“Okay, who needs champagne?” June asks, holding her own hand up in the air.
“Me, I do!” Lori sing-songs, waving her hand in the air, her collection of bangles and bracelets jingling on her wrist.
“Oh…” I shift awkwardly. “I… I don’t really drink. Just water is fine for me.”
“I got you, baby,” June says with a wink before disappearing through a door.
“Take a seat, cutie pie,” Lori says, patting the space next to her on the plush sofa. “You are about to bepampered, mmkay.”
I take a seat, but I can’t relax, my eyes flitting about the store, trying to get a read on the garments hanging on the racks. I’m worried because both Lori and June are standard sized women, and I am absolutely not. I really don’t feel like being humiliated again today.
“Honey, what’s wrong? You look worried,” Lori says, and then she reaches out a hand and unexpectedly runs the pad of her thumb over the skin between my eyebrows a few times. “You have a crease!”
I gently push her hand away, lowering my voice, “Are you… sure we’re going to be able find something here, in my…size?”
Lori rears back, incredulous at my question. “Honey, you are in a safe space here. Juney bug doesn’t dosizes. She’s all about vibes, and I have no doubt in my mind or my heart that she willhave you looking so damn fine, Brookes won’t be able to keep those big man hands of his off you tonight.”
“Oh…” I say slowly, taken aback. “I-I thought you knew. Brookes and I… we’re not really…together.”
“Yet.” Lori offers me an exaggerated wink.
I deadpan.Oh God.
“Baby girl—” Lori holds her hand to her chest as she continues, “I could never have children of my own. We tried. But between my uncooperative ovaries and Jonesy’s old-ass balls, it just never happened.”
I refrain from wincing at the thought of Jonesy’s… balls, trying not to laugh while also feeling terrible for Lori. “Oh, Lori, I’m… I’m sorry.”
She waves a dismissive hand at my apology. “That boy is like a son to me.Andto Jonesy. And I have been waiting years for this very moment, mkay. And I’m sorry to tell you this, but I am not about to go down without a fight.”
My eyebrows draw together, because I have no idea what she’s talking about. Waiting for this moment? A fight? What is going on? But, before I can question her, we’re interrupted by June floating back through the door carrying a tray of drinks, closely followed by a small team of whom I assume are her employees, all three of them carrying dresses and shoes and purses.
I take the glass of sparkling water from the tray she placed on the small coffee table, suddenly wishing I did drink as I take a sip.
“Okay, so I’m thinking a children’s charity, we want color, we want fun!” June exclaims, throwing her hands around all excitedly. “We want maybe a little bit of titty but not too much.”
I choke on my mouthful of water, coughing as the bubbles burn my throat.
Lori doesn’t miss a beat, however, reaching around and smacking my back as she agrees with June, nodding. “Classy bit of a titty and ass never hurt no one.”
Oh. My. God.
Turns out, Lori Jones is a whole-ass vibe. A fifty-two-year-old retired Las Vegas cocktail waitress, she married Jonesy, who is thirty years older than her, after knowing him for twenty-four hours. Now she spends her days shopping, luxuriating at day spas, lunching with her girlfriends, playing golf really bad and cramping her husband’s style (according to Jonesy, apparently) and just being beautiful and fabulous in every way. And, after spending the afternoon together, I’m kind of her biggest fan now. I adore her.
“I should probably get going,” I say as we walk out of the salon where I just spent more money than I earned in a week at Vista Palms on a damn blowout. Tucking Brookes’ credit card back into my purse, I can’t help but wince. “Brookes is going to kill me…”
“Honey, that is a black Amex.” Lori nudges me. “Do you know what that even means?”
I shake my head because I really don’t.
She snorts a laugh. “It means you do not need to worry your pretty little head over it, okay?”
We continue walking up the sidewalk, back in the direction of Brookes’ Range Rover when Lori stops me suddenly, her smile turning mischievous, almost devious.
“W-what?” I ask, genuinely confused and a little nervous if I’m honest.
“Come with me,” she says, grabbing my hand and nodding her head for me to follow.
And it’s only then that I realize we’re outside of Bellamy’s.
