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The tango classes were a nice thought, though. I guess I didn’t expect to feel so much. I didn’t expect to leave so … full of life.
In my thought spiral, I don’t notice that she’s done. She spins me around, my back to the mirror.
“Are you ready to see it?”
“Not really,” I blurt out. This may have been a bad idea.
Cristina just laughs, taking it all in stride. “I would never steer you wrong, girl.” She spins my chair around and when I look in the mirror, I know that she’s right, and I can’t help but smile, too.
A choppy bob cut right above my shoulders. My natural rich brown hair color accentuated with some beachy waves.
“Do you love it?” she asks in her ever-present excited tone.
That girl in the mirror, she looks like she’s ready for something new.
“I love it.”
Chapter eight
Julieta
I’m still getting usedto my new hair. The ends that used to touch halfway down my back now tickle the sides of my neck, but I can’t deny it’s been a welcome addition to this end-of-summer heat.
I walk briskly down the sidewalk to the entrance of The Ivy, a trendy restaurant downtown in the financial district where Agostina works. I like to stop in every so often to say hi and chat, usually meeting Delfi here to spend some time together outside of family dinners. Once I step in, I wave to the hostess and signal that I’m headed to the bar.
Agostina has worked here for seven years now serving and occasionally bartending. She’s hoping to make it to head bartender, but for now she just fills in when she’s asked to. I’m nervous about what her reaction to my hair will be, my heart beating in my chest as I make my way to a barstool. She looks up then, just as I adjust in my seat.
“Oh shit!” She gasps in surprise, reaching out to touch my hair.
I roll my eyes, but secretly want the praise. The validation that I made the right decision. So much for wanting to live my own life.
“Midlife crisis looks good on you, Julie.”
“Hi to you too, asshole.”
She laughs at that, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek. She eyes my hair again, a smile still gracing her face. “It looks really good.”
“Thanks.” I blush. “How’s work?”
“Not too bad. About to get busy. We’ve got some bigger parties coming in in about fifteen minutes.”
The bar is a large rectangle, with the top made of polished dark wood and seating on either side. There are glass shelves of liquor suspended in the middle, twinkling lights wrapped around to add a cozy feel. The lights reflect off the bottles, making everything glow. I’m sure she’s tired of looking at it, but for me, it’s always been a little bit magical.
Bar patrons are scattered about, drinking and chatting, picking at food. Trevor, another bartender, is mixing drinks for guests. Everything is still relatively calm and quiet. My eyes scan the crowd, people watching, and along the other side of the bar they snag on a familiar face. Messy dark hair, lush lips. And when we make eye contact, the furrowed brows give him right away.
I notice a drink in Logan’s hand as he’s lifting it to his lips to take a sip, and that’s possibly the reason for the smile he gives me now: a small one, tucked into a corner of his mouth, but showing a lot of restraint.
“Julie,” he says with purpose.
The bar area between us is maybe a generous twelve feet, and I can hear him clearly. I’m almost taken aback by the fact that he remembers my name. It was only two days ago, I know, but still.
“You cut your hair,” he adds.
My hands fly to my ends, and I’m suddenly self-conscious. This was too short.Shit.
“It looks nice,” he tells me reassuringly, eyes sparkling.
Agostina is busy making drinks for a bar that is quickly filling up so she doesn’t hear him say this, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’d like to keep this my secret for now.
