I Unintentionally Became Her Kitten

Chapter 76: Hair

Our facials were nice. The masseuse gave us a strange look when we asked to not be separated, but with both of our consents, it was fine.

I watched over Alisha as the masseuse did her work, and Alisha watched over me when it was my turn. It did feel nice, there was warm steam, and nice scents and the masseuse did know how to work her fingers into my skin in such a way that my face muscles were relaxed after. My skin also felt incredibly soft and smooth when she was finished.

I hadn’t had much in way of acne or blemishes for a while. Only a little something here and there. Simply being able to keep my skin clean did a lot. When we departed the spa, Alisha was only a little more relaxed than before. It seemed like a waste, but she maybe didn’t realize how difficult relaxing would be. It wasn’t like she spent much time without security in public and while I was here for her, in part so I could be her security, it wasn’t going to be the same. On top of that, we now knew Nico was stirring. She had been pretty quiet since that phone call. Even now we were just walking in a random direction as she thought.

I took her hand at least, so she wouldn’t accidentally wander into traffic. She was moving with the flow and the pedestrians here weren’t necessarily the most non-jay-walking type.

The streets were busy with people, and the stink of a dense population was prevalent as we wandered.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

She had her gaze downcast as she walked. “Nico,” she said simply.

“Yes but…” what about him? Was she concocting plans? Or was she simmering in distaste?

“I think we’ll be crashing quite a fancy party of his,” she said. “So we need some proper clothes for the occasion.”

I nodded. “Do you want to do more clothes shopping?” I asked.

“Well that’s the thing. I don’t know where to go shopping for that kind of thing here.”

“Isn’t there a fashion district?” I asked. I gave her a gentle pull to get her to stop. She obeyed and we moved to the side of the walking path so we were out of people's way.

“I need to make my hair appointment though,” Alisha stated.

“Yes, I know.” She had been messing with her hair more today. “So we'll head over there, but you're wandering.”

She blinked and then looked around. “Oh,” she said. “I guess I've been lost in thought.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “And you’re supposed to be relaxing. I know you’re anxious but there isn’t much we can do right now. So you should take your time to get your hair done and we can go clothes shopping but we don’t need to rush off to do it, okay?”

She nodded. “I suppose…”

“How long before a banquet can get put together?” I asked.

“Typically a few days.”

“Then we have at least today to do what we want,” I told her. “So let’s enjoy it. Let's get your hair taken care of and then we can just go shopping. For anything.”

She nodded, but there was still uncertainty in her face. “Where is your hair appointment?” I asked and she gave me the name and closest intersection. “Let's head over there and just chill if we're early. You can take the time to think of what you want to do, okay?”

There was another nod and we started back in that direction, falling in the slow stream of the people. This neighborhood was busy. There never stopped being people but this time of day they were everywhere in thick flocks. A lot of tourists and locals alike. I didn't think I'd be able to stand living in a place like this. The people were so numerous they kind of just turned into background noise. 

It didn't take long to reach the salon. There was the ever present hair salon smell that seemed pretty unanimous between all hair salons, both the fancy and the basic.

When we walked in, a lady at the front computer looked up and at first went to smile and give us the, “I'll be right with you,” spiel, but she instead did a double take upon seeing Alisha’s hair.

“Are you my two o’clock?” she asked.

“I have an appointment at two o’clock,” Alisha informed her.

The hairdresser seemed a bit skeptical but she waved Alisha right back. “And your friend can come too,” she offered.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only one-thirty. Alisha was getting accepted early.

I saw the other hairdresser, who currently had a complicated mess of foil sheets going in her clients hair, stop to stare at Alisha a little.

Alisha was sat down in a chair and I was offered the seat right next to it.

“This is your real hair?” the woman asked and picked up some of Alisha's length to run across her fingers.

“Yes,” Alisha answered.

“And these are your natural roots?” she asked.

“...yes?” was Alisha's cautious answer.

The hair lady was examining it for a long moment before turning her head.

“Liz, when you have a sec,” she called over to the other hairdresser.

Alisha tensed a bit as the other woman put her things down and hurried over.

“What's up?” she asked.

Alisha's hair lady held out a strand of hair for her to feel.

“Oh my God,” the second lady said in shock, letting the hair slide through her fingers.

“I know, right?” the first agreed. “You have to tell us who does your hair,” she told Alisha.

Alisha frowned and I shifted a little anxiously, wondering if I should intervene. I knew Alisha’s hair was a lot of work but it didn't feel like it warranted two hairdressers fawning over it like this. 

“My hairdresser doesn't wish to take new clients.” Alisha told them calmly. There was that warning tone in her voice that they shouldn't press for answers, but the women didn't understand the significance.

“Do you understand your stylist brought your hair from practically black to this–” and she pulled her hand out again so a few hairs caught the light. It was practically invisible. The whiteness was almost transparent. “It's literally going from like a one or two to a twelve or so.”

I narrowed my eyes, not understanding this.

“Which means someone put a lot of effort and care into it, and I'm sure it wasn't cheap,” the hairdresser pressed.

Alisha held very still. “Is it too much risk for you to style it?” she asked.

The second hairdresser retreated back to her own client and continued whatever strange foiling process was going on over there.

“It's not,” her hairdresser reassured. “But I'll be taking my time. Do you know when your last Plex treatment was?”

“Six days ago,” Alisha informed after some thought. “And then my last keratin treatment was about a month ago.”

The hairdresser nodded. “I see. You get it very well taken care of then?”

“Yes I also use Plex 3 and 8 between appointments.”

“Okay. I'm going to use some heat but I'll be very slow and gentle with it to avoid any damage.”

Alisha agreed to this and waited patiently as the hairdresser dampened her hair and gently brushed it out, treating it with far more gentleness than I'd ever seen a hairdresser use.

She also put a generous amount of product in before blow-drying the full length while gently pulling it taught. The hair happily fell back into its usual pin straight nature, another unnatural feature of it. The hairdresser was relieved by this as well, probably aware of how much money Alisha must spend on her hair and how protective she should be of it. But then again Alisha didn't tend to care much about money, ironically.

“I'll put some leave-in conditioner in as well,” the hairdresser told her, “to help keep it soft and silky.”

“Thank you,” Alisha told her.

“Is there anything else you wanted me to do?” she asked.

“No, I just needed it to be properly styled,” Alisha informed her.

“Alright, well you're always welcome back, though I don't think I could replace your current stylist,” the hairdresser informed her.

“If I end up staying in the city for a while I may be back,” Alisha informed.

The hairdresser blinked. “Oh. Where are you from?”

Alisha went quiet again. “Not here,” she finally decided and the hairdresser got the hint. Alisha then picked her purse up and rummaged through to pull out a fifty dollar bill. “Your tip,” she explained as she handed it over. And then she stood, briefly running fingers through her hair to make sure it was satisfactorily styled and then went to the register at the front to pay for the appointment.

I zoned out a bit as she did so. The hairdresser stopped trying to strike up conversation with her and they did their business transaction.

We left the shop, the hairdresser gazing wonderingly after us as we did so. I waited until we were a block away to bring it up, in case there was any risk of being eavesdropped on.

“I didn’t realize Stella was so skilled,” I commented.

“Mm,” Alisha agreed. “She used to do very high end hair appointments but there was an incident and she wanted to retire fully. I offered her a private job though, and I am her only client. Which works out because I can give her enough business that she doesn’t have to rely on her retirement fund yet.”

My brain took a long second to process this. “How much… do you spend on just your hair?” I asked. 

“About five to six hundred a week just for some maintenance treatments. When the roots need to be filled in and the toner reapplied, it's about twelve-hundred.”

“I see,” I followed.

“I was fortunate to know of her when things went down.”

I nodded. “Does she know what you do for a living?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not explicitly but she knows better than to ask so she has some sense it’s not entirely legal; just probably doesn’t know how far down the rabbit hole it goes.”

“I’m glad you have someone you can trust to do your hair.”

“I am too.” She reached over to take my hand. “So, fashion district?”

I gave her hand a squeeze. “Yes,” I agreed. “Let’s go find some overly dramatic outfits. The more overdramatic the better~”

She snickered. “I’ll help you find something appropriate to ruin someone's day in,” she reassured and pulled my hand so I bumped against her hip, then she wrapped an arm around my shoulders and held me there, nice and close. “And maybe something to make someone have quite a nice night too,” she said softly.

I flushed again. She really could tease me quite easily.