Free Bad Hair 8 - Day Perish By Pedicure by Nancy J. Cohen

by Sampson’s side, looking bored.
    What am I supposed to do when Ron gets here, hand him his styling combs ? Marla wondered. Is that all my role requires ?
    “How’s it going, guys?” She waved to her staff members. Other than Nicole, whom she’d left in charge, the rest of her crew seemed oblivious to the commotion. Not surprising, considering some of the other interruptions they’d experienced in the past, thanks to Marla’s sleuthing.
    Jan intercepted her. “Did you find Ron? We’re on a time schedule, you know.” The redhead tapped her watch.
    “He wanted to start the other model in his room. He’ll be along shortly.”
    Jan must have heard something in her voice, because she snorted. “Don’t count on it.”
    “I can do one of the girls in the meantime,” Marla offered.
    “Not yet. Let’s review the setup for our photo shoot.” She signaled for Marla to follow her to the reception area.
    As Marla passed the front desk, Luis grinned. She imagined the handsome Hispanic enjoyed having the models close by. One of them had evidently gotten tired of sitting around. The tall raven-haired beauty flipped through a magazine on his counter, sneaking glances at his dark eyes and trim beard. Wait until Ron arrives, pal. You’ll have competition.
    Her attention turned to Georgia, who’d removed an entire display case worth of goods. The sales rep had placed Luxor products on the shelves instead and was now occupied in arranging them in a certain order.
    “Can I help you with those?” Marla asked, scurrying over.
    She didn’t want to incur the disfavor of her other accounts.
    “Listen, hon, you’re representing Luxor now. We have to show off our merchandise to its best advantage.” Georgia had tied a bandanna around her head to keep her curly black hair off her face. Her eyes sparkled as she put a sign in front of a promotional videotape for sale. “We have a unique straightening process that Sampson will be applying next if you want to watch. He’s certified to perform thermal hair reconditioning. Customers can buy this video if they want to see how it works.”
    “Wonderful, but perhaps we should replace this stock—”
    “Marla, let’s not quibble over minor stuff. Georgia is one of our top sales reps,” Jan chided. “Look, this is a good spot for the photographer. He can place the backdrop screen over there, and the lights will go in these two spots. Do you have any potted plants to soften the scene?”
    “Sure,” Marla mumbled, feeling as though a steamroller had overtaken her salon. Better to go with the flow, and fix things later.
    She didn’t realize how much time passed while shuffling around following Jan’s orders, assisting Ron, who sauntered in the door two hours late, and fitting in one of her own clients with a rush job. Jan was haranguing everyone to finish and get back to the hotel when Detective Dalton Vail strode through the door with his daughter and her grandparents in tow.
    “Marla,” he cried, his craggy face breaking into a smile, “I just stopped by to show Justine and Larry your place, but I didn’t expect to see you here. How about joining us for dinner?”
    Marla glanced at a wall clock. It was past five already? “I’m afraid not. The show opens tomorrow morning at nine. We need to make sure the exhibit is ready as well as the models.” She swept her hand to indicate the preening girls, adjusting their costumes in front of the mirror.
    Justine’s eyes widened as she took in Ron’s outfit, a khaki shirt open to the waist and hip-hugging leather pants. But that was nothing compared to the shimmering sequined tops and miniskirts on the models.
    “Dear heavens, Marla, is this the norm for your clients?” the older woman exclaimed, staring at the rainbow of hair colors the models displayed. One girl sported shades of red alternating with plum. It made her nose ring stand out.
    “Not really,” Marla replied, her cheeks warming. “It’s purely for razzle-dazzle