Layers by TL Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

professional personal shopper?”
    
“Hmm, that’s an idea,” I say as my eyes close.
    She taps my shoulder and I open one weary eye. “What?”
    “You were saying…an idea?”
    
“Oh. Sorry, it’s a great idea. You don’t happen to know any professional personal shoppers, do you?”
    Jules grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “You’re joking right?”
    I laugh. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
    “I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
    “Call your partner in crime and I’ll hand over my Amex.”
    “Only if you insist.”
    “Oh I do, I insist.”
    “How did Marco and I get so lucky? I mean really. How many girls do you know, have a best friend who’s loaded and fuckin’ hates to shop.”
    “Not a one.” I grumble. “Just go and drop till you shop.”
    “It’s shop till you drop.”
    “Maybe for you.”
    “This is the best thing that’s happened to me in months.” Jules huffs.
    “That’s just fucking sad.”
    “Maybe for you.”
    “I have some rules.”
    She frowns.
    “Only two.”
    “Two I can do.”
    I hold up a finger. “One: buy yourselves something fabulous.”
    She grins. “I like that rule.”
    “I knew you would.” I hold up a second finger. “Two: If there is no way in hell I’ll ever wear it, don’t buy it.”
    “We know your style. It’s…well, not the most stylish, but we’re professionals darling. Don’t you worry; you’ll look kick ass. I’m so pumped.” She squeals, like a teenager high on Mountain Dew Voltage. “I can’t freakin’ wait!”
    She sits up, grabs her bag then gets out her iPhone. She scrolls her calendar. “Hot, damn! I have no court this afternoon. I’ll text Marco and we’ll meet for lunch and map everything out.”
    “You’re going to make a map?”
    “Of course. Hello!”
    “Hey, I’m not a fellow fashion-ho. I don’t know these things.”
    “That’s why you have us professional shoppers. We downloaded the professional shoppers app last night.”
    And you didn’t want to be presumptuous—girlfriend.
    “There’s a shopping app?”
    
“Honey there’s an app for everything.”
    “I guess.” Who the hell needs an app to shop?
    Jules chuckles and shakes her head.
    “What’s so amusing?”
    “I was just remembering the app that came with my cliterator.”
    “What the fuck is a cliterator?”
    Jules lies down and starts pointing at her girly part. “It’s a vibrator that you attach…”
    I put my hand over hers, stopping her demonstration. “Never mind. I think I can figure it out.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. Very. Carry on.”
    
“Okay, so I bought a new cliterator then downloaded its app. The app was supposed to allow you or your partner discrete wireless vibrating control.”
    “You said supposed ? I’m guessing it didn’t work.”
    “No, it definitely worked.”
    “Okay. I think.”
    She shakes her head. “I’ll start at the beginning.”
    “That a good place to start.”
    She rolls her eyes. “Smart ass.”
    “That’s me. Please continue.”
    “Okay, I was hired to mediate a settlement for the Bensons, Mark and Carrie—a divorce attorney’s nightmare. They drove me fucking nuts. They argued and fought over everything. EVERYTHING! For example—they debated for two hours over the cost of damn dog care. They tried to calculate the cost of the care by the amount of time they each spent with their pug, George. It went on and on. He took out his calculator, she took out hers—yada, yada, yada. After one hour I was spacing, and all but nodded off.”
    “Were they accountants?”
    “No, doctors.”

    I laugh. “So what happened to poor George?”
    “In the end they decided they would set timers for each visit, then calculated the cost by the hour.” She rolls her eyes.
    “Poor Ralph. So what about the app and the cliterator?”
    “I’m getting there.” She takes a breath. “After the dog argument I insisted that we take a time out. I needed a nap, three shots of tequila or a Red Bull.