Chapter Five: Guns, Glitter, and a Gala Gone Wrong

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Warning, the Alver's part will have many flowery words, lol. It seems unnecessary, but in my mind, it is actually needed...? I think I just want to bring the whole thing to life and found this method fits.

"Cale, dear!" a voice called out, the refined posh accent slithered rather smoothly into his ears. "Oh, God, come in!"

"Hi, Giselle," he greeted the elderly woman, a smile let loose as the worn hands ushered him into the salon.

Once in, Giselle immediately went to work, gauging his hair for any treatments that might be appropriate for its current state. A routine that they had unconsciously fallen into from the first time Cale wandered into her salon upon accident. It was unfortunate that he came here for a different reason this time, though he wouldn't really mind indulging in a scalp massage from the nimble hands.

"Actually, I came to ask you for a favor," he cut to the chase, feeling a bit awkward at the thought of asking someone for help, especially since the said person was the owner of a renowned salon, whose plate was likely full of everything.

"Oh, my, our dear Cale is finally asking for my favor...?" she exclaimed, a hand flying to her lips in surprise. Cale couldn't quite tell if it was a sign of approval or something else. "Natalie, darling, did you hear that? Surely, I'm not imagining things, am I?"

Natalie is here?

That was weird, she should be tending her flower shop at this hour.

"About damn time he did, Giselle," came a voice from behind Giselle, this time belonging to a youth. "After everything he's done for us, whenever we ask what we can do in return, he just brushes it off."

"Now, isn't that right?" Giselle said, releasing a weary sigh as she rested her hand on her cheek. "Much like when he caught that awful stalker of yours. With that indifferent attitude, one might think it was merely another everyday affair in his life."

Ah, that incident. Cale would rather chalk it up to coincidence. He happened to notice the man acting strangely and the unmistakable shape protruding from his clothing, which really turned out to be a gun. So, one thing leads to another, and Cale was just relieved the only injured party was the man—not like, you know, with Tony.

"When I tried to treat him to dinner, he just vanished into thin air." Natalie snorted. In Cale's defense, it was the interns' fault—or Tony's; he couldn't quite decide which one caused more trouble. "You'd better say yes right away, Giselle, before he thinks you're rejecting him."

With Giselle stepping aside to make room for Natalie, Cale finally had a clear view of the woman. She had come to deliver orders from Giselle, he presumed. Dressed in an apron featuring the shop's logo, her curly ginger hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a few unruly strands framing her face. The flowers she arranged in the vase were stunning. Cale noted the white lilies and tulips, but there was something else that caught his eye.

"One of your nails is broken," he mentioned, grimacing inwardly at the sight. "You should see a doctor before it gets infected."

"See, darling, even Cale has noticed!" She shook her head with a chastising look. "She insists it was just a pure accident, but pray tell, what kind of accident could possibly inflict a dreadful affliction upon a young lady's hand? Moreover, she has been careful in avoiding acrylic nails for this very reason. A shame, really."

"Now, Giselle, isn't that a harsh thing to say about the person who has suffered from it?" A hand reached out to Giselle's shoulder as Natalie stepped in, attempting to comfort the troubled woman. "I'm okay, really. I promise I'll see a doctor after this."

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