Campari Crimson

by Traci Andrighetti

  She had me there. "Give it a little more time, Lucy. I have some ideas to bring in more business."

  "Really?" Her eyes widened. "Like what?"

  "For starters, The Clip and Sip now serves alcohol." I handed each of them a copy of the new drink menu. "Every customer gets either a free glass of wine or one of my homemade liqueurs."

  Lucy's face brightened. "This is awesome. It'll feel more like a spa experience."

  Gia took a sip of soda as she perused the drink list. "And a little Texas moonshine might help to alleviate the bitter taste in people's mouths about the building's past."

  I shot her a look. "Peach liqueur hardly qualifies as moonshine. Anyway, Gia, you'll also offer a complimentary manicure to our customers."

  She dropped the menu. "How will I get paid?"

  "I'll have to cover your commission during the promotion." I couldn't afford it, but it was the least I could do. Even though my aunt Carla had married Gia's father, Frank, ten years before when we were both sixteen, my Uncle Vinnie hadn't left Gia so much as a mention in his will. Apparently, he hadn't been as into family as my dad, Domenic. But now that I thought about it, ever since my dad had divorced my mom last year and moved back to his native New Jersey, he didn't seem too interested in family, either, because I'd hardly heard from him since.

  Gia patted me on the back. "Thanks, Cass."

  "Also," I began, "since we're so close to Seattle, we're going to offer coffee drinks. I bought a professional-grade espresso machine by Nuova Simonelli."

  "Those are like twelve grand!" Gia exclaimed. "I knew your Uncle Vinnie was loaded."

  "He wasn't. I bought the machine on credit." My stomach turned as I admitted that last part. "Anyway, I'm glad you're excited about the machine, because you're going to make the drinks."

  "I'm going to make cawffee too?" she squawked, her New Jersey accent rearing its colorful head. "Why do all of your new promotions involve me?"

  "Because you have skills that Lucy and I don't," I replied. "Plus, your makeup services haven't exactly taken off."

  Her eyes narrowed. "It's not my fault that the nature-loving ladies of Danger Cove don't appreciate the smoky eye."

  The smoky eye was the unofficial state look of New Jersey. But the combination of purple, blue, and even green eye shadow with smudged eyeliner would be more appropriately named "the sickly eye." "No, but it is your fault that you don't apply makeup that's suited to the client."

  "But the whole point of makeup is to look made up, not"—she wrinkled her mouth—"natural."

  "The whole point is to make the client happy," I snapped. "Now, starting today, we're running an ad about our new services in the Cove Chronicles. In the meantime, I need the two of you to spread the word, especially you, Lucy. Tell all of your girlfriends and their moms."

  She nodded. "I'm sorry to bring this up, but…"

  Gia exhaled loudly. "For crying out loud—just spit it out."

  "Is there any update on getting the ceiling fixed?"

  Gia and I exchanged a look.

  "I know it's a sensitive subject," Lucy continued, "and I wouldn't normally bring it up, but it's starting to sag. And since it's right above my chair…"

  I shifted in my seat. "Well, I'll have to get police permission for a plumber to go into Uncle Vinnie's room. I can stop by the station today."

  "Thanks, Cassidi."

  An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

  Gia turned to me and cocked a well-plucked brow. "Is that it?"

  I looked at my meeting agenda. "That's all I have."

  "No, I mean, is that all you have planned to bring in new clients? Because, if you ask me, we need something bigger."

  Of course, I hadn't asked Gia, but I knew from experience that she was going to tell me exactly what she thought. "What do you have in mind?"

  "Egypt." Her face beamed brighter than her outfit.

  I blinked. "I'm not following you."

  Gia stood up and started to pace. "Think Cleopatra, the most regal and seductive queen of all time."

  "O-kay," I said.

  "We want to make women feel like her. You know, spread out all sexy on a gold chaise lounge."

  I was pretty sure that the chaise lounge was a modern French invention, but whatever.

  "So, picture this," Gia continued, motioning like a movie director. "We give the clients blowouts. But instead of the smoky eye, we do the Cleopatra eye. And the whole time they're in the chair, tanned bodybuilders are fanning them with those big feather-duster things and feeding them with their hands."

  I stared at Gia openmouthed, and Lucy went pale.

  "You do realize, don't you, that using sex to sell the salon is exactly what I don't want to do?" I paused for effect. "For obvious reasons."

  "Gawd!" Gia threw her head back in frustration. "Sex sells, Cassidi. It sold when this place was a brothel, and it sold when your Uncle Vinnie ran his hair salon here. That's why his business was so successful."

  "Yes." I met her gaze straight on. "But that's also what got him murdered."