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In any case, when I looked up to find Nubia holding out a big glass of wine, a smile spread across my face.
“Oh God, thank you,” I told her, accepting the glass as she laughed.
“You’re more than welcome, Mon. Talk to me. How are you feeling?” she asked, rubbing my back for a few seconds as she sat down beside me. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”
I took a large gulp of the wine, swallowing before I answered. “I feel… about like you’d expect. And I have about a billion things left to do before this funeral on Friday.”
“Okay, like what? Anything you can hand off to me, or someone else?”
“Unfortunately not,” I told her, then took another drink. “Thank you for offering, but I’ll be okay as long as I follow my to-do list. I’ve gotta get out of here in the next ten minutes to make my hair appointment though. Thank God that was already set before everything went wrong.”
I turned to look at her just in time to see the slight curl in her lip as she surveyed my head. “Yeah, thank God. Cause your weave is looking a little busted right now.”
“Oh kiss my ass,” I laughed, and she joined in. If nothing else, I knew I could count on Nubia to break up the darkness with light moments of humor.
Just then, a knock sounded at the hotel room door, and Nubia quickly motioned for me to keep my seat.
“It’s probably just Blake. I’ve gotta pick up Trey from the sitter, so she’s gonna drive you to that appointment.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can drive just fine, dammit.”
“Girl, don’t nobody care what you’re talking about. We’re your friends, and we’re gonna be there for you all the way through this, whether you like the shit or not. Don’t argue,” she called over her shoulder as she went to the door. And sure enough, a few seconds later, Blake was walking toward me, with her arms stretched out.
“How are you feeling today sweetie?” she asked, bending to pull me into a hug without me having to rise from my seat. “Wait, don’t answer that. I’m sure I already know.”
I nodded. “Yeah, probably.”
“Well,” Blake sighed. “How much you wanna bet that a good scalp massage and a fresh weave will make it all feel a little better.”
“That is a bet I will definitely take you up on,” I said, rising from my spot on the couch.
I’d managed to drag myself to the bathroom for my personal care that morning, so all I needed to do was grab my keys and purse to head out the door.
“Thank you for sitting with me this morning,” I told Nubia, hugging her as we headed out. “Next time you come by, bring the baby with you. I could use a Trey hug and a few of his little toddler kisses.”
“Consider it handled, love.”
She headed out, with me and Blake right behind her, going separate ways once we made it to the private parking garage. Instead of grilling me about everything that had been happening, or letting the car descend into silence, she treated me to a constant stream of conversation about everything else.
I was grateful for it.
Because, lately, when left to my quiet thoughts, things were getting darker and darker for me. The run-in with Wick two days ago certainly hadn’t helped things – now I felt evenmorelost. If that were even possible.
The trip to the salon felt shorter than usual, probably because of Blake’s chatter. I glanced around to make sure the parking lot and entrance were free of the journalistic vultures I’d been dealing with more and more since Kellen’s death before I opened my door and climbed out.
A day at the salon always felt like a treat to me. My stylist, Tika, always had good stories to tell, the salon supplied wine and champagne, and they’d been a huge supporter ofVivid Vixencosmetics since early on – they had a whole polish display just for my brand. Walking through their door, into that warm, upscale salon energy always made me smile.
Only today… it was different.
A hush fell over the whole salon as soon as Blake and I walked in, and open conversation turned into whispers. Of course, this was something I should have expected after my face had been all over the news, my name dragged through the mud without any evidence. I wanted to leave, but the funeral was in a few days, and Nubia was right – I was looking busted. So instead of shrinking in response to the negative energy, I walked right to the reception desk to give my name.
“Monica Stuart. I have a one o’clock with Tika.”
The girl at the desk gave me a strange look, then turned her eyes to her screen, clicking around a little before she tentatively met my gaze.
“I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Stuart. I don’t have it on file. It must’ve been canceled.”
I frowned. “What? No, that has to be a mistake. I didn’t cancel my appointment.”
