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Fifteen minutes later, her client stood. “Sara, this isn’t working. You’ve already rescheduled me once, and now I’m going to be late for my next appointment. I need to find someone else. I’m sorry.” Waving a hand absently, she rushed out the door into the late afternoon. Sara’s eyes filled with tears as she tried to keep an even expression.
“Sorry about that.” The woman in her chair shot her an awkward smile.
Sara blinked away the tears and set down her shears. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault at all. What do you think?”
The woman studied her reflection. “I’ve been going to Jenny for a year now. But honestly, you did a much better job. Thanks.”
At least someone’s happy...
An hour later, Sara locked the front door and turned around to face the carnage. Once again, she had bounced between two stations, trying to keep up. She had cleaned after each client, but there was no denying the two stations were a disaster. Ok, time to get this straightened up. She grabbed a broom.
High-heeled footsteps echoed in the silent room as Mathilde strode from her office. “Good God, Sara. This place looks terrible. Can’t you even clean up after yourself?”
That’s it! Sara threw the broom on the floor and rounded on her. “No, Mathilde, I can’t clean up after myself. Not when I have to work two stations for eight hours straight. Trying to do the impossible and keep everyone happy. You know what happened today? I lost one of my best clients!”
Mathilde’s hair was curled in loose waves that fell forward as she inclined her head. “I know you’ve been working hard these two days. If Jenny calls in sick again, she’s gone.”
Sara stood with both hands on her hips, not even trying to keep her voice down anymore. “It’s not just Jenny! I’m the only one still showing up. Maybe if you treated your workers like human beings, they wouldn’t call in sick all the time. Did you ever think of that?”
“Stop it. This is one of the most prestigious salons in Charleston. You’re lucky to work here.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re the one who’s lucky to have me. But that’s ending. Now. I quit, Mathilde. I’ll gather my supplies, then I’m out of here. So long.” She whirled around and, grabbing her clippers and shears, packing everything into a wooden box.
Mathilde finally recovered her voice, clutching the pearls around her neck. “You can’t just quit with no notice!”
“Yeah? Watch me.” Sara slammed her box shut and stomped toward the door.
“I can make sure you never work in this town again, Sara. Don’t be stupid.”
Sara didn’t bother to respond, but a wide smile spread across her face as she crossed the parking lot to her car.
I won’t need to work in this town again.
As soon as she got home, she slammed her box on the kitchen counter and called Hope. “Are you still looking for a stylist?”
“Hello to you too. You sound a little stressed.”
“I just quit my job. That bitch pushed me too far today.”
“Well, I happen to know someone much nicer who still needs a stylist and manager. But only the best will do.”
Sara grinned, already feeling the weight falling from her shoulders. “Well today is your lucky day. Look out St. Croix. Sara Collins is on her way.”
CHAPTER 5
Jack strode down the brick walkway toward the gear room at Ocean Surf Resort. Cameron walked next to him, tying his long, bleached-blond hair into a manbun. Jack refrained from rolling his eyes. Though several years younger than Jack, Cameron had been a divemaster at Ocean Surf for several years and therefore outranked him. And he wasn’t shy about flaunting that.
Mark Lowry, the instructor and manager, pulled the two men aside. “We’ve got a full boat today. Due to a scheduling mix up, you’ll have to take extra people in your groups. Cameron, you’ve got ten, and Jack, you’ve got twelve.”
“Twelve?” Jack asked, raking a hand through his hair. He glanced at the ocean and relaxed sightly at its flat-calm appearance. “Good thing it’s a nice day.”
“Yeah, I know it’s a lot. We’ll pick easy dive sites today to minimize any problems.” Mark nodded and headed toward the office.
Cameron smirked at Jack as they continued. “We can switch if you want. I don’t have any problem with that many.”
Jack stared him down. “I didn’t say it was a problem. It’s just not ideal. Someone’s bound to kick up sand and ruin things for everyone else.” But it was a problem if something went wrong. Twelve was a lot of divers to keep track of.
The two men entered the dark, cluttered gear room. Most of the BCDs hung on hangers, but several were piled up in a corner. Regulators hung crookedly on the wall, several to each hook. Cameron made a beeline for the regulators. “I’ll grab the regs. You can load the tanks.”
