Lavender Lipstick Lies: A Mystery of Makeup & Mayhem

  Lavender Lipstick Lies

  Mary Maxwell

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  © 2015 Mary Maxwell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recorded or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

  Chapter 1

  “Welcome to Las Vegas!” I cheered as our flight from St. Louis touched down on a sunny Thursday afternoon. “We’re going to have the time of our lives!”

  With my two best friends beside me and one cheating husband hundreds of miles away at home, I was determined to make the weekend trip to the Splendora Beauty Convention the beginning of my new Happily Ever After.

  It was the fifth year in a row that Emma, Bree and I were attending the national meeting for the cosmetics empire. We’d started as Splendora image consultants at the same time, and the annual conference had become a tradition. Despite everything that had happened that morning, I was determined to keep up appearances. After all, if I was a soon-to-be single woman, I’d need to continue building my business with the tips and techniques presented during the three days ahead.

  “It will be the time of our lives!” Emma echoed. “And the best convention yet!”

  Bree nodded excitedly and squeezed my hand. “Especially when you win Achiever of the Year, Abby,” she squealed. “I’ve got a feeling that’s exactly what will happen at the banquet on Saturday night!”

  We discussed the weekend ahead as the plane made its way to the terminal. Once we collected our luggage and boarded the shuttle bus, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Dinner tonight is my treat!” I said. “I’m so lucky to have such good friends at a time like this. I want you both to know how grateful I am!”

  Emma cooed lightly. “Oh, sweetie. We’re here for you!”

  “Well, I couldn’t do it without you,” I said, reflecting on the enduring friendships that started years before in high school. “We’re three of the luckiest women in the world.”

  “Absolutely,” Bree agreed. “Together forever—through thick and thin!”

  “I actually thought you might cancel on us,” Emma said with a frown. “After the horrible stunt that your husband pulled, it’s a wonder you’re not wallowing in an ocean of tears right now.”

  “Well, I considered staying home to sort things out,” I said as a vision from earlier in the day shuddered through my mind. “But then I realized that I didn’t want to hear Robert protest his innocence one more time, especially when the proof was right there before my eyes. It seemed like a good idea to carry on with my plans and give us both some time to think about everything.”

  I still couldn’t believe what had happened that morning. As we’d agreed, Emma and Bree came by to pick me up at six o’clock. I’d prepared coffee and buttery white chocolate cinnamon scones—another ritual that started with our first Splendora conference—and we’d laughed and talked while Robert ate his breakfast. After leaving at seven and heading for our flight, Bree suddenly realized she’d left our airline tickets on my kitchen counter. Emma quickly turned her car around, raced back to the house and pulled into the driveway beside an unfamiliar bright red convertible.

  Only twenty minutes had passed, but I was stunned and horrified when I walked through the front door to find my husband standing in our living room with a buxom blonde dressed in slinky black satin lingerie. As I gawked in disbelief, the stranger suddenly grabbed her trench coat and darted out the door. Even though Robert stammered a repentant explanation, I left a moment later after reminding him that he’d just come close to shattering the vow of faithfulness from our wedding six years earlier.

  As I reflected on the sickening betrayal, my heart began pounding furiously and beads of sweat glistened on my forehead. A series of blurred images flashed in my mind: Robert and the blonde together in our home; the sound of her laugh when she saw my face; the seemingly nonsensical explanation my husband quickly offered. I was feeling utterly overwhelmed by a swirl of emotions when I sensed someone tapping my arm.

  “Are you thinking about him again?” Bree asked gently as the shuttle bus left the airport.

  I blinked away the terrible vision and fixed my eyes on her sweet grin. “What gives you that idea?”

  “The sad look on your face,” she said in a warm, consoling tone. “Your smile just vanished in a heartbeat.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I was thinking about Robert,” I confessed. “How can I not?”

  “It’s a natural reaction when the man of your dreams becomes your worst nightmare,” Emma said. “The same thing happened to a woman who lives down the street from me. Leslie left the office early one day because of a migraine, and she walked in on her husband with his ex-girlfriend!”

  “That’s horrible,” I said. “And now, unfortunately, I know how it feels. I obviously interrupted them before things got hot and heavy, but it sure looked like he was getting ready to cheat on me.”

  Bree looped one arm around my shoulders. “We’re right here by your side,” she said. “And don’t you worry; we’ll make sure you have the best weekend ever! You can deal with Robert and his two-faced ways when you get back home on Sunday night.”

  I managed a weak smile and nodded in agreement. As the shuttle bus inched through traffic toward the hotel, I joined in as Emma and Bree made a list of the things we’d do after the daily Splendora meetings.

  “How about some time in the spa?” I suggested.

  “That’s a great idea,” Bree agreed. “A nice relaxing massage would be perfect.”

  “I’d like to try roulette for the first time!” Emma announced. “And I heard the Chippendales revue at the Rio is worth every penny!”

  Bree blushed. “I’m not so sure Gregory would like me ogling a bunch of half-naked studs,” she said modestly.

  Emma laughed and glanced around. “Well, I don’t see him anywhere,” she giggled. “And you know what they say about Vegas!”

  As we continued snickering and planning for the weekend, I heard a raspy voice over my shoulder making snide remarks. When I turned to look, I saw Delia Broome, another Splendora consultant from St. Louis. For some reason, even though she and Emma were friendly, Delia had always treated me with disdain whenever our paths crossed at the local company meetings. And now that I had been nominated for the annual Achiever of the Year Award, it seemed she was glaring at me with greater intensity than ever before. I smiled and gave her a wave, but she smirked and turned away.

  “Don’t look now,” I whispered to Emma and Bree. “But my nemesis is a couple of rows behind us.”

  Emma swiveled her head quickly before turning back at me. “She’s not your archenemy, Abby. She’s just jealous that you have two of the most beautiful best friends in the world!”

  Another chorus of our cheerful laughter filled the air as the bus arrived at the hotel. Since we were sharing a three-bedroom suite, I offered to stand in the long line of guests at the front desk.

  “Why don’t you let me do that?” Emma suggested. “As slowly as they’re checking people in, it may take an hour to get our room keys. You two should go outside and have something cool to drink by the pool. The bellhop can take our luggage upstairs, and I’ll meet you outside as soon as I finish with registration, okay?”

  “Are you sure?”
I asked.

  She gave me a playful shove. “Go on! Get out and soak up the sunshine while you’ve got the chance! Since we arrived a day early, we should take advantage while we can!”

  Bree grabbed my elbow. “I’m in favor of that idea!” she said brightly. “I saw a particularly cute guy heading that way a second ago.”

  “Well, doesn’t that figure?” an icy voice rasped behind us.

  I turned to find Delia staring daggers at me again.

  “One just caught her husband cheating, and the other conveniently forgot that she’s married,” the slender redhead snapped. “You’re like two immoral peas in a pod.”

  Without missing a beat, I flashed a big smile. “Welcome to Las Vegas!” I said in my friendliest tone. “Are you ready for another great convention?”

  She sneered, raising one eyebrow. “You won’t be quite so happy when someone else is crowned Achiever of the Year,” she hissed. “Or when I tell everyone that your fairy tale marriage crumbled to dust this morning!”

  Chapter 2

  “What did you say?” My heart lurched in my chest as I spun around.

  Delia fluttered her pitch-black false eyelashes. “You heard me,” she purred coldly. “I know all about Robert and his early morning mystery date.”

  I stared at her silently as my knees trembled wildly.

  “From the dish I heard,” Delia added, “your husband’s new girlfriend is a pretty blonde with an hourglass figure.” She brushed a few stray locks of crimson hair from her eyes. “And I don’t think the Splendora Board of Directors will be too thrilled to hear that news, Abby. You know that they don’t like the Achiever of the Year to be tarnished with anything tawdry or scandalous!”

  A million thoughts raced through my mind as Delia finished her statement with a megawatt grin before turning around and parading through the lobby on her blood-red high heels.

  “What was that about?” Bree said.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” I sputtered.

  Bree frowned. “Well, how on earth would she know about Robert already?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea,” I said sadly, not wanting to speculate. “But I think it’s safe to say that Delia Broome plays by her own rules. She’s been nominated four times for Achiever of the Year, and hasn’t won yet. I think she’s more than a little bitter about that. Maybe her strategy for this conference is taking things to a whole new level of mean just to spoil my nomination.”

  With a nervous chuckle and concerned look, Bree led the way to the pool. We walked around the shimmering azure water to a large covered seating area near the bar. It was early afternoon; dozens of guests were frolicking in the water and soaking up the warm sun beneath the cloudless desert sky.

  “Let’s wait in the shade for Emma,” I suggested. “I don’t want to overdo the sun on the first day.”

  “Sounds smart,” Bree said. “Do you want to sit at the bar?”

  I glanced around until I spotted an empty table with an umbrella near a pair of potted palms. “How about there?”

  “Perfect,” Emma agreed. “I’ll go order our drinks and meet you in a sec. What would you like?”

  “A strawberry daiquiri would be great,” I said. “It’s what I had the first time I came to Vegas. It’s kind of my signature nostalgic drink whenever I visit now.”

  “That sounds tasty!” Bree said. “Two strawberry daiquiris coming right up!”

  As I settled into a chair under the wide striped umbrella, the warm breeze caressed my face. I leaned back and closed my eyes, but the shocking image of my husband standing in our living room raced through my mind again.

  “Get a grip, Abby,” I whispered to myself. “You’re a strong woman. Everything will work out, one way or—”

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” said a deep voice, interrupting my thought.

  I opened my eyes to find a breathtakingly handsome man standing beside my chair. He was dressed in the hotel’s front desk uniform—green vest, starched white shirt, pleated black pants—and he was holding a white envelope in his hand.

  “Are you Abigail Miller?”

  He flashed a bright smile that perfectly accented his piercing blue eyes.

  The question caught me off guard. I didn’t know exactly how to answer, so I settled for a quick nod.

  “This is for you, ma’am.” He held out the envelope. “It was delivered to the concierge desk earlier.”

  I took the envelope and thanked the man. As he walked away, my mind reeled as I studied the front: MISS ABIGAIL MILLER. Two things struck me instantly about the strange delivery. First, someone had used my maiden name to address the envelope. The last time anyone called me Abigail Miller was when Bree, Emma and I picked up their bridesmaid dresses together. These days, I was Mrs. Robert Edison, and my friends called me Abby. The second thing that I noticed was that my name was printed in what I instantly recognized as Splendora Beauty’s most popular shade of lipstick: Lyrically Luscious Lavender.

  Without hesitating any longer, I quickly opened the envelope, pulled out a sheet of folded paper and read the message that was crudely printed in the same soft violet hue:

  Winning comes at a very high price.

  Beware the Achiever banquet on Saturday night.

  My heart began pounding all over again as I stared at the threatening note. I didn’t recognize the handwriting. And there were no other telltale clues as to the sender’s identity. But the alarming missive sent icy chills skittering down my back, leaving me feeling vulnerable and jumpy. I quickly glanced around; the outdoor pool area looked harmless and tranquil—cheerful guests lounging in the sun, a coterie of attractive hotel employees serving drinks and snacks, a smattering of kids playing together beneath the watchful eyes of a lifeguard.

  And then I saw Bree heading toward the table. She was smiling broadly and carrying two curvy hurricane glasses filled with bright red frozen cocktails. Each drink was bedecked with a glistening strawberry and a frilly pink umbrella. At first, I considered telling her about the strange note. But then I looked at her carefree grin and decided to keep the unsettling development to myself. There were hundreds of Splendora representatives at the conference and it was entirely possible that one misguided attendee was pulling a prank to try and force me to withdraw from the Achiever of the Year competition. It had happened once before three years ago, so I quickly hid the note in my purse just as Bree arrived at the table.

  “I told the bartender to skip the frou-frou,” she giggled, putting the daiquiris and two wrapped straws on the table. “But he said it was hotel policy.”

  I plucked the pink decoration from my glass, removed the paper sleeve from a straw and took a tiny sip. The frosty, fruity concoction was perfect. As the icy mixture melted in my mouth, I felt the tension in my body begin to fall away.

  “I wonder how Emma’s doing in there.” Bree gestured across the expansive landscaped pool area toward the glass doors leading to the lobby. “That was really sweet of her to volunteer for the long wait at the front desk.”

  “It was,” I said. “But isn’t that just like her? She’s always doing nice things for everyone.”

  Bree sampled her drink. “You’re exactly right,” she said. “And I can’t decide who’s sweeter—Emma or this awesome daiquiri!”

  Chapter 3

  While swimmers splashed in the pool and a seemingly endless parade of slim, stylish men and women passed our table, Bree and I enjoyed our drinks and relaxed from the flight. As the tension in my shoulders lessened, I found it easier to sweep away thoughts of Robert’s betrayal. Since our marriage had been otherwise perfect, the inexplicable twist of fate that I’d witnessed in our living room was making it even more difficult to think that my handsome husband could suddenly transform from a loyal, loving mate into a loathsome, deceitful monster.

  “Why are you frowning, hon?”

  I glanced up. Bree was leaning forward in her chair on the far side of the table.

  “If you keep it up,” she added, �
�not even Splendora’s Wrinkles Away will make a dent in the creases I see on your forehead right now.”

  My lips found the strength to form a blithe grin. “I’m fine, okay?”

  “Are you trying to convince me?” she asked. “Or yourself?”

  I sipped my drink. “I’m sorry, Bree. I don’t want to be a downer on this trip.”

  “No, no!” she gushed. “I’m not asking for an apology. I just hate seeing you so sad.”

  “I’ll second that emotion,” I said, raising my glass. “Here’s to three days of learning, laughter and—”

  “Ladies on the loose!” Emma chimed in, suddenly appearing between the two potted palms beside our table. She’d stopped at the bar for a drink and slipped into the chair between Bree and I. “We’re all checked in, the luggage is upstairs and we have an eight o’clock dinner reservation at the French restaurant on the top of the hotel.”

  I glanced up at the glimmering row of gold-tinted windows thirty floors above the pool. Like all of the other plush resorts in Las Vegas, our hotel boasted a mouthwatering selection of fine restaurants along with an expansive casino, three different dance clubs for late night carousing and a row of exclusive shops offering everything from designer clothes and shoes to collectible works of art.

  “That’s perfect,” I said, smiling at Emma. “Thank you for taking care of those things.”

  “It was my pleasure,” she said, lightly touching the rim of her hurricane glass against mine and Bree’s. “Here’s to three hot women having three hot days of fun in the sun!”

  For the next hour, we lounged under the umbrella, sipping our cocktails, taking in the lively poolside action and chatting about our plans for the weekend. It really was the ideal respite from the chaos and confusion of the morning. As the sun blazed down from above and the potted palms danced in the breeze, I felt myself easing into the untroubled rhythm of the posh resort. Unfortunately, the mood was shattered a moment later when Bree turned to me with an unexpected query.