No Such Thing as a Secret: A Brandy Alexander Mystery (No Such Thing As...A Brandy Alexander Mystery) by Shelly Fredman Read Free Book Online

Land. She really made me want to puke.
    “Couldn’t be better.” I casually draped my arm over the bar for support. “So, how have you been?”
    “Great,” she gushed. “Did you know that Terrence and I have just had our second?” Their second what? I must have looked puzzled, because she clarified right away. “Our second baby. Another girl. Terrence says she’s the image of her mommy.” Oh goody, Spawn of She-Devil.
    “Congratulations. You must be very happy.” All of a sudden I had to pee, really badly. I straightened myself up and prepared to walk away. “Well, Mindy, it was terrific seeing you—”
    “So, have you seen Bobby since you’ve been back?” Shit.
    “No, I haven’t. Listen, Paul’s waiting for me. I really have to go.”
    “Of course,” she said, with a smug little smile. I wanted to slap it right off her face. “I imagine it’s still hard for you.”
    “You can imagine anything you want, Mindy,” I said, through a smile of my own. “Personally, I don’t have time to reflect on other people’s lives. I’m too busy living one of my own.”
    She stared at me, open mouthed, as I spun around cross-legged and hobbled off to the Ladies’ Room. Half way across the club I could hear Franny snickering.
    “Bran-dee! Bran-dee!” The crowd was chanting my name as I exited the bathroom. While I was in there I tried to gussy up a little. The only time I ever wear make-up is when I’m on-air. But after my run-in with Mindy, I decided it wouldn’t kill me to look a little more presentable. I ran into Janine coming out of one of the stalls.
    “Hey, lemme have some mascara, ‘k?”
    “Sure. You feeling okay?”
    “Swell. How ‘bout some lip gloss?”
    Janine searched her pocketbook. “Nope, no lip gloss. But how about this?” She held up a tube of blood red lipstick to the light.
    “Perfect.” I began to apply it to my mouth, making big red loops that extended far beyond my lip lines.
    “Here, let me do that. You look like Lucy Ricardo.” Janine grabbed the lipstick out of my hand. “Now,” she said, appraising her handiwork, “What are we going to do with your outfit?”
    I looked down at my jeans and sweater. They seemed fine to me. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
    “Nothing, if you’re going camping with the girl scouts. But you’re a rock and roll princess, now. You’ve got to look the part.” She reached into her huge black bag and extracted a tube top that wouldn’t fit a Barbie doll. “Here, put this on.”
    “Janine! I couldn’t squeeze my neck through this thing, let alone the rest of me!”
    She gave me a withered look. “Brandy, you have been wearing jeans and a t-shirt since you were seven. It’s time to branch out. Now get in there and change, and then we’ll figure out what to do with your hair.”
    Ten minutes later I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Florescent lighting not withstanding, I looked good! Janine had somehow managed to tease my poker straight hair into some kind of “do”. My bangs flopped lazily across my forehead, emphasizing my eyes. She had gone a little overboard with the eyeliner, which gave me a weird, sort of Vampira look, and the tube top clung to my chest like a second skin. All in all the effect was rather sexy. I smiled coquettishly in the mirror. Damn, I’m hot .
    I strolled confidently out the door, unaware that a long strand of toilet paper had attached itself to the heel of my shoe. Some people are born to nerdiness, while others have it thrust upon them. In my case, it’s a little of both.
    “What you want, Baby I’ve got it. What you need, do you know I got it,
    All I’m askin’ is for a little respect.”
    The band was on fire! We’d torn through all the old standards and thought we’d end the set with Aretha. The audience, made up mostly of neighbors and long time friends, responded with wildly enthusiastic hoots and hollers, calling out our names, begging for encore after encore. That last