Chapter 12
Susanne offered one protest. "It wasn't just Henri but some of the older people present-"
"Naturally," agreed Bert. "They are remembering back to the day the first 'bob' was introduced by Irene Castle, then made popular. But at that time only men and a very few women barbers knew the first thing about cutting hair. The moment the business realized short hair had come in to stay, more or less, beauty colleges placed that art on their agenda, and in no time every beautician had at least the rudiments. Don't all of your operators cut, trim or what have you?"
"They may trim, but Henri and Jacques do the styling. I suppose they could, yet with such an extreme change-"
"Then they'll take a refresher course. Believe me, they'll be made available. Now what do you imagine the small shops will do, the ones with only one or two women and no men: go out of business or adapt?"
"Of course," she agreed, then frowned. "But I don't understand why everyone groaned and predicted financial disaster."
"We're a nation of groaners. We groan at change, predict catastrophe. Then we heave to and avert catastrophe by working out something better than that which had caused our groans."
"In a beauty salon, what?"
"How about the counseling bit?"
Well, more women and girls were dropping in for "a little chat." It was not anything she deemed of great value. She found she was suggesting books for them to read, letting them talk their troubles out, but only occasionally offering any actual therapy.
"Which is exactly what your aunt did."
And meanwhile, by studying the faces of the salon's patrons, she was learning which books to suggest, for weren't they like so many maps? Maggie, who'd slipped into the kitchen without them being aware of it, came in with a coffee tray, beaming.
"Anytime you are out of a job, I'll hire you as chief cook and bottle washer."
Bert laughed and promised to remember it. Later, as Susanne walked to the door with him, it was she who said breathlessly, "It has been a lovely evening."
"The best yet, with more to come."
Turning back, Susanne stretched and said. "I feel just wonderful."
Maggie nodded. "There are folks that make you feel that way. Worth seeing often."
In her room, Susanne frowned at the girl in the mirror. Now what had Maggie meant? She'd used her double meaning voice. Ah, that one should choose friends who made one happy.
She thought of Henri. Disturbing, though only on business matters. Danny? Irritating of late, but had she always felt that way? Could that be, rather, a change within herself?
And what did any of this matter? Yet she posed the question the next morning.
"Well, no," Maggie replied to her question, "not always. There's smooth-talkin' folks who make you feel like a million while they're takin' your last dime."
She might have said more but was called to the telephone, and Susanne carried the thought to the thinking room.
Why should Bert soft-talk her? He had nothing to gain. And she had approved what he had said.
She worried the thought until, in exasperation, she went to the desk to draw a pad toward her and start a graph of the salon business.
If the new style became popular in Lees-burg, should the salon or the operators pay for the "refresher course" in haircutting? And how much would it cost the salon in money and in time?
They needed another operator to help with the Christmas holiday rush. There was a spot that could be converted quickly and at not too great expense.
But should she go to that expense, with the seasonal slump just ahead?
Why not accept that as the challenge Bert had mentioned and think up a way of overcoming it?
Hadn't she, those first days at the Hair-After, conceived the idea of staggering crews so some would be available for after parking-meter time?
She had seen a large display advertisement in a big-city newspaper catering to such after-hours clientele as businesswomen and shopgirls. Well, Leesburg had enough of them even within its core area to keep the Hair-After working overtime.
And if the salon loses, she reasoned, I will be the one to suffer the loss. As I've never had anything to lose before, I won't actually suffer. And at least I will have tried.
She carried the thought on. The so-called social group in Leesburg might slight their appearance during the severe weather. The business girl couldn't afford to neglect her appearance.
Perhaps the Hair-After would be taking business from small outskirt shops, but she was inclined to believe they would be substituting for the do-it-yourself-and-groan variety.
Of course she would have a battle royal with Henri. Yet why should she? She must remember it was she who had inherited the salon, not Henri.
Yet suppose Henri became angry and left; how much of the Hair-After business would he carry with him?
"All right," she cried aloud. "Suppose Henri walked out in front of a speeding car, what then? That's no more than a business hazard, depending entirely upon personalities."
Except, of course, Henri before a speeding car was one thing; Henri taking his or her customers to a different salon, another. As Maggie reported her Aunt Mary as having said, Henri seemed a necessary evil.
Well, she had handled him before. She could do it again.
She started Monday morning and ran, not into a blank wall, but into a fusillade of fireworks.
A six-foot square removed from the reception room for an extra operator? Was Miss Susanne serious? She couldn't be. Not at a time like this. Why, the extra operator would be needed for no more than ten days to two weeks at the most. After that-and down went his hand to indicate a slump.
"Then the space won't be needed," flashed Susanne. "So we've lost nothing but the cost of a room divider, a mirror and a chest."
Their spirited altercation reached the eager ears of an early client. She could hardly wait to leave the salon and hurry to the nearest telephone.
"Henri," she concluded, sounded completely exasperated. Imagine being bossed by someone who knows nothing about the business. I wouldn't be surprised if he quit."
Susanne left her business conference with Henri, and she knew that the last thing she needed now was a fight with Danny. And Danny was waiting for her in her office.
Danny told her that he was glad she'd taken his advice. "Soon your hair's going to look all right again."
She was fuming.
"I also took your advice," Danny said. "Thought the whole thing over. You know, this is a good place. We can make it a branch office. Get ourselves married, and you can forget this silly businesswoman thing that's gotten you down."
Susanne was furious, and Danny went on. "Saw Henri this morning," he said. "Had breakfast at the hotel. Filled him in on the details."
So that was it-that was why Henri was in such a mood that day! "Look Danny," she said. "We are not engaged now. Do not buy property here because we're going to marry. That might not happen."
He grinned. "Regardless of our marriage," he said, "this place is perfect for a branch office."
Susanne nodded. "Just so you understand," she said.
Later when she saw Henri she told him that she had no intentions of marrying Danny, regardless of anything Danny had said.
Henri was visibly pleased. "Then I wish you good luck tonight at the businesswoman's meeting," he said.
By the time Susanne arrived home she was exhausted. She kicked off her shoes, prepared a cup of coffee, and had just settled down on the sofa when Henri presented himself. He entered with the air of a man about to propose something quite serious.
"I would suggest the announcement of our marriage as soon as possible," he said.
"Henri-what are you saying?"
"I am saying that the only way to save the salon from bankruptcy is for us to marry as soon as possible."
Susanne prepared a cup of black coffee for Henri while she got the story out of him.