and the daughter, the man thought their resemblance was striking. Also, he wondered how Sia's father looked.

Gregory's gaze couldn't stop from roaming on Xenia's hair. Every day the woman harbored another hairdo, straight, curly, wavy, and today she was natural with an afro.

All the hairstyles seemed to suit her; it was like meeting a different woman every morning and quite a refreshing sight for the man who began to understand why the woman fascinated her co-workers.

Always smiling, Xenia's cynical and sarcastic sense of humor pleased those around her. Xenia avoided talks about her private life and ranted freely around the coffee machine, entertaining everyone. As far as work went, she did the job as she proved with her all-nighter.

"What is it?" Xenia bluntly asked, feeling the man's gaze upon her.

"Your hair."

"What's with my hair?"

"They're," started Gregory as he stretched out his hand like he did the first time he arrived in the building.

Xenia dodged, and the man retracted his hand. Gregory cleared his throat; he said, "nice."

Xenia gave a crooked smile and walked out of the lift with Sia, who waved enthusiastically at the man as they parted ways in front of the building.

Gregory wondered if Xenia would arrive at work on time as he watched Xenia walk away in her suit and sneakers.

XY XX

"Bonjour, Monsieur Carlton, "Mr. Scheck from the security said as he passed his bag for checking.

"Bonjour, Messieurs," Gregory said, giving a general greeting to the ensemble of the men present. He made a mental note to ask Wendon to establish a procedure for employees remaining in the building after working hours.

In the lift, Xenia's hair came back to Gregory's mind as he recalled all the haircuts he had seen her with, he smiled remembering when she had told him to ask Naomi or Beyoncé. Gregory blushed as he recalled how he went to look it up on the net. Never had he paid attention to woman's hairstyles though he gave out compliments.

The former army captain discovered another facette of women and felt disconnected as he read about wigs, sew-ins, and extensions.

Today, for instance, Gregory knew Xenia wore her real hair. For some reason, he just wanted to touch them. The tiny curls looked soft and fluffy, and the man had an irresistible desire, which he repressed of tugging on Xenia's springy curls.

The urge never appeared when she had her other hairdos. It only occurred when it was her natural hair as if Gregory unconsciously wanted to touch the real her. Of course, he accepted and appreciated seeing the rest, but there was something about her puffy afro he was fond of to the point he wondered if he was a hair fetishist.

The idea stuck, so he was attentive to the coiffures he saw: Red, blonde, black, greasy, gelled, long, medium, short, oh shortㅡ.

"Jaila, good morning."

"Good morning, Gregory."

Gregory stared at Jaila's hair.

"Is there a problem, Gregory?"

"Have you ever thought of growing your hair?"

Jaila turned and gave Gregory a smirk, "do I hear, right?"

"It's just curiosity."

"Well, I was in the army, Gregory, and I prefer ponytails on other women. Why are you asking?"

"I just realized I've never seen you with long hair, not even a bob."

Jaila smiled as they walked into Wendon's office; his time working with Xenia was over. Now Gregory worked in other departments. Every morning he had a meeting with Jaila and Wendon to resume the situation and advancements.

XX XY

Xenia arrived on time; she went to the toilets to check the state of her hair. Wearing an afro was not an easy task, mostly when there was some humidity in the air, and she had no desire to wear her hair in its shrunken state.

Staring at her reflection, Xenia liked what she saw. Wigs and weaves were just accessories now. The time where she hid her hair to please Mark, who preferred long silky black hair, was over.

No more relaxers. If Xenia wanted bone straight hair, the wigs did the job. With Sophia, Mark got what he liked hair-wise, and Xenia gained her capillary freedom.

Her hair was a kinky 4C-whatever type; she didn't retain what YouTubers said. She loved her roots and the Xenia she was today. Xenia lost the love of a man who estimated she was not good enough, but she learned to love a side of her she neglected in exchange.

"At it, girl, you are swaggy," Xenia said to her reflection in the mirror as she adjusted the collar of her suit.

XY XX

The day's morning meeting was particular. They were to prepare a meeting with the CEO of SOLAS, a Mexican Pharmaceutical company with whom they had to renew contracts. Their mini discussion was to be followed by a meeting with the department heads, negotiating with SOLAS.

As Wendon talked, Gregory's thoughts wandered off; the occasions of crossing Xenia at work were slim now. Their arguments animated his days, and the man could help but think work was boring without her.

"Gregory, Gregory, are you listening?" Wendon asked.

Gregory adjusted his position in his chair and his tie, "Ah, yes, you were saying?"

"Oh, don't mind him. He has been daydreaming since we got here," Jaila said as she shook her head in disapproval.

Gregory threw her why-are-you-boot-licking stare and received a slight smirk from the woman, who turned and looked at Wendon with admiration.

"Jaila, please don't look at me like that. It's intimating," Wendon said. The man used to having his authority shone by either one of his friends couldn't handle the immediate obedience.

Wendon pursued, and Gregory posed his elbows on the table linking his hands under his lips. He dropped back in his daydream, unconsciously touching his mouth with his hands.

"Okay, we're good said Wendon, let' see the heads."

The trio got up to go to the Eiffel meeting room, which faced in the Tour Eiffel's direction.

Jaila approached Gregory and whispered, "you really need to have sex."

"What theㅡ," Gregory said, jumping out of his daze at Jaila's remark.

"You're hungry. All your body language is indicating it," Jaila pursued.

"What are you talking about?" Wendon asked.

"I was saying that Gregory had some sexual tension."

"I do not."

"You do too."

"You do, Gregory, we can whiff you," Wendon added.

"Yep, you are like a lion during mating season," Jaila said, opening the meeting room door.

"You two are beyond help, I swear, you two areㅡ."