"we fell in love the way you fall in leaves."
Juwan "Rocky" Rockwell has had a pretty hard life. Between trying to find a way to fend for himself and dealing with the normal hardships of teenage angst, he had nowhere to turn as an adolescent and no...
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"cigarettes and catwalks"
"Quinn, I think someone's here for you," Shanice was attempting to withhold a snicker. I glanced over toward the small foyer, spotting Romeo with his usual clean cut facial hair yet the hair on his head had grown significantly. He's been popping up maybe once a month, trying to get in my chair even when I already had clients. Yet, this time, he was willing to pay upfront and give a hefty tip.
You know how the old saying goes: when money knocks. . .
So, I finally let him sit in my chair and catered to whatever hair needs he requested. "What brings you here this time, Romeo?" "Well, the barbershop doesn't do cornrows, so I figured I'd come here," he gave that ever so charming smile. "So, you figured you'd come here three times without even getting in a chair before actually deciding to get your hair braided?" I kissed my teeth. "If I couldn't get in the best braider's chair then there was no use. Besides, I don't mind coming up here to see your lovely face, Quinn," he winked at me through the mirror.
"Mm-hm," I wasn't going for his shenanigans as I draped a sheet over him. "How's Val?" "Oh, she's really good. She made all A's on her last report card. She misses you," he answered. "I miss her too. Why'd she stop coming here anyway?" I inquired. "Y'all been raising your prices like a motherfucka', Q. My pops ain't goin' for that," Romeo answered. "Hm, well, let him know that I'll take on Val for half the price," I proposed.
"Really?" he glanced up at him as if he didn't believe what I'd just said. "Yeah, really. I love Val. That's my girl right there," I nodded. "Damn, Quinn. You're really nice as hell. That's probably that southern thang, huh?" he smirked, putting on an accent as he usually did when talking to me. "Yeah. You know what's not that southern thang though?" I mocked him. "What?" he asked. "That tired ass accent you keep using," I replied, making him laugh.
"Beautiful, nice, and funny, huh?" he looked at me almost seductively. "Yeah, and to top it all off, I'm not interested in you. I'm the total package, huh?" I cracked a smile at my own sarcasm. He chuckled. "Aw, come on, Q. Let me take you out for lunch or something." "Why do you insist on embarrassing yourself by asking me out?" I inquired while picking out his hair. "Because even when you reject me, I'm getting rejected by the most beautiful woman in this place. It's a win-win," he flashed that smile once more. "Mm-hm. When-when am I getting my money? You said you'd pay upfront, Casanova," I reminded him.
"I got'chu, sweetheart. Don't even fret," he pulled out his entire wallet and went on to set it on the counter. "Name your price."
"Well, cornrows are only about—" "Nah, nah. Don't worry about what you usually charge. Tell me how much you wanna' be paid," he instructed. "Romeo, I'm not just gonna'—" "A hundred you said? Say less," he pulled a crisp bill from the confines of the small leather pocket.
