“Okay folks, we have a busy day and we’re still short-handed, so,” Kenni paused, “if you’ll just hang in with me I promise we’ll get some help soon.”  Their daily staff meeting usually degenerated into a gossip fest.  What did she expect when the “staff” consisted of her two wackiest friends?     

     Raylene Yarborough was the darling of the blue-haired set – that girl could process the tightest perm in all Georgia.  And then there was Tallulah Tucker – just call her Toolie – an expatriate from a posh Atlanta salon and a favorite of the avant-garde girls.  

     “Hon,” Raylene popped her gum in rhythm to a Martina McBride tune, “have you managed to round up a date for the wedding?” 

     Kenni huffed a sigh.  Business always played second fiddle to chitchat and today wasn’t any different.

     “No, and how much shampoo do we need to order?”

     “Really?  Time’s a wastin’.”  Raylene fluffed her already big hair.  “Toolie hon, you know any eligible men?”

     “How about conditioner?” Kenni asked, even though she knew that changing the subject would be like turning back the tide.

     “Are you kidding?  All the guys in my acquaintance, sort of, you know, like bat for the other team.”  Toolie raised her eyebrows for emphasis.

     “What does our client list look like for today?”

     Raylene and Toolie were so busy trying to micro-manage her social life they didn’t bother to answer.

     “And everyone I know is either a redneck or married.  I don’t know which is worse,” Raylene said with a pout.

     “That’s it!  Read my lips.  I do not need a date for the wedding.  I don’t mind going by myself.”

     Raylene and Toolie stared, astounded at her audacious declaration.

     “And don’t look at me like that!”  Aargh!  The ditzy duo meant well, but when they started meddling they made her crazy.

     “Holy cow, would you take a gander at that.”  Raylene had wandered over to the front window and was watching something, or someone, in the park across the street.

     Toolie joined her friend.  “Now that’s what I call eye-candy.”

     “Kenni, come here girl, you’ve got to see this.”  When Raylene put her mind to something she was like a pit bull gnawing on a bone.  

     “No!  We have business to discuss.”

     Raylene and Toolie were practically plastered to the window.  “Well lookie, lookie.  Oh, my, goodness I’m about to swoon.”  When Raylene fanned her face Kenni realized she was fighting a losing battle.

     “Are you sure you don’t want a lookie-loo,” Toolie taunted. “Great black hair and that bad boy look you dig – T-shirt, tight jeans and scuffed boots.  Yummy, yummy.”  She emphasized the point by licking her lips.

     “Hush up.  You two sound like you’re in middle school.”

     “Ooh, dude.  He just stood up and is he ever built,” Toolie continued her running commentary.

     “I’m havin’ a flash of light.”  Raylene tapped a crimson nail on her forehead.

     “What you’re havin’ is a stroke.  Now, both of you get over here so we can finish our business.  We have to get this shop open.”

     “I’m gonna run over there and see if we can hire him to take you to the wedding.”

     “Over my dead body!”  Kenni was about panic.  They really would go for that kind of harebrained stunt.

     “Great idea,” Toolie agreed.  “Make sure he has all his teeth.  We can find him something to wear and make him presentable.  With that bone structure and the right clothes, he’ll look like a million bucks.”

     “No!” Kenni screeched.  “I don’t need a date, and if I did. . .” Her rant was interrupted in mid-stream by Raylene’s next comment.

     “Well ladies, it looks like we’re about to see him up close and personal.  He’s headin’ this way.”

     “Good grief!”  Kenni watched in fascination.  It felt like everything was moving in slow motion.

     The bell above the door tinkled its happy little greeting. Funny, Kenni thought, that used to seem cheerful, but now it sounded more like a psychotic elf banging on a tin can.

     “Ladies,” he said with the slightest hint of a southern accent.  She got the impression that if he’d been wearing a cap, he would have tipped it.

     “I think you might have a job for me.”

     Oh boy, if he could bottle that grin he’d make a million bucks.  Then his comment hit Kenni right between the eyes.  And if Raylene’s bugged out eyes were any indication, she’d received the same message.  Toolie merely giggled.

     “Uh well, um, it’s like this.”  Kenni had no clue what it was like.  Although she’d graduated cum laude with a degree in English she was being amazingly monosyllabic.

     “Well sugar, I don’t think. . .”

     The tall, dark and devastatingly handsome stranger interrupted Raylene.  “I know I can do the job.”  He winked.  “It couldn’t be that hard, and I’m sure the ladies will love me.”

     On that note, Kenni almost swallowed her tongue.  No way would she hop off to the wedding with a hired date – no matter how good looking.  “I’m sorry I don’t think so.”

     The man looked genuinely puzzled.  “Is it because I’m a guy?” 

     “Huh?”

     “Well, I mean, how hard can it be to give someone a shampoo?  I’m a hard worker and I don’t have very many vices.  How about this?  I work free for a couple of days.  That way you can try me out without it costing you a cent.”

     Glory Be!  The guy was applying for the shampoo girl job.  Talk about feeling like an idiot.  Even more disturbing was the fact that out of the blue, Kenni agreed with his plan.    

     “You’re on.  Work today for free and then we can talk.”  Where had that come from?  “Raylene, why don’t you get all his particulars like name, address, social security number, etc?”

     “Thanks, that’s great,” he said with the now familiar grin.

     Kenni hesitated before she took the hand he offered.  Her stomach did a back flip when she touched him.  Somehow, some way this decision was going to change her life. 

     She hoped to goodness this wouldn’t be a huge mistake.

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