Three four-foot-tall double-sided mirrors centered on the tabletop reflected the backlit display of high-end beauty products on the left-hand wall and the manicurist’s array of polishes and artificial nails on the right.
The setup reminded her of the command center of a starship, promising that only the trendiest styles would emerge from the three work stations positioned on each side of the tabletop. She adored the salon’s space-age design, light years from the dumpy beauty parlor at the correctional facility.
Four beautifully coiffed stylists puttered around the chrome-and-white client chairs, eager to work their magic on the midweek crush of regular customers needing trims, touch-ups, and minor repairs. Soon, she’d be one of those magicians.
She heard a spray bottle spritz and caught
