“Am I getting the one-on-one—here, this morning?”
“I said I’d give you what you needed.”
“Fine. Hold on.” Nadine stood again, pulled out her ’link, and walked out of the room.
“She’s gotta go on screen and say nice things about an asshole,” Trina commented, still snipping. “A lot of assholes in the world though, and most of them probably have some nice parts in there. She had good skin, took care of it. That’s something nice to say.”
Eve tried to swivel again so she could see Trina in the mirror, but Trina locked the chair in place. “Hold still, I’m fine-tuning.”
“How do you know about her skin? Mars?”
“I did her face and hair a few times. She tried buying me away from Nadine. As if.” Trina snorted off the idea of it and kept snipping. “I got my own place, and I do this gig because I like it. Mostly I just do Nadine up for Now, unless we got something big like this. And I don’t work for that sort. She comes into the salon, that’s one thing.”
Eve read worlds in the tone. “What do you know, Trina?”
Trina released the chair, turned Eve to face the mirror. “I know you’ve got good hair, and you can thank me for looking after it.”
Eve honestly couldn’t see much difference, which actually counted in Trina’s favor. “What and who did she talk about when she sat in here?”
Trina’s ruby-red lips—with three tiny stars at the left corner—pokered up. She lifted her hands into a point over the chair, brought them down like a pyramid.
“What’s that?”
“That’s the Cone of Silence. Somebody sits in my chair, that’s what they’re sitting in.” Trina’s chin jutted up, held firm as stone. “That’s the integrity of the chair.”
“Murder evaporates the Cone of Silence.”
“Maybe.” Those same lips pursed in thought as Trina picked up one of the brushes.
“Keep that stuff away from me.”
“You’re going on screen. Nadine’s got the serious reporter look. You need some kick-ass.”
“I am a kick-ass.”
“I know that, you know that.” Using the brush for emphasis, Trina pointed the end at Eve. “Which is how I know how to make sure everybody else does. You don’t like it after, it comes off. But if you want me to break the C of S, I need the incentive. C of S is sacred shit.”
She set down the brush, opened a drawer, took out a small tool. “Your eyebrows need shaping. She tried to wheedle info out of me—just like you are now, right? Sugar-time though, not hard-ass like you. All smiles and just-us-girls shit. I said how I couldn’t tell her anything about anybody, just like I couldn’t tell anybody anything about her.”
Trina paused, met Eve’s eyes in the mirror with her purple ones. Whatever their color, those eyes transmitted sincere emotion. “She poked at me about Mavis, Dallas—like I’d ever give anybody anything about Mavis. No matter what or who. Ever.”
Now those eyes fired hot. Another point in Trina’s favor, Eve conceded. Her absolute loyalty to a friend.
“I know that,” Eve said, to smooth her out a little. “I know that without a single shake.”
“Right. Okay.” Trina breathed out. “So. She said how she’d pay me for a vid of Mavis and Leonardo and Bella at home. When she saw that pissed me off, she tried saying she meant with their permission. But she didn’t.”
Listening, considering, Eve tolerated the buzzing at her eyebrows.
“Did she ever threaten you, Trina? I need it straight.”
“No.” Stopping her work for an instant, Trina swiped a hand over her heart. “Arrow straight there, solid. More she tried to be the girlfriend, you know what I’m saying? Dropped little digs about Nadine not appreciating me enough. How she’d pay me more on the side than I got here, working with Nadine. She worked you in to the conversation once or twice, just how she’d heard I did your hair for something, and wondered what it was like.”
She set the tool down, looked at Eve. “Cone of Silence. Absolute.”
No question, Eve thought. No question whatsoever, whatever the pain in the ass. “Appreciated.”
“Appreciated or not, that’s my line, get it? I don’t cross it. She finally got that. Maybe because I didn’t tell anybody any of the shit she tried to bribe out of me.”