Free Style Me Sexy (novella) by Tara Chevrestt

Chapter 1
    Bridget sauntered into Mane Modifying on Main Street, her regular salon, with a confident spring in her step. Her life suddenly had purpose and meaning. She, the workaholic, the old maid, the crazy cat lady, had a date that night. It was a blind date, and she hadn’t laid eyes on the guy yet, but from their computer conversations and instant messages over the last month, she felt she could honestly say, ‘He’s the one. ’
    As the glass door swung shut behind her, she searched for her usual stylist, Deborah. The short, blonde, perky hairdresser was nowhere to be seen. Am I early? Bridget glanced at the gold watch on her slender wrist. Right on time, as usual. She felt a twinge of impatience—after all, she looked like crap and needed to look her absolute best (not that that was much better than the way she looked now) for the upcoming night. Where in the world is she?
    Usually Deborah was awaiting her arrival, eager to escort her to the designated chair. Bridget glanced at the front desk. That hot guy is manning the desk today. Damn. She’d seen him every time she came for her monthly appointment, but had never spoken to him. Gorgeous men, especially men with light brown skin, dark chocolate eyes, wavy black hair stopping at broad shoulders, and slender waists above tight buttocks, intimidated the hell out of her. She could handle men in the boardroom when money was involved—the business men she dealt with didn’t look particularly good anyway—and she did so on a daily basis, but in her personal life…no. Especially not men that looked even better than Richard. Don’t go there, not now…
    He’s probably gay. Men that look that good and style hair for a living are definitely gay. The thought gave her new confidence, and she approached the desk.
    ‘I’m here for my appointment with Deborah.’
    The man turned his smouldering eyes up from the appointment book he had been perusing. His straight, white teeth showed as he smiled, and a dimple appeared in the corner of his cheek. Bridget felt her breath catch. Gay, gay, gay. Then he spoke.
    ‘Miss Langston, Deborah had a family emergency and just called forty-five minutes ago. We tried to reach you to let you know of the appointment change, but you didn’t answer your phone.’ His voice was deep and low. A shiver went up Bridget’s spine. She attempted to ignore it and gulped around the knot forming in her throat.
    ‘Oops,’ she said, hoping her voice sounded breezy and unconcerned. ‘I had my phone off during a meeting, and I must have forgotten to turn it back on.’ She felt a measure of panic as the implications of the situation dawned on her. ‘Oh—oh.’ My date.
    ‘You can reschedule, or you can see another stylist right now, today, with a discount as our apology for the inconvenience.’ His mellifluous voice interrupted her worried thoughts. Yes, there was still hope.
    ‘I’ll use someone else today,’ she spoke quickly, not wanting to let this opportunity pass by. ‘I—I need to look good.’ Her hand went to her lanky hair. How hard could it be to shampoo, trim, blow-dry, and fluff? A new stylist wouldn’t kill her. She’d been planning on getting highlights that day, a new thing for her, but she could just get the usual. Highlights weren’t going to make her a supermodel. Who was she kidding?
    The man stood. His chair made a rolling sound on the tiled floor. The scent of a manly cologne drifted up, enticing her nostrils. She wanted to breathe deep, and hold that smell in for as long as she could. It made her think of hot kisses searing across her flesh, of hands holding her own above her head… What in the world?
    ‘You already look good, miss, but a cut and some highlights, yes? That will make you look sexy. Sexy is better than good.’ The man smiled and arched a dark brow at her, gesturing for her to follow him to the stylist chairs.
    Bridget knew she was blushing. Her face felt as though it was on fire. That was nice of