Page 6 of Fire

“With your mother’s coloring and the graceful cut of the fabric, I think it will suit her perfectly.

“I agree,” Laura spoke up. “And coral is so in this year.”

Gwen saw Juliette roll her eyes, but she didn’t say anything else until Laura slipped on the dress. “See. It’s hideous. Mother, I don’t know why you keep insisting on coming here. At the very least, ask for a new salesperson.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Laura said, not paying any attention to her daughter. She turned twinkling eyes Gwen’s direction, and they shared a secret smile. “I’ll take it.”

“I have others if you’d like to try them on.”

“No. As usual, my dear, you’ve—how do all the hip kids say it? Nailed it?”

Gwen laughed. “Yep, that works.”

“Oh, Mother, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Laura’s smile dimmed, and Gwen was quick to say, “I think it’s important to expand one’s vocabulary. It’s better than staying mentally stagnant your whole life.”

“Said the woman who probably didn’t go to college.” It was mumbled, but Gwen still heard Juliette’s snide reply.

She chose to ignore it—as she had in fact gone to college and had a degree to prove it.

Mrs. DeAngelo did not. “Juliette DeAngelo! Mind your manners. I raised you better than that.”

No, she really hadn’t.

Gwen heard an unladylike snort before she saw Juliette down the last of her champagne and stand. “Well, if you’re not going to take my advice, I’ll be in the men’s department. Franco has a birthday next week. I think I’ll buy him a tie. Maybe if he’s good, I’ll give it to him.” She flounced out in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

“Sorry about that,” Laura said after Juliette left. “I do love her but sometimes she...”

Gwen placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about it.” Then thinking it prudent to change the subject, she said, “Let’s find you a pair of shoes to go with this dress.”

Almost two hours later, Sheila found Gwen in the breakroom, slouched in a chair, nursing a bottle of water. An empty Advil wrapper lay discarded on the table in front of her.

As easy as it had been finding Laura a dress, it had been that difficult finding her the right shoes. Then Juliette had made a reappearance, spreading her brand of happiness. Her victim? Emily. Who was new to Coleman’s and had yet to grow a thick skin. Juliette had reduced her to tears—literally.

“That bad, huh?” Sheila plopped herself in the chair across from her.

“You might be looking for a new employee for ladies’ shoes.”

Sheila raised a brow.

“Juliette got to Emily,” Gwen explained.

Sheila sagged in her seat, bowing her back until her forehead thunked against the table. She mumbled something under her breath that Gwen didn’t catch.

“What was that?”

Sheila raised her head. “I was chanting a curse, Harry Potter style. Only, you know, without the wand or the scar.”

“But you do have a nice red mark on your forehead now.” At Sheila’s weak smile, she added, “Hey, look on the bright side. If she doesn’t quit, you know you have a keeper.”

“True.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost five. Why don’t you head out.”

“Okay.” She didn’t need to be told twice.

After gathering her stuff, Gwen took the elevator down to the employee lot and made her way to her car.

With her air-conditioning turned to full blast and radio blaring alternative rock, she drove Laurel Canyon over the hill into Studio City. In rush-hour traffic, the ten-mile drive to her apartment took forty minutes.

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