Free Lavender Lipstick Lies: A Mystery of Makeup & Mayhem by Mary Maxwell Page B

Orlando,
except those were U.S. Presidents and comical bears instead of Roman gods
proclaiming loudly with quasi-British accents.
    “This is killing my neck,” Emma
whined, gazing at the flashes of light and color across the ceiling. “Do you
want to stay for the rest of it?”
    “I’m okay either way,” I said.
    She grabbed my hand. “Great! Let’s
go back to the shops and spend some money!”

Chapter 17
     
     
    Bree groaned as she sank onto the
sofa back in our suite later that afternoon. She was surrounded by colorful
shopping bags from several of the stores at Caesars.
    “Why did I buy so much?” she
griped. “My husband is going to kill me.”
    Emma snorted. “Why would he do
that? Aren’t you entitled to spend your own money?”
    Bree muttered a reply.
    “Besides,” Emma continued, “maybe
he’ll like seeing you in some of those lacey things you bought at La Perla.”
    “He’ll love seeing me in them,”
Bree said. “As long as I don’t tell him how much they cost!”
    We shared a warm laugh together
before the room went quiet. I took a seat on the chaise by the windows and
gazed out at the hazy sky and the mountains in the distance.
    “What did we decide?” I asked after
a few minutes of reflection. “Chippendales?”
    “If we can get in,” Emma said.
    “Well, Amanda said she heard it’s
sold out,” Bree said. “All those other Splendora women probably booked it
months in advance.”
    “We can try our luck,” I suggested.
“Maybe call them now?”
    Emma grabbed her phone. “Let me
check on it,” she said. “If we can get tickets, I’ll come right back. If not, I’m
going to take off these clothes and put on my robe while we relax for a bit.”
    After she left us, Bree started
pawing through her purchases. She mumbled and grumbled to herself as she
investigated what was in each of the large bags.
    “I don’t know why you don’t believe
Amanda,” she murmured.
    I leaned forward to try and hear
better. “About what?”
    She smirked. “Chippendales. The
show tonight is totally sold out. We should’ve thought of that ahead of
time. Amanda said a lot of the other girls booked their tickets weeks ago.”
    I didn’t feel like arguing about
something as inconsequential as a Las Vegas revue, so I sat and watched her
sift through the shopping bags.
    “I can’t believe I did this again,”
she said finally.
    “What’s that?”
    “Used my credit cards in so many
stores. On one hand, I know it’s a stupid move. But on the other hand, I’m so
far in the hole at this point that I probably don’t even care anymore.”
    From the look on her face and the
heavy sigh, it was clear the subject of money was making her uncomfortable. I
wasn’t sure if I should say anything, so I simply smiled and waited.
    “My husband’s been really
pressuring me lately,” she said after a minute of silence.
    I looked over. “About shopping?”
    She scowled. “About everything .”
The word took on a weighty meaning; it seemed that maybe shopping and using her
credit cards weren’t the only things she and her husband had been discussing.
    “Do you want to talk about it?” I
asked quietly. “I mean, not to pry or anything.”
    She flashed a smile. “That’s sweet,
Abs.”
    “I don’t know about you,” I
offered, “but I find it’s really helpful to talk about things that are making
me upset.”
    She nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
    “But it’s up to you,” I added.
    Her face suddenly went from light
to dark as her smile vanished. “Although I can’t see what you might possibly
know about it,” she said coldly. “With your perfect husband. And your perfect marriage. And your perfect life.”
    I was so stunned by the sudden
reversal that my mouth fell open and my forehead crumpled with surprise.
    “Are you okay, Bree?”
    She snorted. “What do you care?”
    “I do. What’s going on?”
    With a gravelly growl, she pushed
up from the sofa, grabbed her shopping bags and stomped