One of Us Is Dead(40)

“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.

“You’re so strong. After that, I could never show my face again,” she said with a laugh.

Shannon leaned forward in her seat like she was about to fight, but I gave her a stern look and she readjusted herself in her chair. She pulled her lips back into a smile, almost like a ventriloquist’s puppet would. Crystal gave everyone a hug, except Shannon. She had started to lean in, but Shannon gave her the look a mother gives to a child when it’s about to do something wrong—a don’t-you-fucking-dare look. Crystal recoiled and nodded instead. Shannon nodded back and took a sip of her coffee. So they were still on tenterhooks with one another. That was to be expected, as getting along with your ex-husband’s new wife took time—lots of time.

Crystal sat down at a nail station across from Karen. Olivia planted herself in front of Shannon. I should have had the contract manicurists make a straight line of these stations today rather than having two lines across from each other. With this group setup, some cattiness was inevitable, especially with the alcohol. I should have made it a dry event too—Manis and Milk, or Manis and Melons. What was I thinking? It was too late for should-haves and would-haves. I was going to get through this, and I was going to ensure these women got through it too.

I grabbed the pitcher of mimosas and made my way around the room, topping off glasses.

“Is anyone else coming?” Shannon asked, glancing at the clock. It was 9:15 a.m. Manis and Mimosas had started fifteen minutes prior, and it was odd that none of my other clients had arrived.