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watch your tongue, or you’ll be sorry,” she told Tyler. “I can do a hell of a lot more to hurt you than just blocking your next promotion.” Staggering to her feet, she wavered briefly before heading toward the elevators.
    “Man, I shouldn’t have shot off my mouth like that,” Tyler groaned after his boss left. He covered his face with his hands.
    Georgia patted his knee. “She’ll forget about it by tomorrow.”
    You hope, Marla thought. After warning me to let Chris be the center of attention, you go and snuggle close to Tyler. Big mistake, when Chris obviously has her sights set on him.
    “We should go.” Rising, Marla stretched her arms.
    “Chris may fire me,” Tyler said, lifting his head. “Or else she’ll tell people things. I can’t let her talk about me.”
    “You’re too important to the team,” Georgia replied. Her tone oozed sympathy, but Marla couldn’t tell if she genuinely cared about Tyler, or if she felt obligated to reassure him. “She reminds me of a client who tells me how to use the curling iron every week at her appointment. It’s annoying, but I realize she just naturally orders people around. I nod my head and go about my business. That’s what you have to do with Chris. Act agreeable and then follow your own counsel.”
    “I don’t agree.” Marla sank back into her seat as an aching heaviness invaded her limbs. She needed to get home and go to sleep, but the thought of greeting her houseguests immobilized her. “One of my former customers, Bertha Kravitz, used to order me around, but I had to do what she said. She knew something about me that could have damaged my reputation.”
    Tyler’s startled glance told her he understood, maybe even shared the same problem. “So how did you handle her?” he asked.
    Her mouth twisted wryly. “I didn’t charge for her hair appointments, and she came weekly. This went on for eight years, until she was murdered.”
    “No shit.” Tyler’s eyebrows soared. “Tell me about it.”
    “Yeah, Marla, you never mentioned this before,” Georgia charged. She remained next to Tyler but kept a little distance from him.
    “You don’t want to hear the whole megillah . It’s a long story,” Marla said, her voice showing the strain of fatigue.
    “Sure we do,” her friend prompted.
    “All right. Bertha died while she sat in my shampoo chair. I was giving her a perm, and we were alone in the salon. The cops suspected me.”
    “Omigosh, hon, is that how you met Detective Vail?”
    “You got it.” She related the rest of her sordid past, leaving out some of the details. “So it ended well, for me at least.”
    Georgia shrugged. “I can think of a few people who I wouldn’t mind removing from my customer list, although not in that manner.”
    “Couldn’t we all,” Tyler put in. “I’m not a stylist, so I don’t do hair, but some of the salon owners that I deal with don’t know shit about the business.” Marla noticed how his vocabulary had deteriorated with the passing hours. ‘There’s one—“
    “Wait, I gotta tell you about the flight attendant who wears her hair like airplane wings,” Georgia cut in, renewed energy in her tone. Clearly, she enjoyed shop talk.
    They traded stories into the night, until Marla’s head drooped and she jerked herself awake. Rousing herself with effort, she grasped her purse and pushed up from her chair.
    “Sorry to cut this short, but it’s late. Georgia, let’s go while I can still drive.”
    “Hey,” Tyler said, plowing a hand through his tousled hair. With his bristly jaw and bleary eyes, he appeared much less debonair than earlier that evening. “Maybe I should go apologize to Chris. She’s gonna hate me for what I said.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Georgia told him, yet she hovered as though concerned for him.
    “She might say things that could cause trouble.”
    Marla sympathized with his concern, but it was late. “Why don’t you catch her in the morning? You’ll