Chapter 3

"I don't get it! Why did you even set me up with him?" I keep complaining to Hannah about that horrible date last night. Didn't she know that no girl likes a guy who pretends that he knows everything about the world?

Hannah is apologetic when she replies, "I just thought that you would be great partners. He was our high school valedictorian. He's a successful man and you, Ana, you are a successful woman for having this successful business."

"Yeah, that would go on well if only he is interested with my success too. Trust me, he only talks about himself."

She looks down and says, "I just thought that you would talk about your night and how successful the two of you are."

"You know what we talked about, Hannah? We talked about planets. Planets!"

Then, the Hannah I first met came back. I mentally chastise myself for not being sensitive. Hannah is such a softy. You must be careful when it comes to her as she is very fragile. Before I know it, her fingers are quivering and her upper lip is hidden behind her lower lip and her b0dy visibly trembles as if she wants to cry at this moment.

I immediately lock her in for an embrace, "Oh Hannah, don't cry. I am not mad, okay?"

"You are not mad?" She looks up to reveal her glistening hazel eyes. She reminds me of a helpless child.

"No, I am not mad. I am just complaining. Now focus on your job, okay?"

She nods and her working demeanor comes back. She welcomes new customers while keeping record of our days in the blue notebook. Wendy as a friend must be understood. She must not be yelled at. One raise of a voice can make her hide in a corner and cry. It would be annoying and there are times when you can't control it but you just have to understand her.

Hannah survived an abusive marriage. She was nineteen when she got married and twenty-five when she got divorced. There's always fear in her eyes and I hope one day it will disappear. Having her as a worker is a struggle too especially when we have complaints. I just hope nobody complains today.

Somebody complains!

At ten thirty in the morning, the salon's door swings open to give an entrance to a fiery angry woman. Her skin is so red from the anger she's feeling. Everybody's attention is caught when she slams her palm to Hannah's reception desk.

She starts yelling, "How can you all be so stupid?! How can you do this to me? All I want is to have the perfect nail color for my daughter's wedding tomorrow and what have you done? You painted my nails black! You painted them black! Do you want my daughter to think that I don't like her husband? Her husband is a pilot! Who doesn't like a pilot for a son-in-law?! I want a refund. I want a refund!"

This woman is one of our regular customers. Her name is Velma and this has been the first time she ever complained. Velma and Hannah are trapped in a staring contest when Hannah bursts out crying. Yes, she's crying like a baby. Velma immediately steps back completely fazed about my friend's reaction.

I immediately run to them and give Hannah a hug. I call one of my barbers who is just sitting down to take her in the staff room and make her feel relaxed.

Velma clears her throat and guiltily says, "I don't mean to make her cry but I just don't want black nails for my daughter's wedding."

The thing about customer service is that you always have to apologize. The customer is always right so you just have to deal with that genuinely.

"Velma, you have been a valued customer for years and we are very sorry for this inconvenience. If I were you, I'd be mad as well. Black for a wedding? That is not acceptable."

"Right! And your stupid pedicurist painted my nails black instead of lilac!"

"The pedicurist is Amanda I am so sorry for this dilemma," I want to yell at that girl. She's only been here for weeks but she's causing nuisance. Velma spots Amanda from behind me and begins yelling all the words she yelled at Hannah. She claimed that black is a color for a funeral and not for a wedding, and that she doesn't want her daughter to think that "she doesn't like a pilot for a son-in-law".

"Huh?" Velma becomes more aggravated when Amanda was in her earphones the whole time she yelled. I hate this day! This has been too dramatic.

"Amanda, please go to the staff room, okay? We are going to have a talk later. Velma, don't worry because we are going to redo your nails."

"I want a refund!"

"As much as I'd like to give you a refund, I'm afraid that it's against the rules. But don't you worry. The redo is free, okay? Now come with me." I lead her upstairs and I am glad that she's very calm. The rule in handling complaints in a beauty salon include redo but not refund. After all, the goal is to make them feel good about themselves.

She sits down the leather chair and I watch one of my employees apply acetone to erase the black nail polish.

I am glad that this has been resolved. What I need to do is fire Amanda.

"Hey Ana! What happened downstairs?" Leila asks while working on a teenager's nails.

I tell her all about the drama and she disapproves about Amanda's behavior. In fact, Leila gives me more reason to fire Amanda.

"That girl is not focused on her job. Why is she even here? You have to love your job to here. Trust me, when you are not looking, she puts on her earphones and listens to random music. Ugh. I hate it. It's just so unprofessional. This isn't the first time we received complaints because of her."

That's true. Velma's complaint would be the third. The first is when a customer becomes so offended because of her rudeness. The second is when she claimed she's a nail artist but ended up scribbling instead. She would always beg me not to fire her because "she needs her job". But if she truly needs her job, then she must show value to it.

Leila adds, "What happened earlier was that Velma told her to paint her nails lilac but she must have only lip read since she painted them black. Amanda was in her earphones the whole time. Meanwhile, Velma's too busy to notice since she was on the phone the whole time. She's pretty busy for tomorrow's wedding."

"I will deal with Amanda later," that's all I tell Leila.

I shift my attention to Leila's work. Is that a face on each of the teenager's nails? Yes, it's a face of a young boy!

"Oh, that looks good. May I know who that is?" I ask the teenager.

"That's my boyfriend. We are going to have our first anniversary tomorrow."

Huh? So this is her gift? His face on her nails?

"How old are you?" I ask in a tone which she won't find offensive.

"Fourteen."

That's it! Tomorrow there's going to be a wedding and an anniversary for kids and what about me? What about me?

I go downstairs again.

~~~23 Dates~~~

Hannah is fine now. She's back to greeting everyone with a smiling face, but deep inside I know that she's scared. I really feel for her. No woman deserves to feel the same way she does. I admire her strength though. I know that she really wants to help herself.

Another regular customer enters the salon and it's the hotshot young CEO from across the street. I swear everybody swoons when they see him. I cannot blame them though. He really is hot.

Christian Grey is the CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. It's the eighty storied building right in front of the salon. All he has to do is cross the pedestrian lane and he's going to the have the greatest haircut of his life. He doesn't let anyone cut his hair if it's not Jose. I cannot blame him though. Jose's a really good barber and he knows what's best for the customers. It's an honor to have a CEO come here for a haircut twice a week for the last two years.

He opts for the combination of Slick Back and Side Part haircut. His face becomes more attractive especially when his hair is copper to the left side while the right side is cleanly shaved. He becomes manlier with that. Apart from his hair, what makes him more attractive is his neat stubble which is maintained perfectly by my salon itself.

His eyes are so grey it's almost transparent and his jaw is perfectly shape to the point that he could be an actor to play Superman. He's always in his white shirt unbuttoned on top. Unlike the other days, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows revealing his set of tattoos. How can he get to be this hot? It almost hurts.

Yes, I had a huge crush on him before but I stopped since he doesn't seem to be interested with anyone. He doesn't even talk to Jose. When he comes here, he grabs the latest copy of Forbes Magazine and reads it with scrutiny. He doesn't really talk much.

My over-imaginative side would say that Christian Grey might be a wolf and his company may be all about wolves. Maybe everybody is a werewolf there and that's why he's so secretive. Maybe the tattoos on his arms are his marks for being the chosen Alpha. Oh, what if this is true. I imagine Christian howl and it's the sexiest thing ever.

"Ana, why are you howling?"

Oh, no. I zoned out and Chico saw me. I immediately straighten my back and answer, "I wasn't howling. I was trying to whistle."

"Okay," Chico looks unconvinced while dying the hair of a girl in her twenties. He adds, "So how was your date last night?"

"Don't remind me," I snort.

The moment Chico uttered the word "date", I saw Christian Grey's eyes piercingly stare at me in my peripheral vision. There was something there that I couldn't point out. It was like . . . anger coming from his eyes. But maybe I'm being over-imaginative again?

"That bad, huh?" Chico continues.

"He likes planets, Chico. He is practically in love with planets. I mean there's nothing wrong about that but could he just refrain from making me feel like I am stupid? I mean it's not my fault that I am not scholarly like his family."

"Doesn't he think that you're a successful woman for putting up this business?"

"He thinks that beauty salons don't contribute to the society."

Chico gasps and he touches his chest. He feels so betrayed.

"That's how I felt last night," I tell Chico.

I don't even want to remember yesterday. I commend my staff for throwing all of the balloons away. There is no trace of my twenty ninth birthday yesterday and that makes me feel so much better. The only good thing that happened was when I went home and my parents sent me a birthday message in a form of a video. That was the only good thing. Oh, and Mr. Mittens too. He was such a great cat last night.

Chico informs, "I have a friend who wants to date."

My interest is suddenly grabbed, "Really?"

"If it's fine with you then you're gonna see each other next week. Trust me, he's harmless."

"Good, I will see him then. What's his name?"

"Chase"

"Chase," I say his name like it's the most delicate name in the world. In fact, it's a really lovely name. What if . . . he could be the one? Why am I feeling excited already? The date's next week!

Concealing my excitement I ask the girl Grey is attending to, "Hello Ma'am. What's the color you chose for your hair?"

She cheerfully answers, "Blue!"

"Cool! May I know why?"

"I love Cookie Monster."

Oh, well.

Hannah needs to use the lavatory so I take her place again. I receive the payments while the tips are personally given to the personnel. Christian Grey is done with his haircut and there he goes again: looking like a werewolf supermodel.

"What a lovely haircut, Sir!" I say cheerfully as soon as he stands before me.

He doesn't say anything. His intimidating aura precedes him once more. He pulls his expensive wallet out and gives me the payment.

"Thank you, Sir! I hope you have a great day. See you next week."

Yes, Christian Grey comes here every week for "maintenance". Sometimes he would come twice a week. If you ask me, he doesn't need to come per week. His hair doesn't grow that fast.

He shocks me with his response, "You're going out on a date?"

I am too astounded to speak. I slowly nod my head.

I can't read his emotions afterwards. He seems so mysterious to me even when he speaks. Those grey eyes are so much of a mystery.

Before he exits the spa he leaves me even more astounded, "I know it's a bit late but happy birthday."

I am left frozen like a statue staring at the newly closed door.

What do you think about the story? I will update the next chapter.

Thank you so much for reading!

Thoughts?

Margo.