One of Us Is Dead(58)

“I’m going to try to help put an end to the drama. I’ll see if I can get everyone to get along and be cordial with one another in the salon . . . for Jenny’s sake.”

“Good luck.” Keisha laughed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I took a step back, looking at her, trying to focus on her icy-blue eyes, but her full lips that begged to be kissed always grabbed my attention.

“I’m just saying it’s not going to be easy. Every one of you has been off since Bryce traded Shannon in for Crystal.” Keisha bit her lip and put her hands on her hips.

“Even me?” I stammered.

“Yes, even you.” Keisha shifted her hips. I leaned back on the table.

“How so?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Well, you’re sleeping with me.”

“You think me sleeping with you is just me ‘being off ’?” I made air quotes with my fingers and then returned my hands to my hips.

Keisha let out a huff. “No . . . I don’t know. You think your husband is cheating on you and you’re pissed about it, despite the fact you’re sleeping with me. What do you expect me to think?”

I rubbed my forehead with my fingers. She was right. I didn’t know what to say or what to think or even what I wanted her to think. “It’s just really complicated,” I finally said.

“What’s complicated? You either want to be with me or you don’t. You either want to be with your husband or you don’t. What is it you want?”

I looked around the room and then back at her, my gaze drawn to her full lips again. Her eyes begged for an answer. I thought about my life with Mark. The passion had disappeared long ago. Then there was Keisha. When I was with her, I didn’t question myself. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with me. I just thought about the moment. About us. About how I felt. About how natural it was. Not forced. Just the way it should be. Effortless. But I had to think about my business, my son, and my life as a whole. But that could wait for now.

“I want you. I only want you,” I said as I closed the gap between us, kissing her so hard she’d forget why we were fighting in the first place. It worked. She kissed me back. Her hands all over my body, unclasping my bra, on my breasts, beneath my panties. My hands following suit on her body. Lips on lips. Tongue on skin. Our breathing heightened, while “If I Ain’t Got You” by Alicia Keys played softly on Keisha’s phone. She pushed me onto the table, and our hands ventured south while she kissed my lips, sucking on my bottom one. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on my breathing. Trying to wait for her, so we could finish together. We were in this together.

The door slamming against the wall stopped us dead in our tracks. I sprang away from Keisha and quickly covered myself with my hands. Keisha startled, swiftly doing the same.

“What in the fuck is going on here?” Olivia’s eyes and mouth were wide open. She stood there taking it all in—Keisha and me, half-naked, struggling to catch our breath. She looked at each of us, raising an eyebrow, her mouth transforming from a perfect circle to a devilish half smile.

“I didn’t realize finger-banging was a service offered here,” she said with a laugh, then she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I glanced at Keisha, exchanging a look of horror, and I quickly threw on my clothes.

“Olivia, wait!” I ran out of the room, chasing after her.





48

Olivia


Sitting in Jenny’s salon chair, I waited impatiently for her to arrive. We had an appointment. I was late. She was later, and Jenny was never tardy. Her time wasn’t important like mine. I sent a few text messages, then admired myself in the mirror. My hair, although long and luscious, needed a little volume. My latest Botox injections had started to wear off, allowing me to express my emotions more visually—like the shock I felt thirty minutes ago when I walked in on Keisha and Karen. Who would have thought? Mommy Dearest and Little Miss Perfect Realtor diving all the way to the bottom of Lake Muff. Karen begged me to keep it to myself, and I obliged after some groveling on her part. As long as I held other people’s secrets, I had power. I wasn’t sure yet what I would do with this new power, but for now, I’d hold on to it. What would Mark think of all this? I mean, he had his own little dark sexual fantasies. Such a submissive man. I’m actually not surprised he turned Karen gay.

“Hi, so sorry I’m late.” Jenny emerged from the back. Her hair was tied up in a haphazard ponytail. Her clothes were rumpled. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her face was blotchy. It looked like she had been crying. She immediately wrapped a cape around me, pulling my hair out of it and fluffing it.

“What will it be today?”

I examined her reflection in the mirror while she waited for me to answer. There was clearly something wrong. Did I care? Probably not. Did I want to know what was bothering her? Knowledge was power.

“Are you okay?” I asked. My face turned sympathetic. It was something I had practiced through watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy, when the doctor had to tell some poor patient’s family their loved one didn’t make it. The look on the doctor’s face was always one of sympathy. It required a slightly pinched brow, fused lips, a small rise of the forehead, and eyes that were engaged with the one you intended to be sympathetic for. I had mastered it.