“Is she feeling better?”
“She and Machu Picchu were down for the count last night. I forced her to stay home and rest today. She said it was just the flu.”
“Good. So how do we make my sister talk?” Kellen asked. “Neither one of us is exactly equipped to cajole answers out of a woman who doesn’t want to give them.”
“I’ve got an idea on that front. We need a woman to school us on open communication.”
Kellen snorted. “I’m guessing neither of our mothers are on that list.”
The idea of Marie Santiago and Constance Weber offering anyone a safe space to be honest had both men laughing. At least until the gurney wheeled past them.
17
11:22 a.m., Saturday, October 26
“Itotally get why you’re attracted to the gray one, but this red screamsfierce,” Sesame said, shoving a red sweater at Riley and pushing her toward the dressing room.
“She’s right, Riley,” Jasmine agreed over the rim of her champagne glass.
Apparently when women arrived at a boutique store in a limo, champagne was an automatic part of the shopping experience.
Riley reluctantly closed the curtain and stared at the clothes they’d forced upon her. She’d stayed under control in the athleisure store and bought a pair of unholey, slightly ugly, high-end leggings from the sale rack for twenty-two dollars. While both Sesame and Jasmine seemed determined to make her open her wallet, she was distracted by all the thoughts swirling in her head, including the fact that she now had only a few days to pull together a surprise Halloween party for her boyfriend who wasn’t going to be speaking to her if he found out she’d not only left the house but decided to meddle with Sesame.
To top it off, she hadn’t had a single stray thought from a stranger or shimmer of a vision since Cotton Candy World had disintegrated. For once, the only voice in her head was her own.
“Who put this corset in here? I just want to be comfortable,” she complained over the top of the curtain.And not go bankrupt.
“And I just want you to show off your assets while being comfortable,” Sesame insisted. “One does not have to be exclusive of the other. Your brand doesn’t have to be First Thing I Found on the Floor.”
“I like this girl,” Jasmine called from somewhere in the store. “Is it the champagne talking, or are these distressed mom-jean shorts made for me?”
“Made. For. You,” Sesame insisted. “Add a pair of tights, and you can wear them all fall too.”
So far they’d accomplished a lot of shopping and very little girl-talking. Riley yanked the sweater over her head. “Where’d the rest of it go?” she demanded, looking in the mirror.
Behind her, the curtain whipped open, and Sesame and Jasmine peered over her shoulder at her reflection.
“It’s a crop top,” Sesame explained.
“A hot crop, Ry. Look at your boobs.”
Her boobs did look decent framed in the square neckline. But there was no hem to tuck into jeans, no extra fabric in the back to hide her butt.
“The boobs are fine. But look at my butt.”
“Oh, I am,” Jasmine said. She made a growly noise and playfully swiped at Riley with invisible claws.
“You canseemy butt.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Sesame said.
“There’s cellulite there. And it’s bigger than it should be.”
“Everyone has cellulite, and why are you letting someone else tell you your butt is too big?” Sesame demanded.
“Griffin used to leave liposuction brochures in my underwear drawer,” Riley said.
Sesame frowned. “Who the hell is this Griffin, and how long would it take before someone noticed he was missing?”
