I never imagined an ordinary day at my salon would leave me holding a secret that could shatter someone’s heart. But once I uncovered the lies behind one man’s charming smile, I knew I couldn’t look away.
“Oh, honey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
I stared at the photo on my client’s phone, gripping the nail polish bottle so tightly my fingers hurt.
A ghost would’ve been easier to explain.
The smiling man was Danny.
And I knew his wife very well.
I stared at the photo.
“Sorry,” I said. “My hand slipped.”
My client laughed. “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart. That face has the same effect on me. Gorgeous, isn’t he?”
I swallowed. “Very handsome.”
“Handsome and loaded! Girl, I hit the jackpot!”
“My hand slipped.”
I picked up my nail brush and continued working.
Because the woman who’d spent months crying in my salon chair deserved to know why her husband wouldn’t even kiss her goodnight.
And I wasn’t going to let Danny keep fooling her.
Her husband wouldn’t even kiss her.
But first, I needed my client to keep talking.
Fortunately, he didn’t need much encouragement.
I’ve been doing nails for almost five years, and trust me, people will tell their nail tech everything.
I’m Raven, 29, and becoming a nail technician wasn’t exactly my dream.
I needed my client to keep talking.
After marrying my husband, Marcus, I struggled to find steady work. I took a nail course, hoping to earn money until something better came along.
Turns out, I’m good at it.
I also enjoy hearing clients’ stories.
Well, most of them.
I’m good at it.
Last Friday, a new client in his mid-30s walked in wearing oversized sunglasses and a bright pink shirt. “Darling, please tell me you can save these hands!”
He waved his fingers at me.
“I’m Julian, and these nails are embarrassing my ancestors!”
I laughed. He seemed friendly enough.
A new client.
Julian was an event planner with a personality bigger than my salon.
We were barely 10 minutes into his manicure when he leaned forward. “Girl, you have no idea how lucky I am.”
“Let me guess. Something romantic?”
He laughed. “How’d you know?!”
“Let me guess.”
“I can always tell when someone’s in love!”
He grinned. “Well, I’ve got myself a rich boyfriend. Like, seriously rich.”
“Good for you!”
“He’s got a gorgeous house, takes me to fancy restaurants, and buys me whatever I want!”
“Sounds like quite a catch.”
“Good for you!”
“Oh, there’s just one little problem.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s married.”
I stopped filing. “Wait, seriously?”
“Relax! His wife barely pays attention to him. He’s practically single, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
Honestly, I’ve always hated that kind of thing, especially since I’m married. I couldn’t believe how casually he said it, but I kept smiling.
But lecturing and arguing with clients don’t help business.
Julian continued describing expensive gifts and weekend getaways while I tried to focus on his manicure.
Then, he pulled out his phone. “Actually, wanna see him? He’s pretty handsome.”
I’ve always hated that kind of thing.
Before I could answer, he turned the screen toward me.
And there he was.
Danny!
My hand jerked, nearly knocking over the polish!
“Whoa, you okay?!”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I wasn’t fine.
Not even close.
There he was.
Taylor has been my client for four years.
She is 43, funny, generous, and married to Danny, a wealthy real estate developer.
For years, she’d spoken about him like he was the greatest husband alive.
Then, eight months ago, things changed.
Taylor has been my client.
Danny stopped taking her on dates.
He started coming home late.
Eventually, he moved into their guest bedroom.
Taylor tried everything.
Romantic dinners. Weekend plans.
Nothing worked.
Taylor tried everything.
During one appointment, she’d stared at her nails and whispered, “Raven, am I becoming unattractive?”
I’d nearly dropped my file. “Taylor, you’re beautiful! Why would you ask that?!”
She became teary-eyed. “Because my husband hasn’t touched me in months.”
She told me she’d once waited up, wearing a dress he’d bought her.
“Am I becoming unattractive?”
Danny came home, looked at her, and asked why she was still awake.
