Trifecta by Kim Carmichael Read Free Book Online

head on Lauren's shoulder.  "I sell antibiotics and beg for prescriptions.  The staff only loves me if they're sick, and I can't even give away pens anymore."
    Lauren straightened up.  Aesthetics was the crown jewel of pharmaceutical sales.  "I am more of a practice consultant." 
    Anne faced her.  "So what went on at corporate?  Is everything okay?  You're so busy maybe they should split your territory."
    She mustered up a one sided smile.  "Raise and new title, sorry."
    Anne put her lower lip out.  "If you were celebrating last night, why didn't you invite me?" 
    They walked down the street.  "I wasn't celebrating."  Some would disagree. Her body would disagree.  The two orgasms she had with the two men she wanted since college would disagree.
    "Oh."  Anne patted her back.  "You had to fly, poor baby.  Well, it's better than your driving."
    "Driving in Los Angeles isn't easy." 
    "There's a reason for the saying nobody walks in LA.  You can't even parallel park." 
    She was going to remind Anne that she didn't have to parallel park, her company paid for valet parking and she wasn't required to troll for meters, but they stopped at the corner.  The corner.  The corner with the store.  "Oh my God." 
    Anne groaned.  "Let's go in and get it over with."
    She swallowed and glanced up at the golden letters that made out the store's logo teasing all the patrons of Rodeo drive to step inside and gaze at the unattainable.  "Jacques." 
    "Come on."  Anne tugged her.
    "I don't look right."  Maybe along with combing her hair she should have put on something other than a pair of jeans and Jason's t-shirt hidden by a black jacket.  She tilted her neck from side to side trying to relieve the tension.  For the ten seconds it took to talk about her job she didn't think about them, but she was certain if she held the shirt up to her nose it would smell like Jason's soap and Russell's cologne.
    "You look so bad that maybe they'll think you actually have money and they'll show you one of the purses."  Anne let go of her and opened the door.  "Leave your sunglasses on."
    The best part about walking over the gilded threshold was the scent of leather, silk and cash overpowered anything that would waft up from under her jacket. 
    Anne headed straight to the counter.
    "Wait."  Lauren lunged for her, trying not to make a scene.  Every time she came in here she felt like a five-ton elephant walking through a bakery asking for a cupcake.  Everyone knew she didn't belong, but no one would dare tell her.
    "We have to ask."  Anne slapped her hand down on the glass.
    A sales lady in a grey suit and wearing one of the store's impossible-to-get belts turned to her.  "Can I help you?"
    "My friend has a question."  Anne pointed to her.
    Lauren tensed, her body unable to carry her the three feet to the counter.  Her mouth dried out.
    "Miss Redmond."  Anne prodded.
    She straightened up and stepped forward glancing down at the bracelets, the small leather goods, and the pens all kept pristine behind glass.  Everything with the logo that told the world you didn't just make it, you really made it, or more likely your husband made it.  One had to go about asking for the purse in the right way.  There was a protocol. "May I see that pencil please?" 
    The sales person opened the case, took out the writing implement and handed it to her.
    She held the pencil emblazoned with the Jacques logo and a design definitive of this designer.  "Does this go through a normal sharpener?"
    The sales person nodded.
    She was about to ask if it were a number two pencil, but held back.  Only in this store would a pencil cost more than a hundred dollars, and she handed the pencil back.  "You know instead of this I would like to see a Valerie bag please." 
    Anne leaned over the counter.
    The sales woman pursed her lips.  "We have none in stock."
    "Liar."  Anne coughed.
    Anne had no fear and no filter, which was exactly why selling antibiotics