Holly’s already inside with Lucinda, who’s pointing toward a storage cabinet near the shampoo chairs. Lucinda is a compact woman in her fifties, with silver-streaked dark hair pulled back tightly and the kind of posture that suggests she has been managing environments like this for decades.
“You want the dye refills close to the sinks—saves your back. And keep the acetone out of sight of any client. Nothing says ‘spa-like’ less than chemical labels,” Lucinda says.
I slip past and pour myself a cup of plain drip coffee in the break room. Mandy’s request for a fancy espresso machine was denied by Holly, even if it would help with the “vibes.” I take a slow sip, steadying myself for what’s ahead.
My phone buzzes, and I instantly smile when I see that it’s Becca. I swipe it open immediately.
Becca
Forwarded message
Rick’s text sits there between us now. No commentary or explanation. For a second, I just stare at it. A month ago, she wouldn’t have sent this. Becca would’ve handled it herself, shut it down, and carried it alone.
My chest tightens from what this means. She’s letting me in.
I re-read the forwarded message, focusing on the content, where he says he is complicating things on my side. The locks were changed after I confronted him, and the cameras were installed. For good measure, Dad drafteda termination letter we sent to his lawyers. It officially severs Rick’s role as an advisor, or whatever he was, and includes a clause to cease any future contact regarding the business.
What could he be complicating?
I don’t have time to delve too far into that thought. Lucinda and Holly walk over to me as Mandy strolls in, twenty minutes late. She's in a dress that looks like it costs more than the espresso machine she wanted. The scent that reaches me first is Chanel No. 5 and something sharper underneath; something that makes me think her morning started earlier than most. She pauses when she sees Lucinda, cocking her head.
“Oh, you must be with the cleaning staff,” Mandy says brightly. “Nice to meet you. There’s still a lot of dust around. Maybe you could start with that instead of drinking our coffee?”
Holly gasps while my jaw drops in disbelief. Clearly, if someone had two working brain cells, they would see that Lucinda is not with the cleaning staff. Holly jumps in to defend her, but Lucinda is faster.
“I’m not with the cleaning company. And we won’t have one until we start turning a profit. It will be every member of the staff’s job to maintain their station.”
Mandy looks momentarily stunned at this statement. Before she can insert her foot into her mouth anymore, Holly jumps in.
“Mandy, this is Lucinda Torres. She was the excellent guest speaker I mentioned to you while I was going through school.”
Mandy’s eyes widen slowly, but she attempts to recover. “Apologies, Lucinda. We are just so busy getting this salon set up, I can’t keep track of all the moving parts.” Mandyreaches out her hand, and Lucinda takes it. “Mandy Stevens, Head of Guest Experience and First Impressions.”
What the hell?That has to be a made-up title. I lock eyes with Holly, and she looks just as bewildered as I do.
Holly leans in, whispering to me, “I have no idea where she got that title, or what it even means.”
I bite back a laugh and look over at Lucinda. Before she can respond to Mandy’s absurdity, Holly straightens her spine and tackles the conversation head-on.
“Mandy, Lucinda has over twenty years of experience in the industry and has been a part of multiple salon openings. She has agreed to come on as Principal Stylist … and partner.”
Mandy looks at Holly, confusion evident on her face.
“Don’t you think we have enough partners? Between you, me, Rick, and Sam’s involvement, how much do we have to throw around?” She laughs uncomfortably. “No offense, of course.” Mandy throws out to Lucinda as an afterthought. Lucinda doesn’t even bother to give her a response.
“Actually, Rick will no longer be involved.” I decide to jump in at this point, giving Holly a small reprieve. “We were looking through the contract closely, and we found some anomalies.”
“Like what?” Mandy asks, face unreadable.
“Multiple conflicts of interest,” I respond, not giving her any details. “We have since ended our business relationship with him.”
Something passes across Mandy’s face that I can’t quite read, but it’s quickly gone with a sugary smile.
“Okay, I understand, it is best kept between us anyway, your favorite girls … and Lucinda, of course.” Mandy preens, looking around for support.
My jaw tightens as those words hit the air. Words I’d once said without thinking and have regretted ever since.
“Let’s be clear,” I enunciate, voice low but firm. “The only woman who has ever held that place in my life is my wife. Period. That ‘favorite girls’ shit? I wish I’d never said it. Becca is my priority. Always was. Always will be.”
