“He wanted so much more for you than that!” She scolded as she gave him a shake. “Chris didn’t want you to just survive. He wanted you to be happy and to see you laugh!” Marcy said then pointed at his face. “I’m fixing this too. I like it but it needs a little shape,” she explained.
“Sure. As long as I don’t look like I’m trying too hard,” he said and she laughed.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Don’t do something I can’t carry off,” Grant muttered and tightly gripped the arms of his chair underneath the cape as she grabbed the electric clippers.
“What are you talking about? You’re gorgeous and I don’t understand why you’re afraid to get out there. You’d be set if you were straight, I can’t think of a single girl who isn’t in love with you. It sucks that Walter’s the only other single gay man we know…” She mused as she worked at the scruff on Grant’s face. “Audrey told me you caved and downloaded Tinder.”
“I did it so she’d shut up. I’m not going on Tinder,” he vowed and she sighed hard.
“How else are you going to meet someone? You don’t like to go out and you don’t have other friends who can set you up on blind dates,” she argued and Grant’s face twisted at the thought.
“I don’t want to go on a blind date either.”
“You’re not leaving yourself with many options,” she said as she bent forward and trimmed along the underside of his jaw. He waited until she stepped back to shrug again.
“Why can’t I wait until I meet someone the usual way?” He countered and she rolled her eyes.
“Because you’ll never meet someone. You never go anywhere but the coffee shop unless Edgar’s due for a checkup or needs stitches,” she complained and he flashed her a sheepish wince.
“I met someone today,” he confessed.
“What?” She said and the hand holding the clippers and her jaw fell. Grant bit into his lip as he reconsidered. He knew she was going to want to strangle him but she was also wrong about him never meeting anyone.
“There was a really hot guy in The Six Beans this morning and he wanted to exchange numbers,” he told her and she gasped excitedly as she spun him away from the mirror.
“Have you called him?” She asked and Grant shook his head.
“God, no. I didn’t even get his number. I completely freaked out and ran,” he said and she groaned even harder.
“Graaaaant! Why?”
“You didn’t see him, Marcy!” He laughed. “First of all, I don’t think he was much more than thirty but that doesn’t matter. He drove an eight-hundred-thousand dollar sports car and wore a twelve-thousand dollar suit. He sounded like old money and he smelled like…” His hand flailed vaguely under the cape as he tried to find some way to describe how miraculous he smelled. “Like a baby…but sexy,” he said and she shrank back.
“Ew. A sexy baby?” She asked in confused horror and he threw up his hands.
“This is why I never talk to people! He smelled soft and clean, like baby powder but also a little like a barbershop and a kind of peppery?” He attempted and she laughed softly.
“I know exactly what you mean,” she said and she snipped away happily as her fingers swept through Grant’s hair. She’d cut his hair since they were teenagers and he always melted as her fingers absently massaged and sifted while she worked. His fingers eventually uncurled from around the armrests and his eyes became heavier as she babbled and hummed. Grant decided that aside from his tragic encounter with the gorgeous stranger at The Six Beans, the day had turned out nicely. “So, why did you run from the sexy baby in the expensive suit?” She asked and Grant was on his way to hating the day again.
“I was wearing Sambas and a cardigan with elbow patches. I almost dropped Audrey off in my pajama pants but I made myself put on jeans because I knew I’d want coffee. I don’t know if he left his glasses at home or put his contacts in backwards but that guy isn’t going to be into someone like me. And I wouldn’t know what to say to someone like that. We’d have nothing in common,” he explained then yelped when she swatted him on the nose with the comb. “Hey!”
“Stop doing that! You’re a total catch!” She insisted.
“I’m a mess.”
“My brother didn’t think so. He thought you were the best person he’d ever met and so do I,” Marcy said firmly. Grant rolled his eyes and ignored that they were watering and the slight tremble in his lip.
“I was perfect, when I had Chris. But the guy in the coffee shop doesn’t have time for a worn out mess like me.”
“I don’t know…” Marcy said as she stepped back then turned the chair so Grant could see himself. “I think he’d make time,” she purred as she gave his hair a shake.
“Wow,” Grant breathed as he stared at his reflection. She trimmed the sides a lot closer than he usually liked and left the front a little longer, so it fell in soft waves over his brow. His stubble was neatened and made his chin and jaw look leaner and more defined.
“I can’t tell if that was a good ‘Wow’ or a freaked out ‘Wow’,” Marcy said as she peeked over his shoulder.
“It’s a good ‘Wow’,” he replied distantly and wondered if he would be a little less terrified facing Mr. Marvelous in The Six Beans if he saw him again. Grant’s shoulders pulled back and he felt like less of a slob. He was glad he put on trousers and wore the sage green shirt Audrey always said made his eyes look nice. Grant barely recognized himself as he refocused on his reflection. “Maybe I should start running more and working out again,” he murmured and Marcy bit down on her lips to hold back a smile.
“If you want. I think you look pretty hot, just the way you are,” she said as she picked up the blow dryer and her brush then cleaned all the clipped hairs off his neck. Grant decided it wouldn’t hurt him to lose ten or fifteen pounds. He’d never be as fit as the god in the expensive suit but Grant might feel a little braver the next time someone asked for his number.
Chapter 5
Royce screwed the suppressor onto the end of his Walther PPK then looked around to make sure it was clear. He eased his door open and rested the gun across his lap then pulled the trigger. His eyes darted across the storefronts and doorways but no one heard the muffled pop or the soft hiss as Weatherly’s right rear tire deflated. Royce quickly unscrewed the suppressor and returned it to the holster with his gun. He got out and casually jogged to the sidewalk then pushed his hands in his pockets and strolled, glancing into shop windows as he waited for Weatherly to come out of the Hair She Goes salon.
Weatherly’s sister-in-law, Marcy Bryant co-owned a small salon in Aspenville with a mutual friend of theirs named Walter Newberry. Newberry was a sixty-two-year-old gay man and a fixture in the local community. He was also a talented dress designer and famous for hosting wild costume parties and fundraisers for the local pet shelter. Marcy owned the rest of the building and lived in the apartment above the beauty salon. Walter lived in the brightly painted Victorian house with the wraparound porch on the opposite corner of the street. It was white but the porch and trim were painted in rainbow pastels and the result looked like a giant dollhouse.