A.ND.Y's Hair
Title: A.ND.Y's Hair
Pairing: Novak Djokovic/Andy Murray
Other characters: Roger Federer, Marat Safin, Janko Tipsarevic
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Two tennis buffs, Andy and Novak run a hair salon together.
Many people are not aware that there is nothing more sensual than touching another person’s hair. Or at least that was what Novak and his best friend Andy thought when they had decided to open a hair salon. And that theory has been proved right over and over again.
“Good evening, Mr. Federer!”
Novak smiled widely, almost skipping to the door to help his favorite customer take off his jacket.
“Good evening, Novak. How have you been?”
The ever-gracious champion with ever-gracious hair was asking how he had been.
“Heee- Other than witnessing some hair disasters, everything has been fine. Thanks for asking.”
Novak was about to ask how Roger had been but he had heard about the number one spot so he just smiled and offered him a seat.
“So what can I do for my favorite customer?”
“The usual, Novak. Well, maybe a little treatment this time. I don’t want people to say that my hair’s stepped down to number two as well.” Roger smiled bitterly.
“Oh, now we can’t let that happen, can we? Don’t worry, Mr. Federer, I’ll make sure that your hair stays the best in the whole history of tennis!”
There was a reason why Novak was all pumped up for Roger’s hair. Not only did he like the champion but also it was Roger who really helped their business. Their salon was close to the Flushing Meadows Park and the Swiss was a four-time U.S. Open champion.
The Serb still remembered the day when he had met the great player in person. To his surprise, the Swiss hadn’t looked like Swiss but rather like an Argentinean. He had applied too much grease on his hair and had his hair tied at the back. But Novak had worked his magic and after a couple of attempts, he could finally get the right style.
The new look turned out to be a huge success and Roger played even better and better, to the point that everyone believed that it must be one of his ancestors that had invented tennis. Much to Novak and Andy’s delight, everyone wanted to know where the champion had his hair done and now, business was thriving thanks to the ATP players and tennis buffs all around the States.
The co-owner of this salon, Andy Murray, had liked Roger Federer until a couple of weeks ago. He had always been the perfect customer, not asking for inappropriate services and treating them right. However, things had changed, or rather Andy’s state of mind had changed and the Swiss was no longer appreciated by the Scot.
‘What are they giggling about? And why does that Federer always have to close his eyes and open his mouth like that? Nole’s just washing his hair, that’s all.’
Andy was supposed to focus on trimming David Ferrer’s hair but his eyes couldn’t leave Novak and his customer. What he hated most was the glint of happiness and excitement that was apparent in his friend’s eyes.
‘Damn, Novak! Why do you care about him so much?!’
Andy had almost cut the Spaniard’s ear when another customer came in and saved him from a lawsuit.
“Rafa!” David was the first to greet the champion and Andy noticed that he was glowing.
‘Oh, so he really does have a thing for him.’
Andy had been suspecting it for a while since David always brought one of Rafael’s pictures and asked if he could have the same look. So he invited Rafael to take a seat right next to David and left the two, excusing himself with a lie that there was something wrong with his scissors.
It wasn’t the first time that Andy had played the matchmaker. He had noticed that one of his regular customers, Mardy Fish would ask to shave his legs just to show them off to one of his other regular customers, Tommy Haas. Whenever the German was there to have his symbolic front hair taken care of, the American would insist in a loud voice that his long, lean legs needed to look better. Eventually, Tommy had made his move and Andy was happy for them since he didn’t have to shave the American’s legs anymore. Tommy seemed to be helping him at home which was more than fine by Andy.
“Hey, Scot boy! You missed me?”
Now that was the dangerous voice that haunted Andy at night.
“Good evening, Mr. Safin.”
“Good evening to you too. Now why don’t you get your pretty self over here and take my jacket for me.”
Now those were the lines that made Novak wanted to throw up.
‘I heard that he already owns half the tour. Does he really have to do that to Andy? Yuk!’
As Novak walked Roger out of the salon and came back in, he felt a hand sneak around his waist from behind.
“Hey, cutie! You look even cuter today.”
Janko Tipsarevic didn’t hesitate to place a kiss on his compatriot’s cheek which made Andy’s fist hit the back of Marat’s neck.
“Ouch, boy! Careful!”
“Sorry, Mr. Safin. I apologize.”
“Well, how about apologizing with a nice kiss on the cheek?”
Novak’s hearing was too good to let that line pass and he started coughing.
“Oh, sweetie, you got a cold?”
Janko started rubbing his hair dresser’s back and Andy had to put his scissors down to avoid another lawsuit.
‘It’s all right. Nole doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like that type of customers. He’s just putting up with him because they’re from the same country.’
As Novak managed to make Janko sit and get his hands off him, Andy grabbed his scissors again.
He liked to reminisce the day when their salon had opened. He had had a huge fight with his best friend from beauty school over the name of the salon but eventually Andy’s opinion prevailed because he had put more of his money into the shop. He had tried to console Novak that his initials were a part of A.ND.Y’s Hair but he never got to find out if it had comforted him.
Their business wasn’t successful from the beginning. When they had decided to open their shop near the Flushing Meadows Park, there was already Ivan Ljubicic and James Blakes’ salon. So in order to attract customers, Novak had to do a whole range of tennis players’ impersonations and Andy had to do his tennis ball trick with his feet until his ankles hurt.
But all of their sorrows melt away when they saw Roger Federer passing by with Andy Roddick, enjoying Novak’s impersonation of the American. Ever since, Ivan and James had moved to another city and their salon dominated the area.
“Psst! Andy! Pass me the drier. What’s with you today?”
Novak asked, eyeing his friend who had been busy massaging the Russian’s scalp somewhat absent-mindedly.
“Nothing. Here. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Andy looked over at Novak who ran his fingers through Janko’s hair to dry it properly and felt a sharp knife of jealousy stab him in the ribs.
‘I wish that was my hair.’
Andy looked at the mirror in front of him and glanced at his poor, abandoned hair.
‘He can’t possibly like me in that kind of way, right…? I mean, I’ve always been the selfish one.’
He was the one who had chosen the name and location of the salon. He was also the one who had deliberately burnt Novak's date jacket with an iron when Mario Ancic had asked him out, while he himself had happily went out for dinner with Tim Henman that night.
‘Yeah, I’m an ass. But I just can’t stand seeing him with someone else.’
Of course, things could’ve been much simpler if Andy had the guts to just tell his friend that he was in love with him. But Andy wasn’t just selfish. He was shy as well. Whenever he had Novak sitting still, ready to listen, he couldn’t manage to bring those words up to his lips and just ended up talking about the weather and stuff.
‘But sometimes he does look a little bit interested in me, doesn’t he?’
Andy wasn’t sure if the slight change in his friend’s attitude since last week could be any indication. Novak seemed to have a problem meeting his eyes for more than five seconds and whenever their hands brushed against each other, he could just feel that something was different.
‘Maybe it’s all in my head. Or maybe he noticed that I like him and feels sorry for me.’
They were not only just best friends but roommates as well, so Andy knew that he couldn’t be able to stand this situation for long. The temptation was always so close and Novak had a bad habit of wearing his towel way too low after a shower.
‘Oh, those filthy water drops that dare go down to the zone…’
“Ouch!! Scot boy! I know I haven’t been around lately but you can’t kill me with that!”
Marat raised his voice and Andy knew that he was in trouble. Everyone was watching them and Andy quickly apologized with a red face.
“I’m very sorry.”
“Of course you should be! I’m bleeding here!” Marat grabbed a tissue and pressed it against his left ear. The bleeding didn’t look nice and Andy could see that he needed a few stitches.
“Nole, we need an ambulance!” He cried out.
“Hush! Marat Safin doesn’t ride in ambulances. Just call me a cab.”
While Novak dialed the phone, Marat leaned towards Andy and whispered something in his ear which made his pale face become even paler.
“You got me? Don’t forget. Ten o’clock.”
Andy nodded and watched the Russian walk out the salon with his dream.
“What?!!”
Novak had almost fainted when he got the answer. He had been poking his friend all day to find out what Marat had said to him.
“What a pervert!! Eww!!” The Serb couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“But we don’t provide those kinds of services! We shave the face, the legs and even the chest at times but not that area!! Eww!”
Novak was going crazy with horrible mental images while Andy just sat on an empty chair, looking at the clock. It was already nine o’clock. He had only an hour left before the Russian marched in.
“Please tell me that you didn’t say yes.” Novak pleaded.
“But he said that he was going to file a lawsuit.”
“Who cares about the lawsuit?!”
“I care. You have no idea how expensive it is to even get a lawyer. It could cost us a fortune. And I really want to keep this salon.”
Novak sighed. He had heard from players how dangerous it was to engage in an activity with Marat Safin. They said that the moment was ecstatic but the aftermaths were horrible. The Russian would simply move on to another guy, leaving his victims writhe in pain.
‘This is so unfair. I just started to love him…’
The Serb had been busy all week, trying to figure out if he would have a good chance as a couple with his best friend. He knew that Andy had feelings for him but he had to know that it wasn’t just a fling. He couldn’t afford jeopardizing their long term friendship because of a stupid fling. He had to be sure that they could make it for more than a few years.
But unfortunately, he was running out of time. He knew that Andy might just fall for the lethal Russian tonight and never look back at him.
Novak let out a small groan and met the Scot’s eyes.
“What, Nole?”
“I want to be your customer.”
Andy made a strange face and answered nervously. “I thought we had an agreement on not doing each other’s hair.”
He wasn’t sure if he had heard right. Hope was creeping inside him.
“And why did we decide that?” Novak pretended that he couldn’t remember.
“Because… we might fall in love.” Andy couldn’t breathe anymore and a painful silence fell between them.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
Andy carefully studied his friend’s face before answering. “I don’t know.”
“But I’m going to pay. I’m not asking for free.”
“Nole...” Andy was pleasantly scared. One of his wildest fantasies was about to come true.
“But my hair hurts!”
Novak felt like crying. Andy had to take the bait. It was already 9:10.
“Andy, I’m serious! My hair fucking hurts!!”
The Serb was about to burst into tears when a low voice sneaked into his ears. “It does?”
The customer nodded.
Andy looked into the mirror and met the hazelnut eyes. “Well then, I’ll have to give you a scalp massage.”
Neither of them looked away and time froze.
Finally, Novak broke the gaze and the intense moment passed away. Andy gently led his friend to the water basin and washed his hair.
The water was warm but Andy’s hands were even warmer. Novak closed his eyes and enjoyed the cozy feeling. He had never felt anything warmer and softer in his life.
‘Oh, Andy…’
Novak’s eyes shot open when he was sure that he had felt Andy’s lips on the forehead. He must have felt right because Andy was staring at him with such an intense gaze that Novak felt his skin melt away.
“Uh… Andy?”
Water was running into his ears so he tried to get up. Apparently, Andy didn’t like that idea since he was pinned to the chair again with Andy straddling his lap.
‘Oh boy, I wish he wouldn’t notice my hands shaking so badly. It was just a quick kiss and my stupid heart has to beat this quickly.’ Andy cursed his heart and glanced at the clock. He couldn’t care about anything anymore. He had to make his move now.
“Nole, please tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what you think about me.”
“What I think about you? You’re my best frie…”
Andy moved his hips and induced a gasp followed by a moan.
“Don’t do that, Andy! That’s just… mean.”
“Really?”
As Andy’s smile turned wicked, Novak quickly gave him another answer. “Okay, okay! Fine! I like you!”
“Oh, you like me?”
Andy moved once more and Novak gave up. “I love you! Enough? For God’s sake, Andy, you can’t do that! That’s cruel!”
The Scot kissed the tip of his friend’s nose and got up from the warm lap.
“Where are you going?” Novak cried out, afraid that Andy might be having second thoughts of him.
“To put the CLOSED sign on.”
After their first night inside the salon…
“We’re doomed.” Novak groaned.
“I’m happy.” Andy grinned.
“But what about that lawsuit? Safin’s going to win it. You stabbed his ear with sharp scissors. It’s going to cost us a fortune.”
Novak buried his face in Andy’s chest and Andy’s smile grew wider. The Serb had lost feelings in his legs a long time ago but he didn’t mind Andy’s weight.
“We might have to sell the salon, don’t you think?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got that under control.”
Novak looked up. “Do you know any lawyers?”
“Nope. But I know exactly what to do. Safin might be a pain in the ass but at least he’s got a soft spot for someone.” Andy chuckled, making his fingers jump on Novak’s spiky hair.
“Who?”
“Juan Carlos Ferrero.”
“Really? But he’s not even one of our customers.”
“Yes, but I’m going to ask Tim to ask Roger to ask Carlos to ask him.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“And if the seemingly elegant Spaniard doesn’t want a grunting Russian?” Novak was afraid to hear the answer.
“Then we flee and open that pizza and pancake place on a ski slope as you wished.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
Pairing: Novak Djokovic/Andy Murray
Other characters: Roger Federer, Marat Safin, Janko Tipsarevic
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Two tennis buffs, Andy and Novak run a hair salon together.
Many people are not aware that there is nothing more sensual than touching another person’s hair. Or at least that was what Novak and his best friend Andy thought when they had decided to open a hair salon. And that theory has been proved right over and over again.
“Good evening, Mr. Federer!”
Novak smiled widely, almost skipping to the door to help his favorite customer take off his jacket.
“Good evening, Novak. How have you been?”
The ever-gracious champion with ever-gracious hair was asking how he had been.
“Heee- Other than witnessing some hair disasters, everything has been fine. Thanks for asking.”
Novak was about to ask how Roger had been but he had heard about the number one spot so he just smiled and offered him a seat.
“So what can I do for my favorite customer?”
“The usual, Novak. Well, maybe a little treatment this time. I don’t want people to say that my hair’s stepped down to number two as well.” Roger smiled bitterly.
“Oh, now we can’t let that happen, can we? Don’t worry, Mr. Federer, I’ll make sure that your hair stays the best in the whole history of tennis!”
There was a reason why Novak was all pumped up for Roger’s hair. Not only did he like the champion but also it was Roger who really helped their business. Their salon was close to the Flushing Meadows Park and the Swiss was a four-time U.S. Open champion.
The Serb still remembered the day when he had met the great player in person. To his surprise, the Swiss hadn’t looked like Swiss but rather like an Argentinean. He had applied too much grease on his hair and had his hair tied at the back. But Novak had worked his magic and after a couple of attempts, he could finally get the right style.
The new look turned out to be a huge success and Roger played even better and better, to the point that everyone believed that it must be one of his ancestors that had invented tennis. Much to Novak and Andy’s delight, everyone wanted to know where the champion had his hair done and now, business was thriving thanks to the ATP players and tennis buffs all around the States.
The co-owner of this salon, Andy Murray, had liked Roger Federer until a couple of weeks ago. He had always been the perfect customer, not asking for inappropriate services and treating them right. However, things had changed, or rather Andy’s state of mind had changed and the Swiss was no longer appreciated by the Scot.
‘What are they giggling about? And why does that Federer always have to close his eyes and open his mouth like that? Nole’s just washing his hair, that’s all.’
Andy was supposed to focus on trimming David Ferrer’s hair but his eyes couldn’t leave Novak and his customer. What he hated most was the glint of happiness and excitement that was apparent in his friend’s eyes.
‘Damn, Novak! Why do you care about him so much?!’
Andy had almost cut the Spaniard’s ear when another customer came in and saved him from a lawsuit.
“Rafa!” David was the first to greet the champion and Andy noticed that he was glowing.
‘Oh, so he really does have a thing for him.’
Andy had been suspecting it for a while since David always brought one of Rafael’s pictures and asked if he could have the same look. So he invited Rafael to take a seat right next to David and left the two, excusing himself with a lie that there was something wrong with his scissors.
It wasn’t the first time that Andy had played the matchmaker. He had noticed that one of his regular customers, Mardy Fish would ask to shave his legs just to show them off to one of his other regular customers, Tommy Haas. Whenever the German was there to have his symbolic front hair taken care of, the American would insist in a loud voice that his long, lean legs needed to look better. Eventually, Tommy had made his move and Andy was happy for them since he didn’t have to shave the American’s legs anymore. Tommy seemed to be helping him at home which was more than fine by Andy.
“Hey, Scot boy! You missed me?”
Now that was the dangerous voice that haunted Andy at night.
“Good evening, Mr. Safin.”
“Good evening to you too. Now why don’t you get your pretty self over here and take my jacket for me.”
Now those were the lines that made Novak wanted to throw up.
‘I heard that he already owns half the tour. Does he really have to do that to Andy? Yuk!’
As Novak walked Roger out of the salon and came back in, he felt a hand sneak around his waist from behind.
“Hey, cutie! You look even cuter today.”
Janko Tipsarevic didn’t hesitate to place a kiss on his compatriot’s cheek which made Andy’s fist hit the back of Marat’s neck.
“Ouch, boy! Careful!”
“Sorry, Mr. Safin. I apologize.”
“Well, how about apologizing with a nice kiss on the cheek?”
Novak’s hearing was too good to let that line pass and he started coughing.
“Oh, sweetie, you got a cold?”
Janko started rubbing his hair dresser’s back and Andy had to put his scissors down to avoid another lawsuit.
‘It’s all right. Nole doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like that type of customers. He’s just putting up with him because they’re from the same country.’
As Novak managed to make Janko sit and get his hands off him, Andy grabbed his scissors again.
He liked to reminisce the day when their salon had opened. He had had a huge fight with his best friend from beauty school over the name of the salon but eventually Andy’s opinion prevailed because he had put more of his money into the shop. He had tried to console Novak that his initials were a part of A.ND.Y’s Hair but he never got to find out if it had comforted him.
Their business wasn’t successful from the beginning. When they had decided to open their shop near the Flushing Meadows Park, there was already Ivan Ljubicic and James Blakes’ salon. So in order to attract customers, Novak had to do a whole range of tennis players’ impersonations and Andy had to do his tennis ball trick with his feet until his ankles hurt.
But all of their sorrows melt away when they saw Roger Federer passing by with Andy Roddick, enjoying Novak’s impersonation of the American. Ever since, Ivan and James had moved to another city and their salon dominated the area.
“Psst! Andy! Pass me the drier. What’s with you today?”
Novak asked, eyeing his friend who had been busy massaging the Russian’s scalp somewhat absent-mindedly.
“Nothing. Here. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Andy looked over at Novak who ran his fingers through Janko’s hair to dry it properly and felt a sharp knife of jealousy stab him in the ribs.
‘I wish that was my hair.’
Andy looked at the mirror in front of him and glanced at his poor, abandoned hair.
‘He can’t possibly like me in that kind of way, right…? I mean, I’ve always been the selfish one.’
He was the one who had chosen the name and location of the salon. He was also the one who had deliberately burnt Novak's date jacket with an iron when Mario Ancic had asked him out, while he himself had happily went out for dinner with Tim Henman that night.
‘Yeah, I’m an ass. But I just can’t stand seeing him with someone else.’
Of course, things could’ve been much simpler if Andy had the guts to just tell his friend that he was in love with him. But Andy wasn’t just selfish. He was shy as well. Whenever he had Novak sitting still, ready to listen, he couldn’t manage to bring those words up to his lips and just ended up talking about the weather and stuff.
‘But sometimes he does look a little bit interested in me, doesn’t he?’
Andy wasn’t sure if the slight change in his friend’s attitude since last week could be any indication. Novak seemed to have a problem meeting his eyes for more than five seconds and whenever their hands brushed against each other, he could just feel that something was different.
‘Maybe it’s all in my head. Or maybe he noticed that I like him and feels sorry for me.’
They were not only just best friends but roommates as well, so Andy knew that he couldn’t be able to stand this situation for long. The temptation was always so close and Novak had a bad habit of wearing his towel way too low after a shower.
‘Oh, those filthy water drops that dare go down to the zone…’
“Ouch!! Scot boy! I know I haven’t been around lately but you can’t kill me with that!”
Marat raised his voice and Andy knew that he was in trouble. Everyone was watching them and Andy quickly apologized with a red face.
“I’m very sorry.”
“Of course you should be! I’m bleeding here!” Marat grabbed a tissue and pressed it against his left ear. The bleeding didn’t look nice and Andy could see that he needed a few stitches.
“Nole, we need an ambulance!” He cried out.
“Hush! Marat Safin doesn’t ride in ambulances. Just call me a cab.”
While Novak dialed the phone, Marat leaned towards Andy and whispered something in his ear which made his pale face become even paler.
“You got me? Don’t forget. Ten o’clock.”
Andy nodded and watched the Russian walk out the salon with his dream.
“What?!!”
Novak had almost fainted when he got the answer. He had been poking his friend all day to find out what Marat had said to him.
“What a pervert!! Eww!!” The Serb couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“But we don’t provide those kinds of services! We shave the face, the legs and even the chest at times but not that area!! Eww!”
Novak was going crazy with horrible mental images while Andy just sat on an empty chair, looking at the clock. It was already nine o’clock. He had only an hour left before the Russian marched in.
“Please tell me that you didn’t say yes.” Novak pleaded.
“But he said that he was going to file a lawsuit.”
“Who cares about the lawsuit?!”
“I care. You have no idea how expensive it is to even get a lawyer. It could cost us a fortune. And I really want to keep this salon.”
Novak sighed. He had heard from players how dangerous it was to engage in an activity with Marat Safin. They said that the moment was ecstatic but the aftermaths were horrible. The Russian would simply move on to another guy, leaving his victims writhe in pain.
‘This is so unfair. I just started to love him…’
The Serb had been busy all week, trying to figure out if he would have a good chance as a couple with his best friend. He knew that Andy had feelings for him but he had to know that it wasn’t just a fling. He couldn’t afford jeopardizing their long term friendship because of a stupid fling. He had to be sure that they could make it for more than a few years.
But unfortunately, he was running out of time. He knew that Andy might just fall for the lethal Russian tonight and never look back at him.
Novak let out a small groan and met the Scot’s eyes.
“What, Nole?”
“I want to be your customer.”
Andy made a strange face and answered nervously. “I thought we had an agreement on not doing each other’s hair.”
He wasn’t sure if he had heard right. Hope was creeping inside him.
“And why did we decide that?” Novak pretended that he couldn’t remember.
“Because… we might fall in love.” Andy couldn’t breathe anymore and a painful silence fell between them.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
Andy carefully studied his friend’s face before answering. “I don’t know.”
“But I’m going to pay. I’m not asking for free.”
“Nole...” Andy was pleasantly scared. One of his wildest fantasies was about to come true.
“But my hair hurts!”
Novak felt like crying. Andy had to take the bait. It was already 9:10.
“Andy, I’m serious! My hair fucking hurts!!”
The Serb was about to burst into tears when a low voice sneaked into his ears. “It does?”
The customer nodded.
Andy looked into the mirror and met the hazelnut eyes. “Well then, I’ll have to give you a scalp massage.”
Neither of them looked away and time froze.
Finally, Novak broke the gaze and the intense moment passed away. Andy gently led his friend to the water basin and washed his hair.
The water was warm but Andy’s hands were even warmer. Novak closed his eyes and enjoyed the cozy feeling. He had never felt anything warmer and softer in his life.
‘Oh, Andy…’
Novak’s eyes shot open when he was sure that he had felt Andy’s lips on the forehead. He must have felt right because Andy was staring at him with such an intense gaze that Novak felt his skin melt away.
“Uh… Andy?”
Water was running into his ears so he tried to get up. Apparently, Andy didn’t like that idea since he was pinned to the chair again with Andy straddling his lap.
‘Oh boy, I wish he wouldn’t notice my hands shaking so badly. It was just a quick kiss and my stupid heart has to beat this quickly.’ Andy cursed his heart and glanced at the clock. He couldn’t care about anything anymore. He had to make his move now.
“Nole, please tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what you think about me.”
“What I think about you? You’re my best frie…”
Andy moved his hips and induced a gasp followed by a moan.
“Don’t do that, Andy! That’s just… mean.”
“Really?”
As Andy’s smile turned wicked, Novak quickly gave him another answer. “Okay, okay! Fine! I like you!”
“Oh, you like me?”
Andy moved once more and Novak gave up. “I love you! Enough? For God’s sake, Andy, you can’t do that! That’s cruel!”
The Scot kissed the tip of his friend’s nose and got up from the warm lap.
“Where are you going?” Novak cried out, afraid that Andy might be having second thoughts of him.
“To put the CLOSED sign on.”
After their first night inside the salon…
“We’re doomed.” Novak groaned.
“I’m happy.” Andy grinned.
“But what about that lawsuit? Safin’s going to win it. You stabbed his ear with sharp scissors. It’s going to cost us a fortune.”
Novak buried his face in Andy’s chest and Andy’s smile grew wider. The Serb had lost feelings in his legs a long time ago but he didn’t mind Andy’s weight.
“We might have to sell the salon, don’t you think?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got that under control.”
Novak looked up. “Do you know any lawyers?”
“Nope. But I know exactly what to do. Safin might be a pain in the ass but at least he’s got a soft spot for someone.” Andy chuckled, making his fingers jump on Novak’s spiky hair.
“Who?”
“Juan Carlos Ferrero.”
“Really? But he’s not even one of our customers.”
“Yes, but I’m going to ask Tim to ask Roger to ask Carlos to ask him.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“And if the seemingly elegant Spaniard doesn’t want a grunting Russian?” Novak was afraid to hear the answer.
“Then we flee and open that pizza and pancake place on a ski slope as you wished.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”