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"Still. Misty’s not going to be happy. You know how militant she is."
I crumple the empty wrapper in my fist. "I didn't tell Griff to come here. He's not my boyfriend, and I didn't hump him in the shampoo room." I mean, I might have had a dirty fantasy or five, but there was no actual action.
"I'd have humped him in the shampoo room," Chloe declares. "He's that kind of fine—the kind of fine that's worth losing your job over."
"No man is that fine," Stephen disagrees.
"You didn't see him so your opinion doesn't count." Chloe spins in her chair. "Come on and help me out here. It's your boyfriend I'm defending."
"He's not my boyfriend." The intercom announces that my next client has arrived. I toss my wrapper. "But even if he was, I'd come down on Stephen's side. No guy is worth losing my job over."
After finishing the next three clients, I drag my tired ass to the breakroom and crack open a full-throttle, all caffeine, allsugar Coke. I deserve it. Halfway through the can, Misty appears wearing a frown.
"We have rules in place regarding seeing acquaintances during work hours.”
I stare at her blankly, not registering her remarks because my head is full of hair spray and dye fumes. Her frown deepens.
“Griffin?” I finally ask. “I don’t know what you think, but nothing happened.”
“You gave him a shampoo.”
I did, which was a mistake and I don’t want to compound it by fighting with Misty. “You’re right.”
Griff isn’t an acquaintance, but I made the mistake of agreeing to lunch. In Misty’s eyes, that means something. Hell, in anyone’s eyes, it probably means something except for Griff. He probably has a whole special note in his phone of the different women he’s seeing.
“If it happens again, if you have anyone here during work hours that’s not a legitimate client, you’re fired. You’re a great colorist, but I can’t have you breaking the rules like this. It sets a bad precedence.”
She sounds serious. I gulp down my anxiety and nod. “I hear you. It won’t happen again.”
“Close up today,” she orders, and I don’t argue even though that’s not my schedule. Stephen and Chloe send me sympathetic looks as they file out with the rest of the staff at the end of the night. Chloe mouths an apology as if she’s responsible for Misty’s tyranny. As I’m cleaning out the last drain, I get a text.
It’s not from the sexy manhunk or from my mom telling me she won the lottery. It’s Roberta Ware. I’m to meet her at the park ASAP to discuss our next steps. I’ll next step my heel into her throat, how about that?
In the end, though, I show up because she’s got me by the short and curlies. And it hurts like hell.
Chapter Nine
GRIFF
“You sure you want to bail this kid out?” Staff Sergeant Pantalini asks me. It was a surprise to find Pantalini at this station since he used to be on the Academy neighborhood beat, but it worked out well for me.
“Yup. Dating his sister, and she won’t let me in the house if I don’t come home with him.” This is mostly true.
“Normally, we wouldn’t arrest a kid for picking up something off the street, but the victim was insistent and he had priors.” He shrugs. “You should leave him here. I bet after a few nights in the slammer, he’d straighten up.”
Doubtful. He probably needs a full four years at a military school. I’d propose this to Lauren, but she’d be more likely to kick me in the balls with my own boots than praise me for a good idea. The thing is that my head got screwed on straight in a quick second after I'd joined the military, and I think it’d be the same for Mick. A regular schedule, specific expectations, and consistent discipline will turn this punk into a man.
“Yo, Murphy, your guardian angel is here,” yells Pantalini.
Mick rushes to the cell door only to fall back when he spots me. I grin at him. He blanches.That’s right, you little motherfucker. You should be scared of me.
“Where’s my sister?” Mick demands. “I don’t know who the fuck this is. I should only be released to my sister.”
“You’re nineteen, aren’t you?” Pantalini asks. He sticks his key into the lock.
Mick sticks his chin out. “Yeah, what of it?”
“Then I can release you to whomever I goddamned want. City doesn’t want to house you anymore.” Pantalini jerks the door open. “Time to get gone.”
