Free Beautiful Liars by Kylie Adams

minutes/Every day and all night/These hos just eating up my cell phone minutes ...”
    Simone realized with a current of outrage that this misogynisticaural assault was the thug’s mobile ring tone.
    â€œYo! Just chilling, motherfucker. Crept up in Dior to get a little something-something for one of my dick divers. You know how it is.”
    In a huff, Simone stalked away, intercepting Alexandra just as she returned.
    With a cold glare, she slapped Simone’s American Express Platinum onto the counter and rudely slid it back in her direction.“Your card was declined.”
    â€œThere must be some mistake,” Simone said automatically.It was her rote response to this all too common embarrassmentof late.
    â€œI ran it through twice.” Alexandra sighed. “Do you have another form of payment?”
    Simone could feel a flush of heat spread up from her neck. Nervously, she ransacked her purse and snatched out what looked to be half a dozen cards. “I’m having a problem with my bank. Just keep trying until one works.”
    She stood there for what seemed like forever, nervously drumming her fingers on the counter until Alexandra returned,this time with a receipt, the sight of which triggered a grateful sigh of relief.
    â€œAll of these were declined as well,” Alexandra pointed out, handing over five credit cards. “This is the one that was charged.” She slammed down a gold Visa.
    Simone shot back a haughty glare as she scribbled her signature.“I can’t believe you let people like him in this store. I feel like my personal safety was compromised.”
    Alexandra laughed a little. “Don’t you know who that is?” Her tone was incredulous.
    â€œShould I?”
    â€œThat’s Ke von Edmonds.” Alexandra dropped the moniker with all the frustration one might employ when pointing out the recognition factor of, say, Bill Clinton.
    But the name meant nothing to Simone. “Did he escape some grisly murder charge or something? Like O.J. Simpson?”
    Alexandra shook her head. “People say he’s the new Diddy. He’s got a recording label, a clothing line, a reality show. The man even has his own brand of vodka.”
    Simone shot a glance backward. “Oh, well ... he’s still disgusting.”
    Alexandra sniffed. “Your package should be out soon. Excuse me.” And then she darted away to engage the ghetto mogul. “Again, I’m so sorry about that bag. But I know we can find something that will be just as fabulous for your friend.”
    Simone turned away. How vile. As she pushed thoughts of Kevon Edmonds out of mind, she attempted to do the same on the matter of her finances. After all, there were larger issuesto fret over. Like what to wear on tomorrow’s show. As much as she loathed to admit it, Emma Ronson had been consistently outdoing her on the fashion front. A drippy news girl! And Simone was a model and actress. Something had to give.
    A beautiful Asian woman emerged with Simone’s purse. It was nestled inside a rich Dior box and nestled once more inside an equally rich shopping bag. An empty place in her heart seemed to fill up when she took possession of it. Shopping for luxury items always carried that impact.
    Just as Simone was slipping into a cab, her cellular vibrated. The incoming number perplexed her. “Hello?”
    â€œName your price, Foxy Brown. I’m the kind of brother who doesn’t like to be told he can’t have something.”
    Simone placed her hand over the mouthpiece to call out her address to the annoyed driver. “How did you get my cell number?” Her voice was humorless.
    â€œI’m a resourceful motherfucker.”
    Simone stewed in a cauldron of silence, feeling violated and preyed upon. “I don’t find this amusing.”
    â€œThat makes two of us.”
    The taxi crawled along Fifty-Seventh Street. A bus showcasingthe images of Simone,