Sandman Read Online Free PDF

the room, “You’re late, Red!”
    “I know, sorry.” She walked into the reception area and called her first client.
    It was a mystery to her, but none of her clients seemed annoyed at waiting for Meagan. They forever complimented her on her talent and many appreciated her humor. Above her station hung a sign that read: For your own safety, please remain seated at all times. She got it from a friend who used to work at Disneyland.
    After she put her first client under the dryer, she went up to the front of the salon to say hello to her friend Lilah, the receptionist.
    Lilah was a college student putting herself through school. She stood five feet, five inches, wore her blonde hair in a chin-length bob, had blue eyes, and looked like a model of innocence. The only thing keeping this angel from getting her wings was the nose ring.
    “Jerome’s been chomping at the bit,” Lilah said as Meagen slid beside her. “I swear he watches the clock and the minute you’re late, he comes to me and starts bitching about it.”
    “I’m so sorry, I’ll try to do better in the future.” Meagan flipped through the scheduling book’s pages as she checked out her appointments for the week.
    “I don’t know what his problem is with you, but he doesn’t have me call any of the other stylists when they’re late.”
    ***
    Meagan started back to work five years before after going through a bitter divorce. Her ex-husband made her quit her job. He was a bit old-fashioned that way, and she was too young and too in love to know any better. Now she did.
    After a few short years in the business, her creativity was stifled by that fateful trip to the altar. So when she started at this salon, she had to build her clientele from scratch. She advertised like hell, practically giving her services away, and before long was able to support herself. Not a good way to win friends and influence people in her highly competitive field.
    However, that wasn’t Jerome’s problem. It just made him one more person to jump on the I Hate Meagan bandwagon. No, Jerome’s problem with her was personal, and for Lilah’s sake, Meagan had decided to keep it that way. It was better not to put her in the middle. She was a faithful friend, and Meagan didn’t want to be the cause of any problems for her at the salon. She needed this job just as much as Meagan did.
    ***
    The problem with Jerome started back when Meagan was new to the salon. Sandy, the owner, had asked her to work one evening at her other salon on the lake in Mission Viejo. They had three girls out sick and only one hairdresser trying to cope with a scheduling nightmare. Meagan was more than happy to oblige, so she packed up her tools and made the thirty-minute drive.
    The minute she entered the salon, she observed the waiting area and it was not pretty. Lots of angry faces. The receptionist looked like she was ready to quit. Her stress was almost palpable. The phone rang incessantly. She juggled answering it, with calling clients to tell them not to come in and rescheduling them.
    Meagan listened as she patiently waited to get the girl’s attention. Finally she disconnected the phone and Meagan jumped in to introduce herself. The girl was noticeably relieved. She pointed out the station Meagan was to use.
    She was bent over trying to feel underneath the counter to plug in her blow dryer when she carelessly looked up into the mirror and stopped. Three chairs down stood the ebony version of Adonis, with chiseled features and a bald pate. Meagan held her breath, eyes riveted. He was well over six feet, more like six-two.
    He definitely lifted weights. The bulk of his chest strained against the buttons of his white dress shirt. He wore a paisley print brown tie, pleated brown slacks and expensive-looking alligator shoes with a belt to match. He could have been a lawyer in that getup. He looked ridiculously out of place in a hair salon.
    Meagan watched as he shamelessly flirted with the elderly woman