Chương 4
“Then neither of you gets to stand there and act morally superior.”
“I’m not,” Ashley said. “I’m saying it was wrong.”
“It was water.”
Nobody answered.
Madison looked around the room.
A stylist near the color station immediately pretended to rearrange brushes.
Madison lowered her voice further.
“I thought he was some guy hanging around outside.”
Ashley looked at her.
“And if he was?”
Madison opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Brooke rubbed at a raindrop on her handbag.
“Can we just go?”
“Yes,” Madison said.
“No,” Ashley said.
Both women looked at her.
Ashley swallowed.
“I think we should wait.”
“For what?”
“To apologize.”
Madison stared at her as if she had suggested sleeping on the sidewalk.
“You want me to apologize to him because he owns the building.”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you apologize before Evelyn said his name?”
Ashley’s face went pale.
Brooke closed her eyes.
Madison smiled with sudden satisfaction.
“That’s what I thought.”
Ashley’s answer came slowly.
“Because I was being a coward.”
The satisfaction left Madison’s face.
Brooke looked up.
Ashley rubbed one thumb over the gold clasp of her handbag.
“I didn’t know what to do, so I laughed because you laughed. That’s not better. I know that.”
Madison stared at her.
“Oh my God. Listen to you.”
Ashley looked toward Adrian’s closed office door.
“I am.”
Evelyn eventually moved Madison, Brooke, and Ashley into a private styling room at the rear of the salon.
She did not ask Adrian’s permission.
He liked that.
Twenty minutes after the incident, he was sitting near reception in the borrowed sweatshirt drinking coffee from a ceramic mug that said COLOR IS A SCIENCE.
His own wet shirt was sealed inside a plastic laundry bag.
Jenna had given him the coffee without asking whether he wanted it.
He did.
Outside, the rain had weakened.
Two people still lingered beneath the awning across the street.
One had a phone.
The other had a small dog in a yellow raincoat.
The dog seemed more interested in a discarded sandwich than in scandal.
Adrian watched it strain against its leash.
Evelyn sat beside him.
“I spoke to Madison.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Seems unpleasant.”
“It was.”
She crossed one ankle over the other.
“She wants to apologize.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“She wants to say words that sound like one.”
“That’s different.”
“She says this is being blown out of proportion.”
“It’s been twenty minutes.”
“She’s efficient.”
Adrian drank his coffee.
Evelyn looked at him.
“What are you going to do?”
“About Madison?”
“About the lease.”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because you bought the building six weeks ago and our renewal is in ninety days.”
“You know that.”
“I know exactly how many days.”
“Eighty-seven.”
She looked annoyed.
“I wasn’t asking for help.”
He smiled into the mug.
Evelyn leaned back.
“I have thirty-two employees.”
“I know.”
“Twenty-one full-time. Eleven part-time. Some are single mothers. One is paying for nursing school. Two are paying ridiculous rent to live with four roommates. Jenna supports her father.”
“I know how payroll works.”
“I’m not giving you a payroll lesson.”
“You’re asking me not to punish them for what Madison did.”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Evelyn’s shoulders lowered an inch.
Then stopped.
“What were you planning?”
“I came to talk about the renewal.”
“And the complaints.”
“And the complaints.”
“Were you going to renew us?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Your numbers are good. Rent is on time. Maintenance calls are normal. You’ve been here eleven years.”
“Twelve.”
“Lease says eleven.”
“We opened before the final paperwork.”
“That sounds like you.”
She looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“You look like someone who opens before final paperwork.”
For the first time that day, Evelyn laughed.
It was brief and tired.
Then she became serious again.
“You still haven’t answered.”
Adrian set the mug on the armrest tray he rarely used.
“I’m not terminating a lease because one customer behaved badly.”
“She’s more than a customer.”
“You said.”
“She funds events. She brings clients. She organized the district holiday fundraiser last year. Half the women in this neighborhood know her.”
“Do they like her?”
Evelyn considered that.
“They invite her.”
“Different question.”
“Yes.”
Adrian looked toward the private room.
“What does she do for a living?”
“Her husband’s family owns Reed Hospitality.”
“That’s not what she does.”
Evelyn almost smiled.
“She sits on three boards and organizes expensive things.”
“That sounds exhausting too.”
“You’re joking now?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t, I’ll start thinking about my shirt.”
“What about it?”
“I really liked that shirt.”
Evelyn stared at him, then shook her head.
The salon door opened.
A man in a navy raincoat stepped inside, carrying a folded umbrella and the expression of someone who had come because somebody else had made his afternoon difficult.
Evelyn stood.
“Daniel.”
Adrian recognized him.
Daniel Pike was the property manager for the building, forty-seven, perpetually tired, and incapable of owning shoes that did not squeak.
His shoes squeaked now.
He saw Adrian.
Stopped.
Looked at the wet wheelchair.
Looked at Evelyn.
“Oh.”
Adrian picked up his coffee.
“Good afternoon.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
“What happened?”
“A weather event.”
Evelyn said, “Madison Reed poured a cup of water over him.”
Daniel took off his glasses.
“Who?”
“Madison Reed.”
Daniel looked at Adrian again.
“Why?”
“Apparently I was reducing property values.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’m aware.”
Daniel took a handkerchief from his pocket and began cleaning glasses that were already clean.
“Is there video?”
“Yes,” Evelyn said.
Adrian said, “Probably several.”
Daniel put his glasses back on.
“Has anyone posted it?”
“Not the direct clip,” Evelyn said. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“One stylist posted a vague story.”
“What kind of vague story?”
Evelyn took out her phone.
Daniel read over her shoulder.
His eyebrows climbed.
“What does ‘some people only respect money when they find out who has it’ mean?”
“Apparently exactly what it says,” Adrian replied.
Daniel rubbed his mouth.
“We need counsel.”
May you like
“No,” Adrian said.
Daniel stared at him.
