Kandee put the phone down beside her. She looked at her station tucked in the corner in front of the shampoo bowls. It was, in her opinion, the best space in the salon. She had taken great care to make it her own, to give her clients something nice to look at while they were being pampered. But Macy didn’t think so. Kandee could’ve strangled her that morning when she pointed to the wooden statuette and told her she had until the end of the workday to get rid of it.
“It’s creepy,” she pointed. “No one wants to look at that. They don’t come here to be scared to death.”
“Macy,” Kandee protested. “This is art, a piece I picked up in Haiti. And to be honest, the client isn’t always right. I don’t think I should have to remove it. You never told Lucy to take down that lewd picture of that football player so how dare you--”
Macy arched her brow. “It would be in your best interest not to take that tone with me. You’re forgetting. This is my salon. The freaky statue goes, or you do.”
How about I clock you a few times with it is what she wanted to say. “Whatever you say.” Was all she managed to choke out.
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