One of Us Is Dead

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” she said flippantly.

“Well, you two are friends,” I said a little louder to speak over the sound of the water and because I was also shocked to hear Olivia hadn’t checked up on Shannon after everything she had been through.

“Correction: were friends. I have to distance myself from that. Shannon is a sinking ship in this town. Sure, she has alimony, but Bryce has all the influence and power.”

My eyes grew wide as I processed what she had said. Olivia and Shannon had been close, and to learn they weren’t any longer because her husband left her was a shock. At that moment, I knew something wasn’t right. The balance in the group wasn’t the same. It was like when all the wind stops and the sky turns bright, right before the storm explodes.

I hadn’t seen Shannon this month yet, and she was close to getting terminated as a client. She had seven days to come in for eight treatments, and I had intended to give her a little wiggle room, but it was clear Olivia wanted her out. I made a mental note to call Shannon that afternoon to remind her.

“That’s a shame to hear. I feel bad for her,” I said.

“Don’t! Shannon was never that nice a person anyway. She was awful to me, and I had to practically force her to become a client of yours. She thought this place was beneath her . . .” Olivia twisted up her nose.

A slight frown spread across my face as I patted Olivia’s hair dry with a towel.

“Oh. Don’t let it bother you too much. Shannon’s just a bitch every day.” Olivia waved her hand dismissively.

“I’m not bothered by it. She’s been through a lot.” I walked Olivia back to the hair station.

“Well, she’s a has-been, and it won’t look good for business to have her here. She’s just a reminder of how far the mighty can fall. It’s sad, really.” Olivia pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her thousands of selfies while I blow-dried her hair.

I had loyalty to all my clients, even the worst of them. I never minded listening to the drama between the women. I understood that people needed to vent and not everyone got along all the time, but I never wanted to be pulled into the middle of it. I’d listen, but I refused to participate. However, that’s the thing about drama: participation isn’t always required.

Olivia typed up a text to a group named Buckhead Women’s Foundation. I read the words as her bony fingers pecked at the keys. Things were about to get bad.

The front door chimed just as I finished fluffing Olivia’s hair with my fingers. It was perfect. The volume and shine made it look like she just walked out of a shampoo commercial.

“Go on back,” Mary, the salon’s receptionist, said from the front.

Olivia stood up and admired herself once more in the mirror, puckering her lips and ensuring every strand of hair was in place.

Karen Richardson emerged from behind the curtains. She had a shoulder-length bob of red hair that looked like the glowing warmth of fresh coals on the bottom of a campfire. She was a loyal client, a luxury real estate lawyer, and a close friend of Olivia’s—well, as close as one can get in Buckhead. She was thin and wispy, without an ounce of fat on her. With her concave cheeks, flat wide jaw, and large toothy smile, she looked more like a runway model than a mother or a Realtor.

Karen directed her attention to Olivia. “Did you just call an emergency committee meeting?”

Olivia turned and faced Karen, her hair whooshing over her shoulder dramatically. “Yes. Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

“And why is it at the café instead of here?”

“I figured it’d be easier since we’re meeting Bryce’s midlife crisis afterward for lunch.” Olivia gave a small smile.

Karen sighed and hesitated for a moment like she was trying to read Olivia.

“What’s the meeting about?” she said, putting a hand on her hip.

“You’ll find out when you arrive.”

Olivia turned toward me. “Thanks so much, Jenny. You’re the best!” She planted two light kisses on either side of my face, grabbed her bag from the floor, handed me a one-hundred-dollar bill as a tip, and walked out glowing, my specialty.

“She’s too much sometimes.” Karen shook her head and watched Olivia strut out of the salon.

“But not all the time,” I said with a smile. Peacekeeping was also a part of my job, and it seemed one of my biggest responsibilities going forward.

“Shall we?” I gestured with my hand toward the back, and we walked to the spray tan room.

Karen stripped down naked quickly. There was no awkwardness as I had spray-tanned her over a hundred times before and by now it was all routine. I knew her body better than I knew my own. Every freckle. Every scar.

“Big day for you. Emergency committee meeting and lunch with the ladies.”

“God. Don’t remind me.” Karen let out a huff of annoyance.

I grinned.

Karen smiled as I continued to spray her milky white skin a light bronze color. “I’m not sure what Olivia is up to, but I’m sure it’s no good. And you’ve heard about Crystal, right?”

I nodded.

“I haven’t met her in person yet. But I feel like I’m betraying Shannon by being welcoming to her.”

“Have you talked to Shannon about it?”

“Yes, but not about Crystal. Shannon’s been a mess, and I didn’t even mention that I was getting lunch with her and Olivia.” Karen turned to the side just as I finished spraying the front of her.

“Maybe you should talk to her about it. Shannon, that is.”

“I should, but if she has an issue with it, there’s not a lot I can do.” Karen turned and I sprayed her back. “I have a business that I have to run, and I run it professionally. You understand that?”

I nodded because I understood better than anyone. Karen wasn’t like the other wives. She had a young son, and she didn’t depend on her husband for money. Although, as a plastic surgeon, he brought in plenty. But Karen had built a real estate empire from the ground up, and she’d become so successful that she had an entire team behind her, so all she had to do was sweep in and close the deals.

“And then obviously, we have to welcome Crystal into our circle, since she’s married to Bryce, and in this town it’s all about who you know, what you wear, how you look, and how much money and power you have.” Karen sighed.

“You don’t have to remind me.” I laughed.

“Oh stop.” She patted my shoulder. “You are the ‘it girl’ of this town.”

“Just no one knows it,” I gave a crooked smile and handed her a towel.

“Oh, honey, but they will.”





3

Olivia


“Perfect. Everyone is here.” I glanced at each of the women sitting around a table in a private room of a nice café. A large smile was plastered across my face. I couldn’t help it. I had waited years for this. We were the board of the Buckhead Women’s Foundation. We were the elite because we planned the hottest events for some charity or other. Everyone wanted to be us.

Karen raised an eyebrow at me. “Shannon isn’t here.”

“That’s right. Because this is about her,” I said, lifting my chin.

Sophie, the secretary, sat to the left of me, writing down everything I said like I was Shakespeare himself. She was a nice person to have in line behind me, but she’d never be a part of my inner circle. Sure, Sophie was wealthy, but aside from that, the only thing she had to offer was note-taking. Plus, she was as bland as a box of unsalted saltine crackers. Her appearance matched her personality . . . boring.

Tina, the treasurer, flipped through her ledger. Each flip of the page blew a whiff of that musky, disgusting perfume she always wore. Even though she was rich, she smelled poor. If Tina weren’t so hard to look at, we’d certainly be close. But she had started her plastic surgery journey before it was perfected and with a surgeon that was less than skilled. As a result, it looked as though her skin would slide right off her face into her lap. My eyes could only take so much.

“Tina, your skin is glowing,” I complimented. “I can barely notice the lack of elasticity today.”

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