One of Us Is Dead(59)

“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed, and I’ve just been off since the break-in,” she confessed while combing through my hair.

Oh yes, the break-in. I nearly forgot about that because it didn’t affect me in the slightest. I was beyond tired of hearing about it. It wasn’t that big a deal. Like, she was fine. Sure, a little beaten up. But the skin heals perfectly, and I should know. Mine’s been cut into a dozen times and look at me, I’m stunning.

“That must have been horrible.” I feigned interest.

She slightly nodded. “Yeah, I’m still working through it.”

Ugh! When I made this appointment, I didn’t realize I’d accepted an invitation to Jenny’s pity party. For Christ’s sake! I suppose I brought this on myself. They were just supposed to break some things and leave. That’s it! Just enough to rattle her. It was punishment for her kicking me out of the salon. She wasn’t supposed to be at Glow when it happened, and those buffoons I hired messed the whole thing up. When I saw Jenny after the attack, I felt the tiniest pang of guilt. Like when I cheat on my diet—that type of guilt, small and fleeting.

“What’s there to work through?” I pried, holding eye contact with her. She glanced around, then at my hair, and then back at me.

She hesitated, and I thought for sure she was going to close up and change the subject, but I have a way with people.

“Umm . . . going through that made me feel violated. I’m not sure if that’s even the right word.” Jenny brought out a container of large hair rollers and sectioned off the hair on the top of my head.

“Understandable.” I raised an eyebrow but quickly lowered it to its sympathetic position. “I’m sure you’re feeling alone as well.”

Jenny’s eyes widened slightly as she rolled one of the curlers and pinned it.

“Yeah, even more so now. It made me realize that I needed more outside of these four walls,” she said, looking around.

“So, it was a good thing it happened?” I perked a lip up.

“I wouldn’t say that at all.” She shook her head.

“My mistake.”

She continued to roll curlers into my hair quietly. Every curler had the same amount of hair in it. Jenny was so meticulous and fervent about her work. If only she could apply that same type of passion to her personal life, then maybe she wouldn’t be feeling sorry for herself.

“I think you just need a night out.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Perfect. It’s settled then. You’ll come out with us girls. Me, Karen, and Crystal, and you can bring your little Keisha friend.” I grabbed my phone and started typing up a group text message.

“Oh . . . no . . . no . . . no,” she said, shaking her head.

“I won’t take no for an answer.” I raised an eyebrow and hit Send on my phone. Jenny’s phone buzzed. She picked it up, and I could see her cringe as she read my message.

Hey ladies. Jenny NEEDS us! She’s in dire need of a night out, Buckhead style. Meeting at Death & Company tonight at 9 p.m. See y’all there.

She forced a smile as she set her phone down and went back to working on my hair.

“You’re going to have a killer time,” I said with a wink.

I knew she had no interest in spending any time with me outside of Glow, but I didn’t care. This would be fun and would surely make up for the little strangulation incident I caused. Jenny and I had been butting heads for a while, so it was time to get her to fall back in line—behind me.





49

Crystal


I tied my black robe tightly around my body and leaned over the island counter to look at the sprawled-out documents. I was careful to reposition my head of towel-wrapped hair so it wouldn’t spill out. The documents on top were the ones Bryce had just laid out, detailing our new life insurance policy. The papers below were everything concerning our housewarming Halloween party: caterers, menus, guest lists, vendors, invoices, etc.

“How does it look?” Bryce asked as he pulled his tie loose from his neck and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his white-collared shirt.

I scanned the papers quickly. Increase of life insurance coverage to ten million dollars on me and ten million dollars on Bryce. Lots of terms. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I continued to bounce my eyes around the text. It felt like the terms and conditions on an iPhone update: too long and too complicated. Yada yada, I accept. There were tiny Post-it Notes stuck to the spots where I was meant to sign.

“It looks official,” I finally said as I looked up at Bryce. My eyes refocused from the strain of reading the tiny black text.

“It is. Need anything explained?”

I shook my head. I signed the papers, gathered them up, and handed them back to him.

He leaned over, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Perfect. I’ll get these filed in the morning.”

I unwrapped the towel from my head, tossed it over my shoulder, and began finger-combing through my damp hair. My phone buzzed a third time.

“Who’s that?” Bryce asked.

I shrugged. Bryce took it upon himself to grab my phone. He keyed in my four-digit password and read the message. I didn’t mind that he went through my phone. I had nothing to hide. But on some level, it did bother me. He was throwing insurance papers in front of me and now he was reading my messages—messages I had been trying to avoid.