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“Hello?”
Loud, drawn-out weeping erupts on the other end of the line.
I snap to attention, my shoulders tightening.
“Island…” A voice weeps.
It’s one of my franchise managers. “Rasheeda?”
“Island, I’m so… so…”
Alarmed, I speak firmly and clearly, “Rasheeda, are you in trouble? Are you hurt? What’s happening?”
As I speak, I feel a presence at my back. I don’t need to turn around to know the eavesdropper is Bolton. His aura is nearly overwhelming and if I wasn’t so focused on getting Rasheeda to say a cohesive sentence, I’d probably be terrified by it.
Since I feel utterly helpless right now, it’s almost nice to have him around.
Almost.
“Island,” Rasheeda wails, “the salon.”
My heart jumps to my throat. “What about the salon?”
“Everything. They took everything.” She starts bawling loudly again.
“Rasheeda,” I struggle to keep my cool, “Rasheeda, what do you mean they took everything? Took what?”
“The dryers. The mirrors. The television screens. The vending machines. Everything. They just… they cleaned out the place.”
“What?” I shriek. “Okay. Just…” My mind is whirring. “Have you called the police?”
“Yes.”
“Is there someone there with you?”
“Yes, my nail technician.”
“Good. I’ll be there soon. Just hold tight.” I hang up and dart toward the street.
The road is completely empty. Why the hell did Bolton call me out to somewhere so deserted?
Behind me, an engine rumbles. A moment later, Bolton’s beefed up SUV rolls in front of me.
He winds the window down. “Get in.”
I stare into his stern blue eyes. “No.”
“Island, I’ve gotten a lot of urgent phone calls in my life. I know what one sounds and looks like.”
I fold my arms over my chest.
“Good luck getting a taxi out here. And calling an Uber’s going to take time. You don’t have another choice.”
Ugh.I hate that he’s right.
As much as I can’t stand him, I can’t be Island Hayes the woman right now. I have to be Island Hayes, the franchise owner.
And that means making decisions that I don’t necessarily like.