Snipping Up Love (Insta Love Shy Girl Romance 5)

CHAPTER ONE

* Katy *

When I finally found an almost affordable apartment in downtown Toronto, I thought that my job would provide me with an easy source of friends. I’d only been a hairstylist for about a year, and everyone who had worked at the shop in my hometown was incredibly friendly.

But apparently, things were different in the big city. Every stylist seemed intent on building their own clientele, and was less concerned about helping the shop, and helping everyone else out.

I found myself gravitating more to the barbershop side of the space whenever I wasn’t busy. At least the men were chatty, and the customers seemed to like having a young lady around to compliment their new cuts. Having very few people to really talk to was beginning to wear me down.

My boss Tasha told me to go home for the day since it was incredibly slow, and I had no appointments booked. Since I had no clientele of my own yet, I usually took care of the walk-ins. But I was so bored and lonely that instead, I went over to sit near Max’s station. His favorite client, little old Mr. Heffernan, came in every four weeks for a trim, and the two of them were always a riot together.

I listened intently to all of their superstitious beliefs about why it would be three more years before our hockey team took the cup. I didn’t follow sports, but it was fascinating how excited and hilarious they became, egging each other on.

They grew quieter when a large man in a crisp white shirt and black pants came in and sat in the waiting area. He was perhaps in his early forties, and carried himself with an almost regal attitude.

“Hello, Mr. Whittaker,” Max said rather formally. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“No worries, take your time,” the big man said, looking around the room. His eyes met mine, and suddenly I felt strangely unnerved. It was as if he were sizing me up, analyzing every part of me.

I suddenly wished that I had worn a nicer dress. I had to buy cheap but trendy clothes for work because they always got destroyed from a splash of hair dye or a fallen straightening iron. Since jangling bracelets seemed rude next to my client’s ears, I wore slim leather cuffs, so at least I had some jewelry. I didn’t like to wear rings while working with people’s hair. Now I found myself analyzing every choice I had made while putting myself together this morning.

“New girl, come here,” the man said, standing up.

I looked to Max in surprise, but he nodded urgently. I found myself standing in front of this stranger without even knowing how I got there.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Katy.” Realizing he likely didn’t hear my whisper, I cleared my throat. “Katy Michaud.” I didn’t understand why he made me feel so small and nervous. I was fairly short, but my overall size didn’t normally seem petite. He was just so huge.

“I’m Dan,” he said, shaking my hand gently. “Do you work here?”

“Yes.” Why did my voice sound so small? “I’m a new stylist on the women’s side.”

“But you can cut men’s hair too?” It sounded like more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, of course.”

He took my hand and led me to the empty station beside Max. It was so strange that he just took my hand as if he were used to controlling people. Yet it was also rather nice, somehow. “I have an important event tonight, and I can’t look like I just got a new haircut. But it’s a tiny bit too long at the top.”

I stood behind him, and instantly began running my fingers through his thick, dark hair. Picking up a pair of Max’s scissors, I used them to point precisely. “So you only want an eighth of an inch off?” I indicated.

“Exactly.”

“And I’ll just shave up the back to tidy everything?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t say please. His commanding tone was strange. It wasn’t exactly arrogant, it was just that he seemed to expect me to obey him.

“Would you like a shampoo first?” I asked.

His eyes met mine in the mirror, then he smiled. He had been handsome before, but as those deep blue-black eyes lit up with a tiny twinkle, I felt a shiver run through me. He was gorgeous.

I saw his eyes flick to my chest for a split second. “Katy, I wish I had the time to have you bent over me, scrubbing my hair. But I’m in a hurry today.”

It was obvious that some men loved having their hair washed by a female stylist since it basically put our breasts in their face. And since I was pretty curvy, that was certainly the situation. It was strange that I was disappointed that he didn’t have the time. It was also odd that he’d point it out like that.

“Max, is it okay if I just use your kit?”

“Of course,” he said. He was looking at me very strangely, almost as if he were nervous around Dan.

He was finished with Mr. Heffernan, so they moved over to the bench at the back to continue their rambling about sports.

“Tell me about yourself, Katy,” Dan said briskly as I begin to comb and trim his hair.

“It’s a short story,” I said. “I grew up outside of Peterborough, and just moved to Toronto a month and a half ago.”

“Why did you move to the city?”

“I needed a change. And I wanted to be closer to the big museums and the art galleries. I really enjoy people watching,” I confessed, unsure why I was s

haring this with him. “I could spend hours at a café on Queen Street just staring at people walking by, and wondering why they chose that haircut, that jacket, why they put themselves together that way.”

He looked at me with the strangest expression. “Did you move to Toronto with family?” Then his jaw grew tight before he said, “Or a boyfriend?”

I shook my head with a shy smile. “Nope. Just me.” My fingers worked through his thick hair quickly, blending the sides up carefully.

“How old are you? You live alone? All by yourself?”

“I’m twenty-two,” I said. “Yes, I’m alone. And I was really lucky to find a tiny basement apartment.”

He actually shuddered. “You don’t belong in a basement, beautiful. You should be at the top of a tower.”

I laughed lightly, but he didn’t seem to be joking. “Well, Dan, a girl just has to get by in the world any way she can.”

He began to shake his head, then realized I had razor-sharp scissors near his temple. “Sorry,” he muttered. His eyes darted around the salon. “Do you do men’s cuts very often?”

“Not really. Just one guy so far. He had very long hair, a musician I think, and he’d only let someone with long hair touch his.” I grinned at him in the mirror. “I think he was paranoid that anyone who didn’t understand would cut too much off.”

Dan’s tight crooked smile was confusing. “Would you date him?” he asked suddenly. “A musician?”

I shrugged. “Sure. I mean, not that guy in particular I don’t think, but I’d go out with anyone that I clicked with if they seemed nice.”

One of Dan’s eyebrows raised. “Was he a rich or poor musician type?”

I laughed. “Definitely poor. He was very apologetic that he could only tip me five dollars.” I still couldn’t read Dan’s expression. “But I’ve never gone out with a rich guy. To be honest, I’d probably date a poor man before a rich man.” Walking around his chair to double-check everything, I didn’t know why Max shot me a sharp glance.