Page 38 of Come Back to Me

“You want to come with, Parker?”

“Nah. I have some work to do. But I want pictures!”

“You got it.” Zee peers at the tablet. “Speak later, Parker.”

“Peace out.”

Once the call ends, Zee tucks the tablet into her tote and Chief Sasquatch steps over to us. “Excuse me, ladies, but it’s store policy to check our client’s purses from time to time. I’m sure you understand that we can never be too careful.”

Zee barks out a laugh as I gape at the assistant.

“Sasquatch, are you for real?!”

(This woman’s face needs to meet my fist. Stat.)

“Sas-what?!” the snooty store attendant shrieks.

(Unfortunately, I’m a law-abiding citizen. Dagnabbit.)

“You’re doing a random bag check on us—I think I can insult you as much as I damn well please. Damn audacity,” I grouse before declaring for the whole store to hear: “It’s not as if there’s anything worth buying in this damn hellhole anyway. Those dresses are so last season, and you’re selling them as if they’re hot off the catwalk.

“But sure, treat me like a criminal when you’re the thieves.” Without waiting for a reply, I upend my purse and let everything fall out then waggle it until it’s empty. I study the mini mountain of crap as if it’s the most interesting pile of trash I ever did see. “What do you think, Zee? Did I steal those red heels you liked? The ones that were two years off the runway and from the brand that got canceled last year?”

“No, Tee, I don’t see anything in there at all,” she simpers.

I pick up my wallet, the lip gloss, and chewing gum I stored in there as well as the notepad I use to jot chords as and when they strike alongside my favorite pebble of rubellite, but the rest, I leave on the floor because, admittedly, it’s mostly empty wrappers.

“Your things!” the woman stutters once Zee holds open her tote that’s fully loaded with the shit she needs on the daily to manage her Type-1 diabetes.

“Oh, it’s fine. I needed a clear out anyway,” I drawl. With that, I slide my arm through Zee’s. “Come on, honey, let’s go drop some mega bucks where the attendants make the ones inPretty Womanlook polite.”

As we stride toward the exit, the security guard shoots me an amused glance as he opens the door and gently wafts us out.

Not rudely, but like we truly are Athena and Artemis.

“I think he shared our opinion of her,” Zee derides as we stalk down the sidewalk like the Witches of Bitchwick we are.

“Damn straight.”

“Though, you shouldn’t have left that stuff on the floor.”

“Nah, it was mostly tissues, junk food wrappers, and lots of other crap I should have tossed out ages ago.”

“Ew.”

“Exactly,” I say around a chuckle, grinning at her when she pinches my arm.

“God, I’m glad you’re here, Tee. Only you’d have the guts to do that.”

“Good thing I’m not regular.”

She sighs in delight as she snuggles into me. “Yeah, thank fuck you’re abnormal. Now, come on, Joan Rivers. We have a closet to fill.”

Grinning at the comparison, I tug on her arm. “It’s okay if you change your mind, you know?”

“About what? The PR stuff with Colt?” She shrugs. “I know.”

“Then why are you going ahead if you hate it?”

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