“Not as good as murder, but not bad,” Chloe decided.“Was it a messy divorce?”
“Oh, yeah.Does the name Dr.Dean Carmichael ring a bell?”
Eyes wide, Chloe let out a whistle.“The neurosurgeon who went to jail for beating his wife?”
“Actually, he went to jail for beating his mistress,” Bailey clarified.“That was after the divorce.Which I gather pissed him off enough he forgot to be careful.”
“How’d you get in the middle of that?”
“Jenna—that’s the wife—was one of my regulars.Every six weeks, cut and color.One day she came in with a metric fuck-ton of concealer that did not conceal a black eye.”
“Well, fuck.”
“Yeah.I knew something was up,” Bailey continued.“She never talked about him.With most clients, they get in the chair and tell you their life story.And she talked plenty, about her charity work, her sisters, her dogs.Nothing about him.”
Bailey paused to take a breath.“But that day, I don’t know why, it all comes pouring out.Long story short, he’s been abusing her their entire marriage, and she’s taken it because she didn’t see a way out.But the night before, he popped her one for something, some small thing, and it flipped a switch.She wants out.”
“Good for her,” Chloe murmured.
“Problem is, even though she’s got plenty of evidence of the abuse—plus the fact that he’s cheating on her with some intern at the hospital—she’s completely isolated.He tracks her every move, controls where she goes, who she talks to.Checks the bank account every night to make sure she doesn’t buy a stick of gum he doesn’t authorize.”
“Dick,” Chloe muttered.
“But now I know, and I’m not letting that shit slide.So we worked out a deal.I’d still do her hair, but when she paid me with the debit card I’d give it back to her in cash so she could save up for a lawyer.That way the dickhead could check the charges and not see anything off.”
“Nice,” Chloe said approvingly.
“They had a prenup, so she wasn’t thinking she’d get anything,” Bailey went on.“She just wanted out, you know?But it turns out, there was an infidelity clause.”
Chloe started to grin.“Was there, now?”
“Unfortunately for the asshole, it applied to both spouses.So Jenna got the dogs, the house, and a nice fat settlement, which includes a forty percent stake in this fine hotel.And the asshole is serving twenty-five to life for attempted murder on the mistress.”
Chloe sighed.“I love a happy ending.”
“Me too.She tried to write me a check.”
“And you wouldn’t let her,” Chloe guessed.
“I let her pay me back what I fronted her, that was fair.But getting paid for doing the right thing doesn’t sit right.”
No, it wouldn’t.Not for Bailey.
“I’d told her about our birthday tradition, one day when she was in my chair,” Bailey went on.“She remembered it, so when I turned down the money, she brought it up, offered the suite.And I figured, well, that’s a favor, and that’s different than payment.”
“A fine distinction, but an important one,” Chloe agreed and looked around the spacious room again.“I don’t know what the hell we’re going to do with all this space, though.”
“Enjoy it.”With a grin, Bailey crossed to the bar and plucked a bottle of champagne from a bucket.“See this label?”
Chloe did, and the bartender in her was doing the math.“I hope that’s complimentary.”
“All part of the package.”Bailey passed the bottle.“Open this.I’ll get the glasses.”
“Hey!How long is this stuff supposed to stay on?”
Bottle in hand, Chloe turned toward Gwen’s voice.“What’s she talking about?”
“The bleach on her hair.”Grabbing a trio of champagne flutes, Bailey shouted back, “Ten more minutes!”
