Business decisions are always a crap shoot. I'm tempted to close my hair salon for the duration of Cherry Harvest Festival, pack my bags and leave town for two weeks. Piggy-backing with the Fourth of July Holiday, the Festival is expected to swell our local population ten-fold.

Complicating matters is my inherent distrust of the Chamber of Commerce's rhetoric touting, as fact, that more visitors equal more sales for small business owners. I believe the majority of tourist dollars are spent on entertainment. That translates to more revenue for the restaurants and brew pubs, but not for mom and pop-type businesses.

In the end, the decision to remain open and deal with the hordes makes the most sense. The festival does increase my business as worn-out mothers -- tired of pushing a stroller upstream like coho salmon anxious to drop their eggs – decide to reward themselves with one of my salon services. In fact, the two-week period more than makes up for February, when the only thing warming up is a pair of gloves lying across a heater.

Salon Vivant is located in the heart of Old Town. My building's foundations date to 1906, but that's only obvious when you explore the subterranean level and infrastructure. The foot traffic during the Fourth is staggering – literally – as folks wander out of the pub next door and into the congested sidewalks and streets. Add a cell phone to that mix and you've got loco in motion.

I don't have any clients today. My Wednesdays are devoted to bookwork – a never-ending pain in the rear - or appointments with product salespeople. Today I've got a meeting with my contractor, Justin Alder, and need to review the blueprints before he arrives at 9 A.M.

My concerted efforts to make Salon Vivant a power player in the beauty business has led to a steady increase of happy, committed customers. In the past year, I've doubled my stylists and am ready to unveil my plans for a deluxe spa.

A light breeze off the bay and the exotic scent of lilies jazzes my mood as I exit my condo. The six-block walk to work is a summer highlight. At this hour, the tourists are still in bed, leaving the streets all but deserted.

First up for me is Union Bagel and Brew. Behind the counter is a new face. The girl has a silver loop through her upper lip, and I wonder if it's true that piercings of this type enhance pleasure. For a moment, I'm lost in the image which this conjures for me, but snap back to the present when the young woman's petulant voice raises a notch.

“If you need a moment, step aside. There's a line of people behind you.”

“Sorry... um... I'll have a cheddar cheese bagel with jalapeno cream cheese.” The girl turns away to grab a pair of gloves before reaching into the case for my bagel.

Everyone's testy this time of the year. Probably doesn't recognize me as a local.

She drops the bagel and cream cheese into the bag and begins to ring it up on the register.

“Ah, you didn't ask, but I would also like a double Latte with non-fat milk.”

The girl sends me a three-second glare and drops the bag on the counter top. “Wish you'd said that sooner.”

I hear a prolonged sigh from the person standing behind me, but I choose to ignore both the rudeness and impatience. Besides, coffee is the great equalizer, and this place delivers the goods.

It's 7:25 A.M. when I pull into one of the four spots at the rear entrance of my business. Especially during the summer months, I have to be on the alert. People trying to avoid the parking garage feel they can take my spaces with impunity. I paid a lot to provide a handicap ramp for my older clients, and I don't hesitate to tow anyone who thinks the posted warnings don't apply to them..

Stepping into my private office, I see there's a message waiting on my business phone. It's from Deidre, my youngest stylist.

“I hate to do this to you, Nikki, but I need to stay home with the baby. He's running a temp.” The sound of voices and laughter in the background makes the message hard to hear. Wonder where she's calling from?

Fingers of suspicion creep across my shoulders as I listen to the remainder of the message. “I'm on call for an opening at the pediatrician's office, but you know how that goes. Could you call my clients and let them know? I don't have a copy of the day's schedule with me. Anyway, sorry... and thanks. I'll keep you posted.”

Aw crap. I'll have to cover for her if I can't get hold of her clients in time. Plans for the day out the window.

Deidre's been with me one-month shy of a year. During that period, she's had to cancel client appointments three times due to so-called health crises, either for herself or a family member.

Right now, I'm upset with myself because I didn't listen to that little voice in the back of my mind saying not to hire her. Though she came with good recommendations, when I called the last two salons she worked at, the owners seemed to be trying to send me a message between the lines. They both agreed she was 'creative', so I chose to ignore my suspicion and go with my need for a young, hip stylist.

Appointment book in hand, I'm poised to call Deidre's first client when I hear a knock on the back door. Staring back at me through the peephole is a familiar, friendly face. Chynna, my florist, holds a large box filled with the day's flower delivery, and I'm excited to see what she's brought.

“Hey, girlfriend. What you got for me today?”

“Hi, Nikki. I went to the Farmer's Market this morning. Hope you like what I came up with.”

Forgotten is my earlier task as I breathe in the wonderful scents coming from the boxes.

“I love this time of year, don't you? Great shapes and colors here... tomato-red Zinnias, Gerbera Daisies, blue Cornflowers... and,” holding up a flower whose name escapes me, “this pink-tipped beauty is striking. What's the name of it?”

“That's Lisianthus. I admit that came from the flower shop. Hard one to find, but worth a little extra in price. Hope you don't mind?”

“I never question your artistic eye. You know that.” A reassuring smile from me brings a smile to her lips. I know she's a shy person by nature and very diligent about keeping her clients happy. She also tends to underestimate her talents.

“Listen, I'll leave you to make up the vases. I have some phone calls to make. One of my stylists, Deidre, has a family emergency, and I'm hoping to keep her people from making a wasted trip.”

Chynna's eyebrows knit upward. “Are you talking about Deidre Keller?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Staring down at her flowers, she mumbles, “I don't want to make trouble.”

“Telling me the truth isn't making trouble. What do you know?”

“It's just... okay, she was at the gym this morning for the 6:00 A.M. Spyn class. I was on the bike next to her.”

“And?”

“I overheard her making plans with a friend to spend the day at the beach with their kids.”

Chynna's hands are trembling, and I'm angry that an errant employee of mine is the cause of her distress.

Take a few breaths, Nikki. Don't let your anger show.

“I know that wasn't easy for you. Don't worry. I won't mention how I came by this knowledge, but I can't afford to have my employees showing disrespect for me. Not to mention that others will be inconvenienced by her behavior.”

“I understand. It's getting harder to find people who show up every day on time. I'm sure you'll be fair with her.”

Back in my office, I devise a preliminary plan of action.

Deidre and I will be having a conversation. Whether the outcome is fair in her mind is my last concern.

~~ to be continued ~~