Just a Hair Stylist - Chris Evans story \\✔️

Chapter Fifty-four

At work the next day, time flew by pretty well. Too help butter up your manager about your upcoming absences from the salon, you scheduled yourself for the full day. It worked out for you, too. All of your time was booked with clients. Your manager was right- people loved you. Duh.  When your regulars called for appointments and knew you were back in the shop, word got around. Smiling and familiar faces always help the day go by fast. Besides, a day spent with a chair that was never empty meant a good day of tips for you. Cha-ching!

After work, you grabbed a late dinner on your way home. You threw your sub sandwich in the fridge to take Archie out for a long apology walk, for him being cooped up all day. You chatted with Chris on the phone, while you wondered around with Archie. You caught him up on your busy day and he let you in on some of his obligations for New York. Some of his appearances were pretty public, like the premier and at the Stock Exchange. But he was making a visit to the Marvel offices and thought you might want to tag along. Of course, you agreed. 

You got off the phone when you were back upstairs in your apartment. Feeding Archie, and yourself, worked better with two hands anyway. Before you hung up, you made plans to catch up with Chris and Scott for the Red Sox game the next day. With Archie chomping away on his kibble, you took your sandwich out to the living room to see what you'd been missing in your DVR.

The next morning, you and Archie took a jog along the beach. The warm sun felt amazing and you were noticing the improvement in your endurance, when you checked the running app on your phone. Give yourself a well deserved pat on the back. That mud run you've got coming up is gonna be a walk in the park. ...A very, muddy and oddly planned park. But, whatever. You're gonna crush it!

After your shower, you put your hands on your hips and frowned. Yep. There was that pile of press tour laundry you'd left lying in the basket. With a sigh through puffy cheeks, you got to work, matching socks and folding shirts. You couldn't put it off anymore. You had to pack for your next trip and some of what you needed was in the rumpled mess. 

Sorting through the pile, you folded what clothes you could and set aside the rest to iron. You opened up your suitcase on the bed again and Archie groaned from his spot on the floor. He knew what was coming. You shushed him and checked the forecast on the weather app on you phone for the Big Apple and back home in Cincinnati. You were making a quick stop on your way back to Los Angeles. You plugged your iPod into the sound dock for some tunes, while you started tucking away a few outfits for your trip.

While you put some things on hangars for the closet, you pulled out the Red Sox jersey Chris had gotten you. You knew better than to show up to watch the game without it. Giving the shirt a quick sniff to see if it smelled too stale from hanging in the closet so long, you smirked to yourself, thinking about the shit it would stir up if you left the jersey at home. After all, the Sox were playing the Yankees. Any attire New York colored or related would surely cause heads to explode. But, nahhhh.

You tossed the shirt into the newly emptied laundry basket to go in with the small load of laundry you needed to do to be done for the week. The joke wasn't worth causing the Evans boys a meltdown. You went to the rack of hooks on the back of your bedroom door to get your Red Sox cap and walked it out to set by your keys, so you wouldn't forget. 

By the time you ran your little load of laundry through the washer and dryer, and folded it this time, like a responsible adult, it was time to head over to Chris' house. Archie took his regular spot upfront with you, copiloting with his head out the window for most of the ride. You made a mental note to check around on Amazon for a Red Sox scarf, or something, for Archie to wear. Chris would get a kick out of that. 

It was a bit of trouble finding a place on Chris' street to park. The curb was kind of crowded. You ended up a couple of houses away. The weather was nice and you weren't surprised to hear the sounds of a small barbecue, as you passed a neighbor's house. At the gate, Archie sat, leaned lazily against the side of your leg, while you pressed the call button.