Free The Third Sin by Elsa Klensch

frightful one for any woman to make. And the photographer who had taken the picture of her coming out of the clinic was despicable.
    â€œI wouldn’t call it bad luck. I’d call it an unforgivable invasion of privacy,” she said firmly.
    â€œDid you know that Donna had an abortion?”
    Keeping her face expressionless to hide her surprise, Sonya looked at the intern. Her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling with excitement.
    â€œNo, I didn’t know,” she said, “but I think that’s Donna’s business, not mine.”
    â€œOh, don’t be such a prude. Everyone knows about it. She got pregnant a year or so after she joined the network and my mom looked after her when she had the abortion. That’s why they became friends.”
    Sonya had heard rumors about Donna but had no intention of discussing them with Kirsten. She looked again at the program.
    Short shows were the trend. It took more time to get in and out of the crowded tents than it did to see a thirty-piece collection of mostly outlandish clothing that few people would actually ever wear. The corporations which owned most designers’ names wanted as much publicity as they could get. The extravagant outfits made for great video that was flashed around the world. The publicity they got increased the sales of the designers’ accessories and perfume. That’s what the CEOs wanted. Did the publicity help women to spend money wisely? No, Sonya told herself, it just confused them.
    Kirsten was young enough to be a perfect victim. She swallowed every new sales pitch without question, struggling to stay on the cutting edge. Sonya thought of her compulsive shopping and the bags of newly acquired clothes hidden in the office. Kirsten seemed to be ashamed to take them home where her mother would see them and question her. Sonya wondered how many hours a day she spent putting together her outfits.
    Kirsten gave her a sideways glance and said, “How do you like my new hairstyle?” She had recently dyed her chestnut hair a light auburn so it was almost as red as Sonya’s. She’d also curled it into the loose bob that Sonya wore.
    â€œI certainly recognize the color,” Sonya said.
    Kirsten had the grace to look abashed. “You know I envy your hair, Sonya. Mine’s so dull and mousy. I hope you don’t mind, I just wanted to experiment with a look that is more exciting.”
    â€œIt’s okay, I’m not annoyed,” Sonya replied, though secretly she was irritated. Kirsten’s new hairstyle suited her and the red color made her pale skin look translucent. But it wasn’t only her hair and makeup she copied. Kirsten came into her office and looked around. Sonya had caught her going through production notes on her office desk.
    â€œIs your mother as fascinated with fashion as you are?” she asked.
    â€œNo, Mom is an old stick in the mud. All she cares about is cooking.” Sonya looked at Kirsten more closely, appraising her total appearance. Over her coral T-shirt she wore a micro minidress with a stripe of black, blue, coral, and turquoise running around her hips. On most women that stripe would add ten pounds; on Kirsten it only emphasized her slender, model-like figure. She’d paired the dress with a pair of obviously new sandals with a two-inch wedge and silver straps. Sonya had watched her struggling along the corridor in them and had almost laughed out loud.
    Kirsten followed her glance, arched her foot, and said, “My wedgies were a present from my father. He bought them for me in Milan. He likes to see me dressed up.”
    Sonya was surprised. Kirsten had rarely mentioned her father before. She had once thought he was out of the picture, assuming Harold had taken over as her father figure.
    â€œThat’s a nice trait for a father to have.”
    â€œYes. He can be generous when he wants. But he’s pretty mixed up. You should hear Wade talk