Haircut and Highlights (Daytona Beach Mysteries Book 1) - Janie Owens

Haircut and Highlights (Daytona Beach Mysteries Book 1) by Janie Owens

Book excerpt

Her hand shook slightly as she stuck the key into the lock and pulled open the door. What had she done? Only invested into her heart and soul. Abby Bugsly stepped inside, glancing around the narrow room. Four booths, two on either side, were lined up in military order, the black chairs appearing to salute her arrival.

Abby tossed her keys on the curved desk that would meet customers. A collection of chairs was placed to the left with a round table in the center, sans magazines. Note to self: subscribe to magazines. She walked across the work floor to the back, noting the mirrors were perfect, nothing chipped. The stands attached to the wall underneath were in very good condition, which she had noticed when she inspected the property a week ago.

As she passed the two black shampoo sinks on the right, she made note of the storage room to the left, and then a white washer and dryer. On the other side, behind the shampoo bowls, was the pedicure room, and behind that, the breakroom for employees. The salon was well laid out, although small. And clean. That was important. No one wanted to get a haircut or their nails done in a shabby salon.

The downtown area had been on sorry times recently along Beach Street. Most of the building owners decided to place a new façade across all the businesses along the street and paint their buildings in different bright Florida colors. A good deal was promised on the rent for the first year to entice new businesses to occupy the buildings that were vacant. The rent was dirt cheap, so Abby had no problem with the price.

Back at the front again, she eyed the wall beside the desk. That was where her licenses would be displayed. But before that action, she had to start placing orders for supplies. She couldn’t run a salon without hair color, shampoo and conditioner, and a multitude of other essentials. And employees. Abby pulled her cell from her purse, heaving that onto the desk. Some of the girls who used to work here were attempting to work from home she had been told. Abby had their numbers. Her intent was to contact each one to see if they had any interest in returning to the salon. She crossed her fingers and toes they were willing. She walked behind the desk and sat on the stool, preparing herself for a potential letdown, yet hopeful some were willing.

Abby hadn’t lived in Daytona Beach, Florida, for several years. She’d had a stint at marriage and moved to Tampa. Moving to Tampa had been a disaster, along with the marriage. Daytona Beach was her hometown and where her heart was happiest. At first, she had stayed at a B&B that a friend of hers operated not far from the salon. Angie Barnes, now Forbes since her marriage, had offered her a room at a reduced rate until she found a place to live and landed a job. But when she discovered a salon among the cute shops along Beach Street, she decided to open her own. The bonus had been the availability of an apartment on the third floor of the same building. It didn’t get better than that, living above her business.

“Hi, I’m Abby Bugsly and I am opening a salon on Beach Street, the one you worked at. I was given your name as someone who might be interested in returning.” Abby paused for a response.

The woman at the other end of the conversation said she was pregnant and didn’t want to stand on her feet all day.

“Oh, okay. Well, nice talking to you,” Abby said. She punched in the numbers for the next person, receiving another disappointing answer. “Okay, number three, here we go.”

She repeated her name and asked to speak to Sonia, since a man answered. When Sonia got on the line, her English was quite broken, making the conversation strained.

“Yes, I am located at the same salon you worked in. Uh-huh,” Abby said as she listened carefully to the woman speak. “Oh, you are? That’s wonderful. I plan to open in one week. Is that good for you?”

Apparently one week was perfect for Sonia and she was excited to return to her old job.

“Yippie!” Abby cried out loud. “I have one employee.” And that was it. No one else on the list was available or willing to return. Now what?

Abby stuck her head out the door, looking both ways. She needed a cup of coffee. She locked the door and ventured down the street on a hunt to satisfy her craving. She glanced across the street at the fire station, followed by the yachts fastened to the dock. Such wealth! Way beyond her expectations. But the scene was nice to look at, and the breeze coming from the river was cool and refreshing.

“Hey, there,” she heard and turned to see where the voice had come from.

An older woman dressed in clothes reminiscent of the 1960s was standing by the door to the next shop. The name of the place was Memories. “You renting that place?” she asked with a poke of her thumb in the direction of the salon.

“Yes, I am,” Abby answered. “I’m Abby Bugsly.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bobbi Bell,” said the woman, coming closer. “This is my place. I sell everything that’s old, cutesy, and makes you feel nostalgic. And some antiques. Real ones, not knockoffs.“

“How nice. I’m a hairdresser looking for work, so I ended up opening this place,” Abby said with a nod of her head toward her shop. “I need employees, though.”

“I can put you in touch with someone. Her name’s Ivy Snooks. My niece.” Bobbi pulled out a pen and wrote the contact information on the back of her business card. “Real sweet kid.”

“Thanks, I’ll call her.” Abby took the card, slipping it into her jeans. “I’m off for a cup of coffee.”

“Two doors down is a deli. Coffee’s pretty good there.”

“Okay, I’ll check it out.” She took a few steps, then turned toward the other woman. “Nice to know you, Bobbi.”

Bobbi nodded her red curly head and smiled.

Abby went inside and met some of the staff at the deli. Once she returned to her shop, she called the number Bobbi had given her. “Hi, yes, I’m Abby Bugsly. Your aunt gave me your number believing you were looking for a position in a salon.” She listened intently as the obviously young woman on the other end of the line got excited at the prospect of working for her. “Yes, tomorrow will be fine to meet. Right next door to your aunt’s place. Okay, goodbye.” Maybe she had two employees.

***

Abby rose the next morning with a positive attitude, anticipating something good happening. This will be a good day, was her thought as she made her way to the kitchen. She poked the “on” button of the coffee maker, then did what she needed to do in the bathroom. Her kitchen ran into the living room, with a narrow hallway to the right where the bathroom was. The bedroom was across from there, with a smaller one next to the bathroom. She didn’t need the second bedroom, but it came with the apartment. Each room was spacious, yet the place had a cozy vibe. So far, she liked living here. The rent was good, and the neighborhood was decent. She hoped to make friends with some of the shopkeepers.

She slipped on blue jeans and a blue tee, sliding her feet into brown sandals. That’s when she caught sight of her toes and realized she needed a pedicure. A salon owner couldn’t walk around with crummy feet. Bad advertising. Abby put on enough makeup to get by and pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail. After she stuck hoops into her ears, she eagerly poured a cup of coffee. A bagel with cream cheese was her breakfast. And coffee. Abby loved coffee. Then she went downstairs to her business. What a great commute!