“Unless…” Gina stretched to see around her monitor. “Let’s see those nails, girlfriend.”
Megan held up her hands with their short, no-nonsense nails. They looked fine to her.
And apparently to Gina. “You got me.” Gina shrugged. “Whatever it is, Barry wants something.”
“For sure. Maybe he’s investigating slave labor or spa health-code violations and needs somebody to test them.”
“Nail Fungus,” Gina intoned. “Society’s Secret Shame.”
Megan laughed and typed back an e-mail. “I’m asking him where,” she told Gina.
He responded instantly. “Omigosh, it’s at the Alabaster Spa.”
“Wow.” Gina looked impressed. “He must want something big.”
“Or maybe it’s nothing more than a thank-you the way he says it is.”
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