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details.
    “ Julie, please sit down,”
Sandra said, in a smooth, southern voice.
    I moved around the chair and sat
down.
    “ You’ve been doing a great
job the last couple weeks with the scheduling of the stylists and
dealing with the product placements.”
    “ Thank you.” I actually
enjoyed it. It meant a little bit longer hours, but that extra pay
was nice and I took pride in the displays around here. I think the
way I had it set up actually increased sales. The scheduling was a
bit tricky because a few of the stylists thought they could take
advantage of me by requesting certain days and shifts, but I
quickly let them know it wasn’t going to happen. I planned to treat
everyone fairly around here.
    “ I was wondering if you
would be willing to take on the inventory.”
    “ Inventory?”
    Sandra nodded. “Yes, since you’re
handling product placement, I figured giving you access to the
suppliers and catalogues would be a good idea. You are welcome to
bring in any new lines you think would sell well. Just keep in mind
I only want to carry three or four lines at a time. Anything beyond
that—”
    “ Will just look cluttered
and inconsistent.” I finished.
    She looked impressed.
    “ I agree. Keeping the lines
to a minimum will give the impression that we only carry the best
and pay attention to what the clients need.”
    “ Yes. Exactly. But we will
always carry Paul Mitchell. You can change the others, just not
that one. Paul is a friend of mine.”
    She was friends with Paul Mitchell ? He was like
the hair care king.
    I agreed and she continued on. “You
will need to set aside a block of time every week to take stock and
keep track of what’s selling and what we need more of. Since you’re
handling the products, I’d like you to go ahead and handle the
color as well.”
    I nodded, thinking of the cabinets full
of hair coloring products in the back.
    “ Those will need reordered
more than the products out front.”
    “ Okay.”
    “ I will show you how to
handle the stock and then you can take over next week.”
    I followed her back into the little
kitchen where the staff kept their lunch and salon supplies. She
quickly but thoroughly went through the way to keep track, told me
what usually got used up the fastest (the blond colors), and then
handed me a notebook and a binder with all the supplier
information.
    My eyes kept straying to a door that
led off the kitchen, a door I’d never gone behind.
    “ Sandra?” I asked. “What’s
in there?”
    “ Oh, that’s just a closet.
The water heater and the electrical box.”
    Boring.
    We finished up the meeting and then I
gathered up my stuff and hurried to my car. I had a date
tonight!
    Before climbing into my Hyundai, I sent
off a quick text to Dee.
    Have a Date. Meet me at my
place. Wardrobe 9-1-1.
    I didn’t wait for a reply. I just
shoved my phone in my bag and headed for my townhouse just a few
miles away.
    I lived off of Gumbranch Road in a
little development of townhouses that were only several years old.
They were in rows. Each of them looked the same with light-colored
vinyl siding, dark shutters, and concrete steps leading off the
sidewalk and up to the front door.
    I parked in my spot in front of my
house and walked past the pots of colorful fall mums lining my
steps and let myself inside.
    The quiet of the home wrapped around me
and I sighed. The scent of vanilla cinnamon wafted through the air
from the wax melter that I always had on, and I dumped my bag and
keys on the little glass-topped table by the door.
    I kicked off my shoes and walked
through the cozy living room and into the kitchen, which was in the
back of the house. The slate tiles were cool against my bare feet,
and I went straight toward the dark wood cabinet and pulled down my
favorite mug and filled it with water. Once it was heating in the
microwave, I rummaged around for a teabag and then leaned against
the counter (it wasn’t granite, but it was made to look like it)
and