Pretty Hurts (Left 1.50)

“It is, but there are all kind of different types. She has Alopecia Aereata which means her hair falls out in patches.”

“Damn, that must be mighty hard on a woman.”

“Yes, exactly why he asked me to open up the shop early and have her come in for a one-on-one. I was still picturing a thin, pale, sickly looking woman, because of the initial cancer assumption. Then she walks in and blows all my misconceptions up in my face. That’s what I get for assuming.” I recall the first time I saw her stride up to the door with impossibly long legs, and hips that filled out her jeans in the best possible way. Her clothes fit like they were tailor made for her lush body.

“That good, huh?” Addler asks bringing back to the present.

“Dude. She’s a brown-skinned goddess with these amazing eyes, full lips, and a chill vibe …” I trail off, unable to fully enunciate all the things that make Efia incredible.

“You sound freaking smitten, dude. Are you going to write her a note, ask her if she likes you, and leave two boxes with instructions to check one for yes and for no?”

“Jackass.”

“Seriously. She sounds awesome. I’m not seeing what the problem is. I mean, yes, you don’t want to date clients, but it’s not like you make a habit of it. Rules are destined to be bent and broken occasionally.”

“Well for one, she’s got a lot on her plate dealing with Alopecia.”

“Does it bother you?”

“What?” I snap, disgusted that he’d think so little of me. I’ve never been a shallow man.

“Her not having hair.”

I scowl. “Of course it doesn’t.”

“Okay, that reason is debunked.”

I sigh. “I wish it was that simple. It still bothers her. She’s still adjusting and unsure of herself. I’m telling you, she’s gorgeous, hair or no hair.”

“Maybe you should tell her that.”

I grip the steering wheel a little harder. “No, what she needs right now is a friend. I can be that. I … ugh! I asked her to the horror movie thing at Alamo. Just as friends.”

“You’re really interested in her, aren’t you?” he inquires, growing serious.

“I kind of am. I mean, we’ve only known each other a few weeks, and this will be or first time together out of the shop, but I have a feeling about her.”

I sneak a glance at him. He has a thoughtful expression on his face. “This is the first I’ve heard you mention a girl since you broke things off with Marilyn. That alone tells me you shouldn’t ignore it. I get that the timing might be off now, but it won’t always be. Be friends, get to know her, and let things develop naturally.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“What’s the mystery woman’s name?”

“Efia.” I can’t keep the smile from my lips. Maybe I had my mind made up in the first place.

***

Who knew a neck could be a work of art? Efia is all shapely shoulders, with a graceful swan neck, and delicate clavicle I want to lick in an off the shoulder Bride of Frankenstein T-shirt. Her legs are bare in a pair of black cut-off shorts that show off her legs. I clear my throat and push away from the wall.

“Hey,” she murmurs, giving me a small wave.

?

?Nice shirt.”

She laughs. “I thought it was fitting.”

I glance down at my own homage to the horror movie. “I share your enthusiasm.”