Annie had a migraine for the fourth day running, and it was showing no signs of stopping.
She knew what she needed to do, but she couldn’t take the time off required to deal with it. Creditors were calling about their unpaid invoices. The end of the month was quickly approaching and there were more and more people looking to get paid. Then there were the usual bills, not to mention her own personal expenses to consider.
“I know we owe you—I just need a little time to sort things out,” she recited to yet another supplier on the other end of the line.
She was getting so used to uttering those words they were becoming her own painful prose.
“Annie, I have bills of my own to pay and when I don’t pay, I don’t get the stock,” John Butler, her supplier, pointed out. “So why should you?”
She sighed. “I know. I just need a little time, John,” she repeated. “Please don’t cut me off. I know my cash flow problems are not your problems, but I’m asking you to just give me a little more time and I promise that I’ll get it sorted.”
“I’ve already given you ample time. If you don’t pay the outstanding balances within seven days, I’ll hand this matter over to a collection agency. Frank fobbed me off enough times already, so I don’t have much confidence in your promises either.”
“But I didn’t know about the backlog. I assure you if I had known I would’ve made sure you were paid long ago. I only just found out that there were some delays and I’m trying to rectify that,” Annie explained. She closed her eyes and massaged her temple.
“What kind of owner doesn’t know what’s going on with their own business?” John asked.
His question caused her eyes to snap open. “The kind who trusts too easily,” she answered bitterly.
“Where’s Frank?”
“He’s gone,” Annie answered. And with him most of my company’s money and life savings.
“Can you please give me a little more time?” she implored. “I promise I’ll sort this out.”
Annie hated the sound of her own voice saying those words. She was begging. She didn’t beg, but what choice did she have? If she could keep the creditors at bay just a little while longer, there was a chance she could come up with some kind of plan. If she couldn’t, her livelihood and everything she’d worked for was over.
“OK, one last chance, Annie.”
The words were music to her ears.
“That’s great. I owe you one,” she answered in relief. “And I will send some money to you this month. I don’t know how much yet, but it will be something. I promise.”
She hung up the phone and dropped her head on her desk.
She couldn’t bask in that small triumph just yet. There were several more people she needed to call, including the bank. She was definitely going to need another business loan, though at this point she wasn’t sure the bank would give it to her.
She needed another coffee. And something for her migraine, too.
Putting on her best game face, Annie headed out onto the salon floor.
“Hello, ladies,” she greeted cheerfully. The stylists and customers alike all smiled in return.
“Oh, Annie, there you are—do you have a minute?” Lauren Hennessy, one of her best regulars, called out as she passed the waiting area.
Since day one, Lauren had been coming to #GlamSquad for her weekly wash and curly blow dry, or color treatment and trim, and had even followed her when she moved premises.
The jackhammer in Annie’s head seemed to get even louder, but still she flashed Lauren a game smile. “‘Course, Lauren. How are you?”
“Privately?”
Annie tried to quiet the discomfort she felt.
What now?
“OK, why don’t you come back to my office?” She turned to reception. “Amanda, hold Lauren’s appointment for a bit. And be a star and get us both a cuppa. Tea or coffee?” she asked her customer.
“Tea, please. And maybe a biscuit if you have one.”
The two women walked toward the back of the salon, Annie’s thoughts racing a mile a minute. What the hell did Lauren want to discuss that required privacy?
“Have a seat,” Annie said as she closed the door behind them. “What can I do for you?”
Lauren’s expression was very still and it only made Annie’s anxiety worse.
“Is everything OK, Annie?” the older woman asked.
“Yes, of course. What do you mean?”
“Well, as you know I’ve been coming to you for a long time, and to my mind this place is one of the best. It’s just... I’ve heard a few things.”
“What kind of things?” she asked shortly.
“Well, that you owe people a lot of money. That the business is under fierce pressure,” Lauren said flatly.
Annie’s heart froze in her chest. How could she know this? Nick wouldn’t have said anything, would he?
She stared at Lauren. Words escaped her. If she denied it then Lauren would know she was a liar. If she admitted it then she risked her reputation and that of her salon.
“Who told you that?” she asked.
“One of your suppliers is a client of my husband’s at the bank. He mentioned he was having some troubles with a salon who wouldn’t pay their bills. I’ve been a client of #GlamSquad for a long time, Annie. I wouldn’t have thought you to be dishonest.”
The implication stung and her hackles rose. And with it, Annie’s temper.
“Dishonest? How dare you!” she raged before she could stop herself. “I’m as honest as the day is long, which is more than I can say for your husband, talking out of school like that.”
“Well...” Lauren’s face reddened. “I was only asking because I’ve been coming here for so long and I thought of you as a friend. But obviously I was wrong.”
“Lauren...wait. I’m sorry.” Shit, the gossip mill would be running on overtime now. It was bad enough losing all her money; she shouldn’t be trying to lose all her best clients, too.
Oh fuck; Lauren’s husband worked at the bank where she had her business accounts and might well have some influence over whether or not she got her loan.
She breathed deeply, trying to swallow her pride. Perhaps she could save this and appeal to Lauren’s better nature by confessing the true nature of her problems. She hated admitting weakness to anyone but needs must this time...
But the woman was already on her feet and her expression now became cool. “You’re a fantastic stylist, Annie, and your salon has always been my favorite, but I’ll be taking my business elsewhere. I won’t be treated like this and certainly will no longer be associated with someone who doesn’t pay their way.”
Annie swallowed the lump that was trying to jump into her throat. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears that she could hardly hear Lauren speak. If she didn’t find a way to rescue this, then she was simply speeding along her livelihood’s demise.
She couldn’t let that happen.
“Lauren, please, this is a stressful time. But believe me, I’m not dishonest, nor refusing to pay my way. I was swindled by someone who used to work for me and I’m just trying to find a way out of this mess. Please, I’m so sorry for snapping. And for what I said about your husband. I didn’t mean it.”
“Oh, I think you did, actually. And while I meant what I said about your work, to be honest, Annie, your manner has always left a lot to be desired.”
With that Lauren swept out of the room.
Annie began to hyperventilate. She stumbled toward her desk and collapsed in the seat as she tried to catch her breath. As she did, her phone dinged and she reached for where she’d left it, wondering what fresh hell was about to be unleashed on her now.
It was Kim.
Hey, I sent you an invite to the launch but noticed you haven’t RSVP’d. Really hope you can make it?
For Christ’s sake! A goddamn jolly in Italy was the last thing on her mind at the moment.
Annie read the message a few times, resisting the urge to tell Kim Weston to just go and shag off with her big party and her thriving business and her sweet life.
She wanted to lie and say that she hadn’t received anything, but the invite and tickets had been delivered to the salon by courier so Kim would know that she had.
She really should have RSVP’d, or at least contacted her to thank her for her generosity, but so much had blown up since.
Oh God...
She kneaded her forehead. There were so many fires to put out and too much stress. Her business was bust, customers were walking out the door, and she had no idea how to rescue this. She had no idea how she was even going to make this month’s rent, never mind anything else...
Then Annie thought of something.
She hated herself for it, and had sworn to herself she wouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it—the pull was irresistible.
She clicked onto social media and scrolled through photos she’d seen a million times before. The perfect life, perfect couple, perfect everything—all that she’d wanted and hoped for but could never have. It wasn’t fair.
To hell with it, she thought, picking up the phone, her fingers moving quickly over the screen.
Her life was falling apart anyway—what else was there to lose?