With the carefully-planted seeds of promo-disaster in her mind, Chrissy shot off to find the salon owner. Nina had been Annie’s stylist for years. She remembered me, too, when she came out, her face frozen in a worried smile.
“Miller! Great to see you. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like a word, if you have time?”
The smile got even tighter. “Come with me.”
She led me into a back room, shooed away two staff members who were taking a break, then set about making me a coffee on their fancy machine. I hadn’t dropped by the salon for years, but Nina still remembered how I took it—but then, I took it the way Annie did, so maybe it didn’t takethatmuch brainpower. One sugar substitute; one splash of low-fat creamer.
“I’m glad you came by,” Nina continued while she stirred it all together and nodded at me to take a seat. “I’ve been worried about Annie.”
“You have?”
“I was surprised that she’d canceled all her regular appointments, but I figured she was going away for a while. But then she went quiet on all her socials.” She set the coffee down in front of me and put a hand on my shoulder as she came around the table to sit opposite. “I want you to know,Ihaven’t spoken to anyone about her. All those stories—” She shook her head in frustration as an uneasy feeling rose up in my chest.
What stories?
But Nina was still talking. “I also reminded everyone who works here about their nondisclosure agreements.” She reached over to clutch my hand. “It’s important to me that you believe me.”
It was important to her that Annie came back to the salon. That was my first, uncharitable thought. “I’m sure the gossip sites are just making shit up,” I reassured her, patting at her hand with my other one. For a ridiculous moment it felt like we were playing a game of slaps, and I was relieved when she took her hands away.
“I mean, Ididtalk to Roxy when she came in a few days ago,” Nina said, her eyes darting away from mine. “But I thought that would be okay. She was concerned, and she loves Annie as much as we do.” Roxanne Rochford had come in asking about Annie?
I infused my voice with a warmth I didn’t feel. “God, I haven’t seen Roxy for ages. She’s so busy these days. Did she say why she was concerned?”
Nina frowned, trying to remember, then shook her head. “She was asking when I’d last seen Annie. And then she booked in for a deep conditioning and talked a bit about how much she hates her new character arc on the show.”
Great. Roxy sounded like a useless avenue of investigation. “How about you?” I prompted. “When was the last timeyousaw Annie?”
“She was here about two weeks ago. She talked about making a change to her color, and it surprised me, you know?” I said nothing, because Ididn’tknow, and Nina, thankfully, rushed in to fill the silence before it became awkward. “She was like, ‘I think I might do something radical and goblonde.’ Can you imagine? I mean, girl has been rocking that cayenne pepper for a long time, and she was rose gold there for a bit, and pumpkin spice for the Fall season a few years back—but she’s always stuck with red. Still, between you and me,” Nina said, lowering her voice and glancing over her shoulder, as though there was anyone to overhear, “I think it’d do wonders for her career. A change like that might make the industry take notice again.”
“Again?” I asked slowly. “I mean, I know she’d backed off from TV because of the hours, but—”
“Oh, she’s a total star, ofcourse,” Nina said quickly, eyes going wide. “Only, you know…” She leaned in and whispered, “The offershavedropped off a little.”
All I ever heard from Annie at our godawful family dinners was how she had to beat back famous directors from her door. According toher, she could pick and choose her roles.
Nina spoke again, breaking into my thoughts. “She’s…not thinking of going somewhere else for the blonde, is she?”
“Of course not.” I rose to leave. “Let me know if you remember anything else. Like if she mentioned going to Peru to find herself or something.” I smiled and Nina smiled back, but the joke fell flat.
I checked my phone as soon as I got out of the salon. I brought up the usual sites and got my phone to read me a few headlines as I made my way back to the car. There were stories running now about Annie’s alleged disappearance, complete with quotes from sources cited as “close personal friends.”
Yeah, right.
So what had I learned? That Annie was maybe dumping her hair stylist, and that she wasn’t quite as successful these days as she desperately wanted me—or, more probably, our father—to think. I came away from High Society Hair feelingmoreworried than I had going in, but at least I had another lead for Jack.
Thinking of him helped me calm my thoughts a little. I’d head over there right now, I decided, and give him this “intel” that I’d gathered.
Maybe he’d kiss me for being so clever.
* * *
Jack was definitely not going to kiss me for being so clever.
“…so I figured I should come over as soon as I could and, uh…tell you…what I found out.” I was sitting at Jack’s shitty table an hour later, spilling all the tea I could, and he’d said nothing since I started.
His face, which was getting more familiar to me, usually bore a sarcastic half-smile that meant I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But there was no mistaking the thundercloud-black expression that gathered while I told him everything I’d learned at the salon. I cringed when he began to speak.
