Bad Hair 8 - Day Perish By Pedicure Read Online Free PDF Page B

up and down as she chewed a wad of gum. “It’s so great that you’re getting involved with the company.”
    “I hope I live up to everyone’s expectations.”
    “Oh, you’ll do fine. Then you can think about joining us at other exhibits.” Amy Jeanne wore a royal blue shift dress, the pearls around her neck contrasting with the warm brown of her skin. As she spoke, she examined a fingertip as though searching for nicks in her nail polish. Miguel pulled out his iPod and busied himself with the controls.
    “Do most of the same people show up at each event?” Marla asked.
    “Depends on location and time of year.” Amy Jeanne spit her gum into a cocktail napkin and rolled it into a ball. “A show’s success depends upon the stage artists. Your role is crucial to their performance.”
    “So who’s really in charge, Sampson or Chris?”
    Miguel, who’d been swaying his hips to music no one else could hear, gave a snort. “Both of them, from their viewpoints.” He’d dressed casually in a navy Cubavera shirt with white pants.
    “A word of caution, girlfriend.” Amy Jeanne twiddled the silver angel pendant she wore. “Steer clear from getting involved in anyone’s personal problems. If Chris comes across as cruel in her remarks, let it go. You don’t want to mess with her. Keep in mind that the company’s reputation rests on Sampson’s shoulders.”
    “So, for suck-up value, he’s the one I need to address?”
    Miguel stroked his bald head. “Flattery will get you everywhere with Sampson, querida . Chris is the one who won’t bend in a stiff wind. Ask her for a favor, and she’ll stab you in the back. Isn’t that right, Amy Jeanne?”
    The girl’s eyes flashed. “You got it, bro.”
    They wandered off, and Marla sought her friend for solace. She supposed any company had their conflicts, and she really didn’t want to get involved in personnel strife. If she could just do a good job to benefit her salon, that was all that mattered. Political jostling held no interest for her.
    “Hi, Georgia, are you getting tired yet? You’ve had a long day,” Marla said, considerate of her friend’s needs.
    Georgia lifted a penciled brow. “I’m fine. How about you?”
    “I’ve met a lot of interesting people.” Marla wasn’t shy about introducing herself to strangers, especially people who were exchanging industry news and gossip about who was doing what in her own field. Everyone seemed charged about the show and was eager to talk. Always the promoter, Marla had brought a supply of business cards and already had collected new ones to add to her files. She was thinking she should have brought a larger purse, because her small evening bag bulged ominously.
    Glancing at her watch, she noted it was nearly ten o’clock. If they stayed later, maybe Pam’s parents would be sleeping by the time they got home. She’d be putting off the inevitable, but she could face them with more fortitude in the morning.
    “Ron hit on me, asking me to come upstairs and check out his curling iron,” she added.
    “It won’t be the first time.” Georgia chuckled. “You’ll get used to these guys. Overall, I think they’re a good bunch.”
    “Amy Jeanne and Miguel are pretty much sticking together. Are they an item?”
    Georgia’s glance spot-checked the room. “No way. Amy’s kinda quiet, and I think she likes hanging with Miguel because he’s so attached to his earphones. He has some beef against Chris that has to do with his brother.”
    Chris sauntered over as though she’d heard her name mentioned. Along the way, she linked arms with Tyler and dragged him close. A momentary frown crossed his face, but then he smiled blandly. Chris held another glass of red wine. Someone was keeping her well supplied tonight, Marla thought. The director’s steps seemed a bit wobbly. Perhaps that was why she clung so tightly to Tyler.
    “The party’s breaking up,” Chris said after a desultory conversation. “Let’s go