Chapter 4 - The Wrong Woman

CHAPTER 4: THE WRONG WOMAN

He went in for a simple haircut. He walked out 9 hours later...

THE WRONG ONE: HIS SIDE — Part 3 of 5: THE WRONG WOMAN

Quarter to seven and the sun was already behind the ridge, the sky above the development site turning from gold to bruised purple. Langa locked the site office and stood in the half-dark, running a hand over his jaw. Rough. He had investors in the morning and he was seeing Lindiwe on Friday and he looked like he'd been sleeping on the site.

His usual barber, Spha, worked out of Esther's salon two streets over. Good with a fade — understood what Langa wanted without being told twice. But it was late. Spha would have left hours ago.

He drove over anyway, thinking he'd book for the morning. The salon lights were still on — warm yellow glow spilling through the glass shopfront with its hand-painted sign: ESTHER'S HAIR STUDIO. Amapiano playing inside, not loud, just the evening soundtrack of a woman closing up her world. Through the window he could see her — sweeping around the chairs, hips swaying to the beat without realising she was doing it.

He'd noticed her before. Hard not to. She'd brought cold drinks to his crew on a 38-degree day, carrying them in a basin on her hip. She waved every morning. Called him "Mr. Property" with a grin that held too much warmth for a stranger. He hadn't let himself think about her beyond that. She didn't fit.

He pushed the door open. The bell chimed. She looked up. Those dimples arrived before the full smile.

"Spha's gone, right?" he said.

"Since five, chéri. You're too late."