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“When’s your next client due?”
Daryn glanced at the large clock on the wall. “Ten minutes. It’s an easy cut and color. Just roots. We did highlights last time. Her hair’s in a classic bob.” Daryn jerked her head toward Poppy. “She could do it.”
“You’re very trusting.”
“I don’t understand,” Poppy said. “You want me to take Daryn’s client?”
“Right now I want you to stay here. Once we figure this out, you can stop by my office at the end of your shift.”
Erica swung by reception to request notification when Daryn’s client checked in, then she returned to the main salon and walked over to the orange-haired liar.
The woman was in her early forties, pretty enough. Her Botox wasn’t great and whoever had injected her lips had added way too much filler, but her jawline was good.
Erica introduced herself to the woman, who stared at her blankly.
“Oh my God! You’re Erica Sawyer.”
Oh, good. A fan—or at least someone who was starstruck. That would help the situation.
Erica leaned against the counter and shook her head. “Well, we messed up, didn’t we?”
The tears returned as the client stared at herself in the mirror. “I can’t believe what happened. That girl—I didn’t get her name—said she knew what she was doing. Obviously not. I’m surprised you let someone like her work here. I thought Twisted was better than that.”
Erica shifted behind the client and lightly touched her hair. “How long have you been coloring your own hair?”
“What?” The woman flushed. “I would never do that.”
“The problem isn’t the color so much as the minerals some companies use. I could explain the chemistry, but as you can see, box color doesn’t play well with others. When Poppy went to lift what she’d been told was virgin hair, the minerals revealed themselves. You must admit, it’s a spectacular orange.”
She rested her hands on the other woman’s shoulders. “Our biggest worry is your hair falling out.”
“What!” The single word came out as a shriek. Several clients turned to stare. “No. No! You can’t let that happen.”
The tears flowed hard and fast. “Please, help me. Okay, yes, I’ve been coloring my hair myself for years. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I’m sorry. Just save my hair. Please.”
Erica had little patience for the client. Just tell the truth. If she’d come clean, Poppy would have known she was over her head and could have rescheduled her with a more experienced stylist. End of problem.
“We’re going to get you back to a more normal color,” Erica said, her tone soothing. “I would suggest going a little shorter until the damage grows out. We’ll send you home with some treatments that will strengthen your hair. If you’re careful, in a few months, you’ll be as good as new. Then we can take you from a fabulous brunette to a gorgeous blonde.”
She let her expression harden. “If you color your hair before it’s grown out, it will break and break until you’re left with about an inch all over. Understand?”
The woman nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” Erica paused. “Color correction is six hundred dollars, triple what you were quoted. Sometimes clients lie to get cheaper service, but I’m sure you’d never do that.”
The woman flushed again. “No, I wouldn’t. I’ll pay what it costs.”
Erica held her gaze in the mirror for another couple of seconds before offering a faint smile. “We’ll stick with the quoted price. Daryn will be here shortly to walk you through the process. She’s one of the best. You’re in good hands.”
Erica stopped by reception again and tagged the account so the client would only pay the original price. Hopefully she had enough class to tip Daryn well. She sent her office manager a quick note to let her know Daryn was to be fully paid for the service, then she introduced herself to Daryn’s client and explained about the crisis.
“If you’d like to reschedule with Daryn, we’ll get you in as soon as we can. If you’re willing to take a chance on Poppy, I think you’ll be happy with her work. It’s totally up to you.” Erica paused. “Either way, I’d like to give you a complimentary hair mask treatment. As a thank-you for understanding.”
The client glanced past Erica toward the salon. She flinched.
“Is it the woman with the hideous orange hair? What happened?”
Erica smiled. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. So you’ll give Poppy a try?”
