lawyer comes back in, expressionless, but tension rolling off him like the stench of perm fumes. Can things get any better?
The grit of eraser under my arms reminds me, I have something to do. No matter how selfish I want to be, I have to do the right thing. They need to distance themselves from me, and I know they won’t do it on their own. That also means talking to Dara when she wakes up and telling her. She should also probably find a new place to live.
With Jacobs on the phone again, I gather my courage and stand up.
“Guys, I need you to come here a moment, I have something to tell you.”
They glance at one another as they walk over. Nyssa’s perfect little brow furrows and Rey shrugs.
Taking a deep breath I spit it out, “You’re fired.”
“Excuse me?” Nyssa suddenly goes ghetto on me, head bob and all.
Rey’s laughter just makes me want to I yell, psych, then join in.
“Okay, that went well.”
“You can’t fire us.” Nyssa pushes her four–foot–something frame up into my face. I fight the urge to take a step back.
“The name of the place is Fey Creations and I’m Fey...so um...yeah, I can.”
“Well, I’m not going.” Rey continues to chuckle as he moves off to his station and lounges in the chair. “You can say whatever you want, but I don’t think any of us will leave. We’ve got it too good here.”
“Good?” I try to keep my voice at a normal level, but fail. “You have no appointments on the books. I barely have enough in savings to pay my bills; I can’t afford to pay Nys, or Jenny. Do you want to tell me how you plan on supporting yourselves?”
Climbing into my chair, I bury my face in my hands. Argument I expected, but not flat out refusal, or laughter.
“Darlin’, this is the best salon I’ve ever worked in and we all connect like...well, like family. I’m not leaving and you can bet the others feel the same.”
“Rey, if you guys don’t distance yourselves from me and this cluster fuck I’ve got going on you’ll be finished. I don’t want to sound like a mob boss, but you’ll never work in this town again.”
More laughter, this time softer, like a big brother indulging his baby sister. “Those old biddies chasing youth and the groupies will be back before you know it. Trust me, I’ve been in worse situations and this will blow over quicker than you think.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head.
Nyssa stands between us clutching the framed review. “I’m with him, I’m not leaving either. You need us.”
“I could take your keys.”
“Try it,” they both say.
“I could change the locks.”
“You can’t afford it,” says Rey with a giant grin.
Nyssa giggles as she hugs me. “We’re not going, so get used to it.”
“Okay, okay, I give.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jacobs sits at the break room table, leaning heavily on his arms, the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. The earpiece from his cell phone lays abandoned to one side of the table and the phone teeters on the edge of the other. One small jostle of the table and it will crash to the floor. This can’t be good.
“Miss Fey, Keely. May I call you Keely?”
“Sure.” I take the seat across from him, reminiscent of my earlier experience, without the fear of torture.
“Here is the essence of our situation. We have a serious problem. Even though you weren’t charged, the press and others are under the impression you either are, or are in league with, The Collector. After the earlier display, I anticipate more retaliation. The local authorities have all, but outright denied my request for protection and the NTF is unresponsive.”
The set of his jaw and frustration in his eyes is a clear indication he doesn’t trust them and I probably shouldn’t either. Nor did I trust the local authorities.
Sheriff Bogner, or as he prefers—major emphasis on prefers—Sheriff Frank, conjures up childhood memories of Porky’s and The Dukes of
The grit of eraser under my arms reminds me, I have something to do. No matter how selfish I want to be, I have to do the right thing. They need to distance themselves from me, and I know they won’t do it on their own. That also means talking to Dara when she wakes up and telling her. She should also probably find a new place to live.
With Jacobs on the phone again, I gather my courage and stand up.
“Guys, I need you to come here a moment, I have something to tell you.”
They glance at one another as they walk over. Nyssa’s perfect little brow furrows and Rey shrugs.
Taking a deep breath I spit it out, “You’re fired.”
“Excuse me?” Nyssa suddenly goes ghetto on me, head bob and all.
Rey’s laughter just makes me want to I yell, psych, then join in.
“Okay, that went well.”
“You can’t fire us.” Nyssa pushes her four–foot–something frame up into my face. I fight the urge to take a step back.
“The name of the place is Fey Creations and I’m Fey...so um...yeah, I can.”
“Well, I’m not going.” Rey continues to chuckle as he moves off to his station and lounges in the chair. “You can say whatever you want, but I don’t think any of us will leave. We’ve got it too good here.”
“Good?” I try to keep my voice at a normal level, but fail. “You have no appointments on the books. I barely have enough in savings to pay my bills; I can’t afford to pay Nys, or Jenny. Do you want to tell me how you plan on supporting yourselves?”
Climbing into my chair, I bury my face in my hands. Argument I expected, but not flat out refusal, or laughter.
“Darlin’, this is the best salon I’ve ever worked in and we all connect like...well, like family. I’m not leaving and you can bet the others feel the same.”
“Rey, if you guys don’t distance yourselves from me and this cluster fuck I’ve got going on you’ll be finished. I don’t want to sound like a mob boss, but you’ll never work in this town again.”
More laughter, this time softer, like a big brother indulging his baby sister. “Those old biddies chasing youth and the groupies will be back before you know it. Trust me, I’ve been in worse situations and this will blow over quicker than you think.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head.
Nyssa stands between us clutching the framed review. “I’m with him, I’m not leaving either. You need us.”
“I could take your keys.”
“Try it,” they both say.
“I could change the locks.”
“You can’t afford it,” says Rey with a giant grin.
Nyssa giggles as she hugs me. “We’re not going, so get used to it.”
“Okay, okay, I give.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jacobs sits at the break room table, leaning heavily on his arms, the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. The earpiece from his cell phone lays abandoned to one side of the table and the phone teeters on the edge of the other. One small jostle of the table and it will crash to the floor. This can’t be good.
“Miss Fey, Keely. May I call you Keely?”
“Sure.” I take the seat across from him, reminiscent of my earlier experience, without the fear of torture.
“Here is the essence of our situation. We have a serious problem. Even though you weren’t charged, the press and others are under the impression you either are, or are in league with, The Collector. After the earlier display, I anticipate more retaliation. The local authorities have all, but outright denied my request for protection and the NTF is unresponsive.”
The set of his jaw and frustration in his eyes is a clear indication he doesn’t trust them and I probably shouldn’t either. Nor did I trust the local authorities.
Sheriff Bogner, or as he prefers—major emphasis on prefers—Sheriff Frank, conjures up childhood memories of Porky’s and The Dukes of
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