I always booked the last appointment of the day

My name is Madison. I’m 27, a white American, and I live in Reno.

I’m also a lesbian.

A friend introduced me to Jessica’s nail salon about a year ago. Jessica is 36, Vietnamese, and owns the salon. During my first appointment she was the one who worked on my manicure because another technician had called in sick.

She was easy to talk to.

We spent the appointment chatting about local restaurants, hiking trails, and how busy Reno had become over the last few years. Nothing about the conversation felt forced, and I left thinking I had finally found a salon I wanted to keep visiting.

When it was time to book my next appointment, I asked for Jessica again.

Before long, I noticed something about the schedule. The last appointment of the day was usually quieter. The phones stopped ringing as much, walk-ins became rare, and once the other customers left, we could actually finish a conversation without being interrupted every few minutes.

So I started choosing that time every week.

My nails certainly didn't need weekly maintenance, but I kept finding little reasons to come in. Sometimes I changed colors. Sometimes I only wanted a quick touch-up. Looking back, I know I was making excuses because I enjoyed seeing Jessica more than I cared about my manicure.

I never hid that I was a lesbian.

It came up naturally one evening when we were talking about a local community event. Jessica thanked me for mentioning it but didn't say much about her own personal life.

I didn't push.

Over the following months, we became comfortable talking about ordinary things. She told me how stressful owning a salon could be, and I shared stories about my work. Those conversations became the part of my week I looked forward to the most.

One evening, after she finished my manicure, she laughed and asked if I always managed to need nail services exactly seven days apart.

I admitted that my nails probably weren't the real reason I kept coming.

She smiled but didn't seem surprised.

I told her I liked spending time with her and that I purposely booked the last appointment because it gave us a little more privacy to talk without rushing.

For a moment she was quiet.

Then she thanked me for being honest and admitted she had noticed the pattern weeks earlier. She said she enjoyed our conversations too, but she also wanted to be careful because she was the salon owner and I was a customer.

I appreciated that.

Neither of us wanted anyone to feel uncomfortable or think she was treating customers differently because of personal feelings.

We agreed to keep getting to know each other outside the salon instead of using appointments as an excuse.

A week later, we met for coffee on one of her days off.

It felt completely different sitting across from her without a manicure table between us. We talked for hours, and for the first time neither of us had to worry about another customer walking through the door.

I still go to Jessica's salon, but not every week anymore.

Now I only book appointments when I actually need them.

Sometimes I think back to all those end-of-day appointments and laugh. I kept pretending they were about my nails when, deep down, I already knew they were really about finding one more hour with someone I hoped would eventually want to know me outside the salon.