Goddess

Huxley

I’m in the kitchen with Mother, helping prep for the lunch crowd when Goddess appears. The ratty white Stanford shirt she’s wearing is worn just enough for me to see the shape of her perfect tits. Fuck me, she’s braless again. I swallow the lump in my throat, willing my cock to behave. I’m standing next to my mother, for fuck’s sake. I’m speechless, but my mother doesn’t miss a beat. She sees the disaster this has written all over it. Her new server would be the talk of the town—distraction is an understatement.

“Morning, dear. Huxley and I were just talking about you.”

“You were?” She steals the words right out of my mouth. I’m curious too.

“Why, yes. I was telling him that before you start, you should have a day to get yourself settled. Sorry I didn’t think about this before. You just got into town last night, so I’m sure you need to pick up a few essentials. Huxley has volunteered to take you. While you’re out, stop by and see Lizzy over at Glam’s for a little pampering. Her mother, Isabella, is a good friend of mine. She works wonders with hair. Tell her I sent you.”

I don’t think my mother was as smooth as she’d hoped. She was pretty transparent actually. Goddess runs a hand along her two messy pigtail braids. She looks down at the floor before speaking; the shade of red that now covers her face is a telltale sign of her embarrassment.

“Sorry, I don’t have much, Rosalita. I left it all behind. Material things couldn’t be a part of my new life. I never wanted …” She trails off, realizing she has already said too much.

My mother glances over at me, and I can see the weariness in her eyes. I know her intent wasn’t to offend. She goes over to Goddess and lifts her chin until she looks her in the eyes. “I don’t know your story, Goddess, and as I’ve said before, I won’t pry. You don’t have anything to apologize for— to anyone. I may have gone about it the wrong way through vague suggestions, but I just want you to have what you need before starting work. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because people are distracted by your bosoms.” Goddess crosses her arms over her chest to hide her breasts, but you can’t hide those things. “Take a day to pamper yourself and get what you need. I’ll give you an advance on your paycheck.”

“No. No,” Goddess says suddenly. “You’ve been generous enough. I will feel bad. Please. I have some money.”

“I won’t take no for an answer, dear. Don’t think of it as generosity. This is your money before you earn it, but you’ll still have to work for it. Besides, it’s a small guarantee that you’ll have to stick around until your first check.” My mother nudges her. That earns her a smile. “Go on, Huxley, before she changes her mind. Use the company card.”

There is no company card. She just said that to make it sound official to Goddess. The truth is, I will use my credit card, and my mother will try to settle up later. Only she doesn’t know that this one is on me. Goddess runs upstairs to get her wallet while I head to the truck. I just need to keep my focus off how much I want to fuck her. So much for spending the day finding a conquest for my bed tonight.

“So where to first?” Goddess asks, interrupting my thoughts. She gets in and slams the door.

“Glam’s. I’m taking you to the hair salon to see Lizzy.” Elizabeth Shaw is Austin’s daughter. I used to have a small crush on her, but I never pursued her. The mere size of her dad alone was enough to give any guy pause. I was never in town long anyway, so it suited her better to end up with a guy name Cohen.

We pull up to the salon, and I’m out first to open the door for her. I watch as she tries to make sense of the gold glitter along the sidewalk and leading up to the door. She looks back at me, unsure. I’m prepared to assure her she’ll be in great hands when the entrance to the salon swings open.

“Well, who do we have here, looking like a scared kitten?” A short Black guy with long blond hair and four-inch heels greets us. It’s Glam himself.

“I’m Goddess,” the scared kitten in question speaks up. “Um, Rosalita sent me.”

“Oh, I’m just pulling your leg, sugar. We’ve been expecting you.” He runs his hands through her long tresses, assessing the work needed. “I’m William Beaumont, but all the cool people call me Glam. I’m the owner of this fine establishment,” he says as he continues to study her.

“Nice to meet you …” She’s unsure if she is one of the cool people he’s referring to.

“Glam, sugar. You can call me Glam. You have fabulous hair to work with, but girl, you’ve come to the right place to transform that hair into something extraordinary. Lizzy girl is back there waiting to get her hands on you.” He looks over at me as if he’s just realized I was standing there. “It’s going to be a while, handsome. Come back in a few hours, and Glam will have her ready for you.”

I guess that’s my dismissal. Glam swings his long blond hair and ushers Goddess inside. She gives me one last look over her shoulder before disappearing. Glad I was let off the hook. The last thing I wanted to do with my afternoon was sit around a hair salon with women I didn’t plan to fuck. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off, and I get a grand idea. One I hope Goddess will like.

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