“I don’t think Olivia needs any encouraging.” Shannon raised an eyebrow.
Jenny waved a hand at Shannon, dismissing her comment. “I’ll give Olivia a call today and make sure she comes to Manis and Mimosas tomorrow morning.”
“That’s great, Jenny.” I smiled.
“I’ll try to be nice,” Shannon added, but it was unconvincing.
I nodded at her.
“I’ll make sure she feels welcome,” Karen said.
“And I’ll make sure you’re all tipsy enough to tolerate her tomorrow,” Keisha said with a laugh.
31
Jenny present
Splashing some water on my face, I glance at myself in the mirror of a sterile bathroom. Although I’m looking at my reflection, all I can see is through it. I quickly apply some lip balm to my dry lips and pull my hair from its ponytail, running my hands through it to give it some life. I don’t know how I got dragged into all of this. I should have kept my distance from these women. I should have stuck to my role as the help, rather than becoming a confidant or a friend. What was I thinking?
Inside the interrogation room, I take a seat again. It’s mere seconds later that Detective Sanford enters the room. He shuts the door behind him and sits across from me.
He drops his notepad on the table and scans over his notes. “Now where were we?” Sanford taps his pen on the paper, “Oh, yes. That’s right. Olivia and Dean. Tell me more about that.” He looks at me, the corners of his eyes slightly wrinkling.
“There were definitely marital problems between them,” I say.
“Did Olivia tell you that?”
“She told all of us that.”
He scribbles down some more notes. “The day Crystal came into the salon and explained what Olivia told her about Dean. It seemed like all the women were getting along again, or at least were planning to.”
“That’s right.” I nod. My lips form a straight line.
“Then what happened?” He taps his pen on the table.
“The husbands happened.”
32
Jenny
Keisha and I were prepping for our monthly Manis and Mimosas event, setting out fresh fruit and baked goods and putting champagne and orange juice on ice. I had resorted to biting my nails early that morning and fidgeting with everything in sight—including adjusting and straightening up my station at least seven times. After the breakin, I felt uneasy. The salon didn’t feel like it was mine anymore. I felt violated. Sure, the building was still standing and Glow was back to its pristine condition, but it just felt like everything had been taken from me. Keisha rubbed my shoulder as she passed by, her way of ensuring I was okay. I knew she worried about me because I wouldn’t talk to her about what happened. I wanted to forget it. Although I pretended like it wasn’t on my mind, it was. Sometimes, I’d flash right back to that moment when I was gasping for my last breath. My life felt like a nightmare, only I was awake for it.
“How do you think it’ll go today?” Keisha asked.
I pulled my fingers from my mouth. “I think it’ll go well, or at least I hope it does.”
Mary, the salon assistant, popped in with a fresh carafe of coffee from a local café and set it on the table. I’m not sure why we even provided it. No one ever drank the coffee anyway. It was all about the mimosas. We kept a few contract manicurists on for events like this. Mary escorted them in, and they began to set up their stations. They mostly kept to themselves, but they did great work. Several bottles of nail polish slid from one of the manicurist’s kits onto the floor with a crash. My body jumped and my shoulders tightened. I felt like I was always on edge now. The manicurist apologized and cleaned them up.
“You ready for this?” Keisha asked, looking me in the eye.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I gave an unconvincing smile.
“Should we have hired security?” Keisha laughed.
“That wouldn’t have been a bad idea.”
The front bell jingled.
In walked Shannon, wearing a Chanel tank top and Givenchy black linen pants. She pulled off her oversized Prada sunglasses in a dramatic fashion.
“Hello, ladies! I’m ready for Manis and Mugshots.” She laughed. “I’m kidding. I’m sure we’ll all be on our best behavior.”
Shannon greeted us and immediately walked to the snack table, grabbing a croissant and pouring herself a cup of coffee, which surprised me. Like I said, no one ever drank the coffee. She was changing—or at least trying to—and she was already doing so much better now that she was focused on herself instead of Bryce. One of our manicurists began working on Shannon’s left hand.
“When’s the guest of honor arriving?” Shannon raised an eyebrow.
“Be nice,” I said as I straightened up the food and beverage table.
“I’m always nice . . . except when I’m not,” she snickered. “You doing okay, Jenny?”
I let out a quiet huff. I was tired of people asking if I was okay. I always said I was, even though I knew I wasn’t. I didn’t like all the attention on me, which is why I wore a turtleneck again today and used our thickest concealer to cover my eye. My lip had healed nicely, just a little swollen, so it looked as though I had recent lip injections.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I finally said.
The front door chimed, and moments later in walked Karen wearing yoga pants, sandals, and a tank top. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and although she was in workout clothes, she had clearly put in an effort as her face was in full makeup—natural-looking, but still full.
Karen walked over to Shannon, giving her a partial hug, and then did the same to me. Her hug was a little longer than usual. That’s what I got now, long hugs and are-you-okay’s. She nodded at Keisha and gave her a coy smile. They must have bonded at the gala. Plus, yesterday was the first time Karen had her spray tan done by anyone other than me. Although, she didn’t look any more tanned. Keisha poured Karen a mimosa. They were becoming friends. Good. At least some people were getting along.
“You’re dressed for the gym, Karen. Did you intend on breaking a sweat at this soiree?” Shannon chuckled.
“No, there won’t be any fighting today. We’re all grown women. We’re classy, and we can be civil,” Karen assured.
“Classy?” Keisha laughed.
“Ish.” Karen shrugged as she took a seat. Keisha grabbed her hands and began massaging lotion into them.
The front door chimed, and I heard one set of heels and one set of sandals make their way quickly from the front area to just before the curtains. There were faint whispers, and then, all at once, the black curtains burst open, flooding the room with natural light. I let out the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. I pulled my shoulders back and smiled. This was my salon, and it was all I had left in the world. In walked Olivia, wearing a red skirt and a white long-sleeved top, followed by Crystal.
Olivia gave a big toothy grin. “I’m so glad we could all get together,” she declared.
“You’re looking so much better, Jenny. You were unsightly before,” Olivia said with air kisses on each side of my cheek.
I could always count on Olivia for her brutal honesty. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m feeling much better too,” I lied.
“Shannon, I hope you’re not still upset with me.” Olivia brought her hand to her chest. “It devastated me how the gala ended. Unfortunately, I don’t think people will ever forget that.” She shook her head.
“I’m perfectly fine, Olivia.” Shannon rolled her eyes.