“We do,” the associate said. “And if you’re looking for something special, we also have the absolutely most delectable matching thong for a set.”
Bumble Bee tilted her head, considering the suggestion. “I do have a…hot date tonight.”
Maggie felt the words like a stab in the heart.
“Well, then,” the associate said, smiling conspiratorially, “you’ll definitely want something that feels good all night.”
Jo Ellen leaned closer. “Did you hear that?All night.”
“I heard it,” Maggie said. “I’m not deaf, I’m just old.”
The associate gestured toward the fitting rooms. “If you’d like to try it on, I can set you up in one of our larger rooms.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” Bumble Bee said. “I want to be comfortable. And confident.”
Maggie closed her eyes. “Well,” she said quietly, “good for her.”
“That’s it?” Jo Ellen hissed. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“What would you like me to say, Jo Ellen? That I hope she chafes?”
Jo Ellen considered that. “A little.”
They shuffled sideways as Bumble Bee disappeared behind a curtain. Jo Ellen craned her neck.
“Can we move closer without looking suspicious?” Jo Ellen asked.
“Pretty sure that ship has sailed, Jo.”
They repositioned near a display of robes—blessedly opaque—and pretended to examine the fabric.
“Hot date,” Jo Ellen whispered again. “That seals it.”
Maggie couldn’t argue.
The fitting room curtain rustled. Bumble Bee stepped out, fully dressed again, holding a small stack of items. The associate followed her toward the register.
“I’ll take these,” Bumble Bee said. “And, oh, use this card.” She laughed softly and handed over a silver card. “He’s paying.”
Jo Ellen gulped noisily. And all Maggie could think about was…the new secret debit card that Crista mentioned.
As the sales associate rang everything up, Bumble Bee stared at her phone, unaware her every move was being tracked.
“Have a wonderful evening,” the clerk said when she finished.
“Oh, I plan to,” Bumble Bee replied with a laugh. She turned, looking down, and walked straight into Maggie.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Bumble Bee said, stepping back. “My bad.”
Yes, you are bad, Maggie thought as she gave a death stare, looking right into her overly-made-up green eyes and down to her black soul.
The young woman returned a shaky smile, clearly intimidated. “Excuse me,” she whispered, sidestepping Maggie. “My car is here.”
As she sailed by and out the door, the words registered—her car?
Sharing a quick look, Maggie and Jo Ellen went straight after her, stepping outside just as the woman climbed into the backseat of a dark sedan.
“It’s an Uber,” Jo Ellen said. “We’ll never follow her now.”
