Oh, No! It's Jim (ONC 2024)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The scent of rose shampoo wafted pleasantly up my nose as I sat on the plush salon chair with hair dryers humming and scissors snipping at the Hair Fairy Salon.

I admired my reflection in the mirror, running my fingers through my freshly styled and sleek hair. Only Kiesha can tame my wild curls into submission, whipping my locks into its silky-smooth texture. All thanks to my mother's Spanish side. "Embrace your exotic curls, pollita. There're beautiful." My mother would say affectionately. Out of all the nicknames I endured in Westwood High, being called 'little chickie' by my mother in Spanish wasn't so bad.

My mind drifted to Jim again. He was being cordial. Weird. Friendly. Maybe even nice. He wasn't himself. My skeptical mind still decoding the man.

"Gosh, you're a miracle worker, Kiesha." I said. I don't know how she did it. After years of trying to straighten my curls myself, I simply couldn't do it properly. "You're a lifesaver."

"You know, I could style your hair with your natural curls, too? I've got a great conditioner I'm concocting at home." She said as she unbuttoned the salon cape from my neck. "It'll make your curls soft, and the smell is to die for. Vanilla with a hint of honey."

I shrugged. My curls would bring back my insecurities. "Maybe some other time. Right now, I prefer the sleek look." I stood up from the seat. "Next week, same time?"

"Yeah, of course." Kiesha smiled.

After paying at the counter, I left the Hair Fairy salon feeling confident and rejuvenated. I looked damn good this morning.

And that's how I felt twenty minutes later, as I stepped onto the office floor in a rush to make it on time. I checked my watch. I made it with five minutes to spare. Moving into the kitchen, I grabbed my special mug and waited for the coffee machine to refill.

I stood at the door frame. Black Print was abuzz with morning activity as I watched the employees. Phones rang, keyboards clacked, and papers shuffled as they navigated their tasks. Among them was Jim, and my breath caught in my throat. The charismatic and well-liked marketing director was starting to be known for his friendly demeanor.

The filter coffee was ready, but my heels were frozen in place — watching 'Jim the bully'. He strolled through the office, greeting each employee with a compliment or a kind word. He buttered up Stacey on her presentation skills, praised Emma for her attention to detail, and even commended Mr. Reynolds for his problem-solving abilities, brightening his day.

"Mrs. Callum, I just wanted to say your presentation yesterday was excellent. You really nailed it." Jim smiled, that buckled every woman's knees here at Black Print.

Mrs. Callum looked up with her eyes lit. "Thanks, Mr. Locke." She replied shyly.

I pursed my lips but couldn't help but watch on. He had to slip up somewhere, dammit!

Suddenly, Jim stopped at Doris's desk, who was struggling with a jammed printer. She was the oldest employee at Black Print and got sometimes confused with anything technical. Instead of walking past her like the three co-workers before him, he put down his file and helped her clear the jam. I could see Doris's relief as the printer started working again.

I frowned. "What the hell?" I whispered. "He's helpful?"

That's it! Pigs can fly in the middle of fucking July.

Next, he approached another co-worker, who was looking stressed and overwhelmed with his workload. Jim offered words of encouragement and support, even going as far as suggesting ways to prioritize tasks to make things more manageable for him.