Brittany and I sat on one seat in the small limo, facing Bruce on the other. I was still half numb. The driver had recommended going to the Valley Fair Mall — a large shopping center not too far from our hotel.
“Great,” I said. “Whatever.”
Bruce shot me a searching look. I turned away and looked out the window.
The driver dropped us off in front of a main entrance and said he would park under the shade of the buildings to wait for us. When we called, he’d return to that entrance within minutes.
“Hope you have a book to read.” I slid from the limo as the driver held open the door. “We’ll probably be awhile.”
He shrugged. “That’s what you hired me for.”
At the door to the mall I took a deep breath. Thoughts of Tom and the white rose pulsed in my head. I craved distraction. I wanted those thoughts out of my brain.
“Brittany, we’re going to have a good time, right?”
She nodded firmly. “Right.”
Inside the mall we stopped at an information map, checking out store locations. I ran my finger down the list of women’s stores. Near the top — Abercrombie and Fitch.
Brittany grinned. “Let’s go.”
The mall was crowded. We wove through shoppers, Bruce on my right and Brittany on my left. Every now and then Bruce would slowly run his thumb and fingers down his goatee — a habit that made him look even more formidable. Anyone who noticed our trio was eyeing him, not me in my black wig. Bruce was hard to miss.
Brittany’s cell phone kept going off. Mine too. The calls were from friends at home who’d heard the news, asking if we were okay. And pumping us for information. The very thing we came to forget for a while, we couldn’t seem to get away from. We answered the questions quickly—yeah, we’re okay, thanks for checking — and said we had to go. Brittany’s mom called too.
“Yes, Mom, we’re fine,” Brittany told her. “We’re shopping and being guarded by the biggest guy you ever saw in your life.”
Bruce heard but didn’t crack a smile. His eyes roamed the wide mall, watching people. Sometimes I think he has a computer for a brain, and every face he sees goes into a data file.
We bought a couple of shirts at Abercrombie. The hot guy behind the counter (they’re always hot at that store) flicked a look at me when he saw the name on my credit card. I was prepared to give my typical disclaimer response — oh, yeah, I share the name of a famous person—but he said nothing.
All the same, when we left that store, I threw a look back at him. The guy was on his cell phone, staring at me. He blinked away.
“Something wrong?” Bruce didn’t break stride, but I saw the tension in his muscles.
I hesitated. So what if the clerk recognized me? He hadn’t made a scene.
“Guess not.”
I didn’t dare look back again. Apprehension hovered about me like a cold fog. The way that sales guy looked at me while he was on the phone …
No. We were here to have fun. I would not think about it.
Brittany and I headed for the Savvy section in Nordstrom.
We ended up trying on one pair of designer jeans after another, plus a whole stack of tops. For every piece of clothing, we checked each other with a critical eye. Only pure honesty works when we’re shopping. No point in saying something looks great if it doesn’t.
“The color’s perfect for you.”
“Those jeans make you look really skinny.”
“Well, it’s just okay.”
“Uh-uh. That shirt looks better on the hanger.”
Bruce hung around outside the dressing room, probably scaring half the customers to death. More than once I heard his deep voice say to some inquiring sales person, “I’m just waiting for two girls in there. They’re trying on every piece of clothing in the place.”
I told Brittany I’d buy her whatever she wanted. Mom’s accountant would take care of paying my monthly credit card bill without even blinking. Mom never cared how much I spent.
We didn’t exactly buy out the store, but we did get three pairs of designer jeans each, plus a total of fifteen tops. Bruce offered to carry the bags (he already held the one from Abercrombie), but we said, “No thanks.” It wasn’t really fair to make him lug around all that stuff. I shoved my purse on my shoulder and took two bags, giving Brittany the third.
Bruce stroked his beard, then made a point of looking at his watch as we walked away from the cash register. “You two done yet? You’ve worn me out.”
Brittany made a tsss sound. “Worn you out? We’re the ones who had to try on everything.” She gave him a look, trying to coax a smile out of him. He just flicked his eyes at the ceiling and sighed.
“Where to next?” I asked as we crossed out of Nordstrom into the busy mall.
That’s when I heard my name called — and saw the first flash go off.