Lavender Lipstick Lies: A Mystery of Makeup & Mayhem Read Free Page A

short corridor that
led to a gorgeously decorated living room with one wall fashioned from
floor-to-ceiling windows. The view was incredible; a seemingly endless vista of
shimmering sand and mountains beyond the nearby cluster of glittering hotel
towers.
    “Wow!” I exclaimed, rushing across
the room and gazing through the glass. “This is truly dazzling! I don’t think
we’ve ever had such an incredible view of Vegas in all the years we’ve been
coming to the conference.”
    Bree kicked off her sandals and
plopped down on one of the overstuffed sofas. “It’s well worth the upcharge for
a suite,” she said, putting her feet on the edge of the coffee table. “We
deserve a little extra pampering, don’t you think?”
    Emma put her purse on the curved
marble bar near the soaring wall of windows. “Of course,” she said. “Especially
since our little group includes one of the three nominees for the Achiever
Award.” She glanced over and beamed at me. “Someone who totally deserves to
win, I might add.”
    Bree leaned back and closed her
eyes. “Well, maybe that’ll be me next year,” she said with a hint of sadness in
her voice. “I tried my hardest to make it, but I guess Abby’s a better image
consultant than everyone else. It’s just like when we were in school. Remember
that one headline from the local paper after you took top spot at the debate
tournament—‘Miss Abigail Miller Reigns Supreme’? And the home ec recipe
contest? And all the other things that you did better than the other girls?”
    The expression on her face was so
flat that I couldn’t tell if she was joking or being serious. I decided to let
it go, but Emma challenged her with a stern glare and sharp rebuke.
    “That wasn’t very nice,” she said.
“I hope you’re kidding, Bree.”
    The ghost of a smile appeared on
Bree’s face. “Do you even have to ask?” Her eyes popped open and she turned my
way. “I’m proud of you, Abby. You sold more product and enrolled more new
clients than me. Next year, I’ll work harder to do the same.”
    Emma sighed and shuffled toward the
three suitcases lined up against one wall. She raised the handle on her bag and
rolled it toward one of the three open bedroom doors.
    “If you don’t mind, I think it’s
time for a little siesta,” she said.
    Bree jumped up from the sofa. “I
agree. I want to check my email and call home before I take a shower.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” I said,
walking toward my luggage. “I think that daiquiri went right to my head. A
little nap sounds like a really good idea.”
    “And we may be up all night,” Emma
called from the door to her room. “We need to recharge our batteries and get
ready for whatever Vegas has to offer!”

Chapter 4
     
     
    An hour later, after calling several
clients back home in St. Louis and catching up briefly on the phone with my
mother, I slipped beneath a soothing stream of hot water in the marble-lined
bathroom’s spacious shower. Thick clouds of steam tumbled over the top of the frosted
glass enclosure as I used the lavish collection of complimentary organic shampoos,
body scrubs and fragrant gels to wash away the cares and concerns of the day.
    The bathroom smelled like a heady
whirl of coconut, papaya and cinnamon as I swayed under the deluxe rainfall
showerhead. It was the kind of fixture I’d always dreamed about having, even
though Robert and I made due with a standard setup in our modest suburban house. Luckily , I thought as the water pulsed against my skin, I can indulge
in a few extravagances this weekend. Who knows what will be waiting for me when
I get back home?
    After rinsing my hair and gently
washing my face with a special micro-exfoliating scrub that smelled like jasmine
and lemongrass, I turned off the water and reached for one of the plush pale
peach bath sheets. My plan was to dry off, climb into the sumptuous bed and
close my eyes for a few minutes of tranquil rest before it was time to leave
for