Chapter 5: The Price of Kindness
George Alden sat very still in Chair One and looked at himself the way a man looks at a road he once knew well.
"Well," he said at last. "There he is."
Tessa set her shears down and stepped back. "You like it?"
"I had forgotten what my own ears looked like," he said. "Evelyn always said a man carries his years in the sides, just here." He touched the clean line above his ear. "You took ten of them off and left the dignity on. That is a rare trade, Miss Boyd."
"It is Tessa," she said. "And honestly, you did half of it. You sat still. You would be amazed how many people cannot sit still."
"I cut hair a lifetime ago," he said. "Sitting still is respect for the hands." His gray eyes met hers in the mirror, clear and amused. "You have good hands. Careful ones. Your mother taught you, you said?"
"At our kitchen table in Cleveland," Tessa said. "She would say, anybody can cut hair. Not everybody can make a person feel looked after."
"She would have charged you more than a dollar and a quarter," Tessa said, and he laughed.
Then Regina's heels struck the marble, sharp as a gavel. "Touching," she said. "The whole floor has enjoyed the performance." She stopped beside Chair One and studied George's reflection without once looking at the man himself. "The chair is needed, Tessa. Some of us have paying clients."
"He is a paying client," Tessa said. "He is preparing for an interview. Chair One is his by the covenant, Regina. I read it myself."
"You read an old handbook," Regina said. "I run a salon." "Sir, we do hope you will think of Velour for your future needs. Our full menu is at the desk."
George rose and reached for his coat on the hook. The heavy thing in the inside pocket swung once against the leather chair as Tessa lifted it for him, and she held her face still and said nothing about it.
"Thank you for the chair," George said. "And for the kindness. Kindness is dearer than money in most houses. In this one, apparently, it has a price list."
"Tessa." Regina's voice dropped. "My office corner. Now."
George buttoned his coat. "Miss Boyd," he said, "if the afternoon goes my way, I will be across the street tonight, sweeping steps and carrying bags like a man half my age. Wish me luck."
"You do not need it," Tessa said. "You walk in there looking like that, Mr. Alden, they would be fools to send you anywhere else."
"Then I will borrow your confidence," he said. "Mine is a little worn at the cuffs." He nodded to Rosa, nodded to the room, and went out into the October light with his head held high.
Regina waited until the door closed behind him. "Let us discuss the price of your little rebellion," she said. "Your commission on last week's party? Gone. Docked against today's lost chair time."
"You cannot dock commission I already earned," Tessa said.
"I can recommend it to payroll, and payroll listens to me," Regina said. "Shall we call them together, or shall we discuss your new duties?"
"What new duties?"
"Towels," Regina said, counting on her acrylic nails. "Laundry room, full rotation, tonight. The product shelves, dusted and faced. The break room, which Chase and Blair have left in a condition I will not describe before lunch. And you will close. Alone. After you finish, you may reflect on the difference between charity and employment."
"Rosa usually does towels with me," Tessa said. "That is a two person job before close."
"Rosa has been reassigned to shampoo, where paying heads are waiting," Regina said. "You wanted to serve the public, Tessa. Serve."
Blair drifted past with a comb behind her ear. "Careful with the shelves," she said sweetly. "The serums cost more than your car."
"Everything here costs more than my car," Tessa said. "That is not the insult you think it is."
Chase laughed from his station. Regina silenced him with one look, then returned it to Tessa. "One more thing. Tomorrow morning we have a VIP, an early booking, the kind of client who keeps this roof over us. Hair perfect, station perfect, attitude perfect. If she sees one towel out of place, I will know whose hands to blame. Am I clear?"
"Crystal," Tessa said.
"Good. Then stop staring out the window and start on the laundry."
But Tessa did stare, one moment longer. Across Newbury Street, George Alden crossed between the cars with his coat buttoned and his fresh haircut bright in the sun, and he climbed the steps of the Beacon Grand Hotel like a man going to claim something that had always been his.