If Only You Knew Read Free Page B

she was gone. Keisha, who treated her standing first-Saturday six-hour appointment at Château Elan like it was a CIA stealth mission (details on what she was getting done were apparently top secret and known only at the highest levels), wouldbe none the wiser; she’d be too busy getting pampered to give a damn where her daughter was. Lauren had already worked through all the details, down to paying off the staff on the off chance that Keisha deigned to think about someone other than herself and actually, like, checked up on her daughter. Lauren went to sleep knowing that the hard part was going to be talking her mother into letting her crash her spa date.
    Luckily for Lauren, her period was due in only a few days, which meant that her skin was a hot mess. First thing Saturday morning, Lauren swiped a little Vaseline over the offending pimples to make her face look like an oil slick, then hobbled into the kitchen rubbing her lower back, knowing full well that Keisha, dressed impeccably and sipping her coffee, would take immediate note of her skin and back issues. “Oh, you’re already up,” Lauren said, feigning surprise and tossing in a yawn for good measure.
    â€œMy God, you look a wreck,” Keisha said, frowning between sips. “Did you fall into a jar of Crisco? And why are you walking like that?”
    Lauren sucked her teeth and threw in an eye-roll for good measure to play up her displeasure with her mother’s greeting. “Well, good morning to you, too,” she snarled.
    â€œI’m just saying—” Keisha started.
    â€œFor your information, my back is a little stiff from dancing at the game,” Lauren said. She sat across from her motherand moved only slightly to let Edwina place a cold glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in front of her. “It went into overtime, which meant we were dancing overtime.”
    â€œHmm,” Keisha said, eyeing the juice. “Well if you ask me, the last thing you need is that orange juice. “Unless, of course, you actually want more pimples and blackheads on your face. Yuck.”
    Lauren rolled her eyes again but pushed the orange juice away.
    â€œWell,” Keisha said sighing. “You know how sacred my spa appointment is. But it looks like today your back and face need a little bit more TLC than even mine do. Let me call over there and see what miracles they can work for you today.”
    Lauren said a silent “yes” and danced a jig, if only in her mind. “Aw, Mom, I know how you like to hit the spa solo; I don’t want to knock your hustle…”
    â€œOh, let’s be clear. You won’t be anywhere near me, little girl. Not after I slip into my robe, start sipping my green tea, and fall into the latest issue of domino. Trust, I don’t want to see your face until I’m about to pull out of the parking lot.”
    â€œI love you, too, Keish,” Lauren said, showing every last one of her pearly whites.
    â€œUh-huh. Now go shower and be quick about it. I can’t stand rushing, and I don’t want to be late,” Keisha said,looking at her Philip Stein Teslar timepiece. “Edwina, hand me the phone. I need to have them put some folks on standby for this child.”
    â€œThanks, Mom—you rock,” Lauren said, standing up from her chair and hugging Keisha from behind.
    Game on.
    Marquette? Marquita? Marcia? No matter how many times the facial chick had squeezed Lauren’s blackheads and buffed her skin to a high-gloss mahogany, Lauren still couldn’t remember her name. Had no reason to, until now. Because the facial chick was intent on giving Lauren a hard time about her escape plans, unlike the masseuse, who happily shoved Lauren’s fifty-dollar bill into her lab coat pocket and skipped the hell on for her unexpected but much-appreciated ninety-minute breakfast break.
    â€œBut I’m being paid to give you your signature facial,” Facial