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Chapter 5

The interior of the Crowned by Curls salon bustled with activity Saturday morning as Hadley entered through the glass doors, with Belinda close behind her. Taking off her sunglasses and tucking them into her purse, Hadley wove her way across the carpeted waiting area to the reception desk.

“Damn, it’s jumping in here today. Good thing we made appointments.” Belinda ran her hand over her close-cropped hair. “I need my waves redone, like, yesterday.”

Hadley chuckled. “Nobody tries to walk in here on a Saturday. At least, nobody who lives here.” Only vacationers, operating on the assumption that a Black-owned salon in a small resort town could never be crowded, tried this.

Lisa, the desk clerk, smiled as the two women approached. She wore the hot-pink scrubs and black apron that constituted the salon’s uniform. “What’s up, Hadley? How you doing, Belinda?”

“We’re good, girl.” Belinda rested her elbows on the counter. “How the kids doing?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Girl, they’re as rambunctious as ever.”

“Y’all ready for us?”

Lisa winked. “You know how we roll here. You come on time for your appointment and we’ll be ready. Go on back—they’re waiting for y’all.”

Circling around the desk, Hadley and Belinda passed through the beaded curtains to the back area of the salon, where the stylists maintained their stations. The fuchsia-painted walls of the salon were dressed with framed images of famous Black women. There were singers, actresses, educators and other luminaries of the race. The black-and-white tile floor hosted the ten stations for hairstylists, as well as four for nail technicians.

Sandra Jackson, the salon’s owner and Hadley’s personal stylist, waved her over to her station. Sandra, whose long, thin blond-highlighted dreadlocks were piled atop her head, ran a tight ship. “Hadley, come on over, girl. I’m ready for you.”

Hadley waved to Belinda, who’d already slipped into Tammy’s chair across the room, and climbed into Sandra’s chair. “Hey, Sandra. How you doing?”

“Good, girl. Business is booming, and I can’t complain.” Picking up a wide-tooth comb, she attempted to sweep it through Hadley’s loose curls. “Maybe I can complain. Girl, haven’t you been detangling your hair?”

Hadley sucked at her bottom lip. “I have, but I didn’t do it last night. And I fell asleep without my silk bonnet.”

Sandra shook her head. “Tsk, tsk. I told you if you don’t want to take care of your hair between visits, we can always shave your head.” She gave Hadley’s shoulder a gentle jab with the end of the comb.

Feeling properly chastised, Hadley shook her head. “No, no. I’ll do better. I just want my usual wash and set. And I probably need a trim.”

Sandra ran her fingers through her hair. “Yes, you do. Your ends are looking a little raggedy, girl. Let’s get you to the shampoo bowl.”

Once Hadley’s tresses had been washed, trimmed and set on rollers, she sat underneath the hooded dryer. No sooner than she opened a magazine to pass the time, Belinda was ushered over and put beneath the dryer next to her.

The moment she was seated, Belinda spoke. “So, tell me. What’s going on with that fine Devon Granger?”

Thanks to Sandra’s investment in ultraquiet hair dryers, Hadley couldn’t pretend not to have heard Belinda. Odds were most of the people in the back of the salon heard her, as well. “Pertaining to what, exactly?”

Belinda rolled her eyes. “Come on, girl. Did you ask him about Captain Vicious coming back for DD3?”

Hadley glanced around and noticed more than a few sets of eyes on her. Apparently, she and Belinda weren’t the only ones curious about what to expect from the next film in the trilogy and the villain everyone loved to hate. “I did, but he’s under a contract that says he can’t tell anyone.”

“So much for getting the scoop on that.” Belinda leaned to her left a bit, as if trying to get closer to her friend. “Did you get any juicy Hollywood news out of him?”

She shook her head. “No filming and no premieres until after the New Year.”

“Sheesh.” Belinda popped her lips. “Well, let’s get down to the real deal, then. Have you made your move on him yet?”

“Nice segue, B.”

Belinda shrugged. “I do what I can. Now give me the dirt.”

Hadley cocked her head to one side, hoping to redirect the hot air to a spot where her head felt more damp. “There’s no dirt. At least, not yet.”

“What are you waiting on? You had better make your move on him before some other woman does.” Belinda tossed one leg over the other. “Remember, Sapphire Shores is a resort town. That means your competition is bigger than just the local girls. It’s all the women traveling here as tourists, too.”

Hadley sighed. She had history with Devon, and not just the past five Christmases spent seeing to his needs at the town house. They’d known each other since childhood, and while they’d never been more than friends in the past, she liked to think their long association counted for something. “True enough, but Devon and I have history.”

“History, indeed. Your history is as the pip-squeak little sister, and his is as the hot friend of your older brother.” Belinda chuckled. “Yeah. Y’all go way back.”

Hadley stuck out her tongue at her friend. She loved Belinda like a sister, but sometimes she could do without her plainspoken honesty. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, B. If you feel that way about it, then why are you pushing me to go after him?”

“It’s like I said. If you don’t, someone else is going to move in on him.”

Hadley fixed her with a glare and waited.

Belinda sighed. “Fine. Look, I’ve known you how long now? Approximately forever, right?”

“That’s about right.” They’d been the tag team of terror for more than a decade.

A Love Like This

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