Coop touched the hostess on the shoulder, stopping her by a booth directly across from the makeup guru’s gathering.
“Is this booth reserved?” she asked. “Do you mind if we take this one?”
The hostess smiled warmly, her dark eyes welcoming. “Not at all. Please, have a seat.” She motioned for us to sit. I did so, and Higgs slid in next to me, with Coop sitting across from us as the hostess placed our menus on the table. “Gary will be right with you. Have a great evening!”
“That’s them,” Coop whispered from behind her menu.
“I’d have never guessed with all that glitter and lip gloss,” Higgs said on a chuckle.
I knocked his knee with mine and gave him my best stern nun’s look. “Quiet, funny man, and decide what you want for dinner. I’m starving, and I have no time to spare before I go into low-blood-sugar hangry.”
As if the waiter had read my mind, Gary appeared before us, smartly dressed in a cream and black polka dot bowtie and crisp white shirt with what certainly looked like a pained smile he’d plastered on his face to hide some sort of discomfort.
I watched his gaunt, bearded jaw tighten and his cheekbones hollow before he puffed them out and said, “Good evening, I’m Gary, and I’ll be your server. Can I get you all something to drink?”
As we placed our drink orders, I noticed the crowd of YT gurus getting louder, making poor Gary cringe. It was obvious there’d been a lot of drinking going on, judging by the two empty wine bottles on the table. Who knew how many they’d had before our arrival.
“They’re very loud,” Coop commented, putting her napkin in her lap. “I think they’re making Gary uncomfortable.”
“I think you’re right,” I whispered, watching from behind Higgs’s broad shoulder as the guru I think they called Ames Snarles pour the last of the wine and quite loudly comment his dissatisfaction because Gary hadn’t brought them another bottle.
“Gaaarrryyy! Garcon? Bring us more wine! Bring us more wine!” he bellowed sarcastically into the semi-full restaurant, using a fork and knife in each hand to bang on the table.
I saw Coop’s eyes widen, and I thought about how this was going to be another life lesson in fallen idols, but there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.
Unfortunately, being surrounded by humans meant she was subjected to this more often than not, and sometimes it was an effort to find the good in all the bad.
“That’s Ames Snarles, isn’t it, Coop? The guy you were telling me was beefing with Mitzy?”
She cupped her chin in her hand, her eyes downcast. “Yes,” was all she said in a stiff tone, and already I felt her disappointment.
“He does amazing makeup, Coop. He’s really good at it.”
She lifted her eyes to meet mine, her lips a thin line. “He also has an amazingly big mouth.”
Gary reappeared with drinks on a tray, inhaling deeply when Ames catcalled him, “Gary, there you are! Are you hiding from us? We need more wine, Gary. Your tip depends on it!”
I watched his thin chest inhale and exhale as though his patience were at a premium. “I’ll be with you in just a minute, Mr. Snarles. I’m just going to take down their order and I’ll be right over.”
As he set the glasses in front of us, he pulled out his pad to take our order, but Ames wasn’t going to let him off so easy.
“We were here first, Gaarryy!” he singsonged, his lipsticked mouth turning into a matte pink sneer. “We need wine! We need wine! We neeed wiiine!”
Gary looked as though he might crawl out of his skin, his bearded face crumpling under the constant barrage of heckling.
Higgs’s jaw clenched tight before he turned in his seat to face the gurus, inhaling deeply. “Folks, Gary said he’ll be with you in a minute. How about we give the guy a break?” His voice was calm, but I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to set them straight if necessary.
“And who are you?” Ames sneered, narrowing his smoky eyes at Higgs. “Better yet, do you know who I am, loser?”
“Ames!” Octavia cried. Clamping a hand over his, she hissed, “Stop it. You’re acting like a real d-bag!”
Higgs stared at him for what felt like forever with his hard cop-eyes, making Ames visibly squirm, before he said, “I have no idea who you are, and I don’t particularly care. But I do know who you aren’t. You aren’t well-mannered or, above all, quiet. So I’ll ask you again to please allow Gary to take our order, and he’ll be with you shortly.”
Just as Higgs was about to reposition himself in the cushy booth, Ames banged his fists against the table again, making the silverware jump. “Do you know how much money I have? I could buy this whole restaurant just to get rid of your stupid—”
The next moment happened so fast, I wasn’t sure it really happened—until I saw Coop staring down at Ames, who was tipped so far back in his chair, I thought he would fall over.
His chest rose and fell as she leaned all the way over him. She gripped the back of his chair with one hand, keeping him inches from the floor with a threatening glare, her legs planted on either side of his trembling legs.
Her green eyes glittered with mayhem I didn’t want to see unleashed. “You’re being exceptionally rude to my friend and our waiter, and if you don’t knock it off right now, I’m going to remove you myself. Gary is taking our order, you selfish, entitled, rich brat, and he’ll be with you soon. Now, be quiet, use your manners if you have any left, and wait. Your. Turn.”
She hiked the chair upright with a jolt and dropped it back on the floor with him still in it.
No one at their table moved, but every mouth hung open in astonishment as Coop made her way back to our table, slid into the booth and motioned for Gary to continue with that same blank stare.
“Please take our order now, Gary. I’m sorry they’re being so rude.”
Ames jumped up from the table and drunkenly stomped off toward the entryway, his leather pants and tight T-shirt rustling in the silence, but Gary breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m really sorry if he upset you, miss. They’ve been—”
“Rude,” Coop spat. “They’ve been very rude, and you have no reason to be sorry. I’m sorry you have to put up with such horrible people.”
He cocked a smile at her, the first I’d seen since our arrival, before he took our order.
“Wow, Coop. I’ve never seen you so angry,” Higgs remarked with a teasing smile. “Maybe we should consider cage fighting as a side job, huh?”
But Coop wasn’t laughing (not that she was ever laughing, but you know what I mean ). She stared Higgs down with a simmering glare. “I can’t believe how incredibly rude he is. I knew he was arrogant and entitled, because I’ve watched his videos and I’ve seen his online arguments, but that was uncalled for. I will not allow a bully in my space. Especially one who flaunts his money as though that’s supposed to excuse you from having manners.”
I blinked in shock, but I recovered quickly because that thing I’d mentioned about idol worship was happening, and I wanted to be there for Coop as she realized what was happening.
“You mostly did the right thing, Coop. Ames was definitely being horribly rude to our waiter—”
“No,” she said from a clenched jaw, her gorgeous face twisted up. “I did the wrong thing. I shouldn’t have threatened him. That makes me as bad as him, and I don’t want to be bad like him. I lost my temper. Now I’m going to have to live with that and the disappointment in myself.” Throwing her napkin on the table as though she were truly fed up, she looked at us. “Excuse me for a minute, please. I just need a little air to gather my thoughts. If our food comes before I get back, please start without me.”
Coop left the table, passing the now stunned-silent group of gurus without even looking their way.
Higgs looked at me as he took a sip of his beer, his raven eyebrow cocked. “Did she just do something that might be grounds for punishment if she were sixteen then turn directly around and teach herself a lesson before we h
ad to say a word—and all of this right before our very eyes?”
I giggled and nodded as I grabbed a packet of crackers from the basket on the table and ripped them open, popping one into my mouth. “Our little girl is growing up.”
He held up his beer and we clinked on it…and that was when I saw Susie Masters get up and lob her napkin on the table. Apparently, her shock had passed.
She glared at everyone at the table, brushing her sleeveless black-knit turtleneck dress with her hands as though she were trying to rid herself of something dirty.
Her beautiful face was hard, her brown eyes fiery as she shook her finger at the group. “I can’t believe we all sit around and let that barely over-the-drinking-age twit behave like that, just because he has a lot of money and influence in the makeup world. He’s not God, you idiots, but he leads you all around like you have leashes around your necks—and you’re all too chicken to fight back because nobody wants to upset the great and powerful Ames Snarles! Well, not me, kiddies. His behavior was disrespectful to Mitzy’s memory—”
“Hold on to your weave there, queen,” Alma Zon drawled in her southern accent as she, too, leapt from her chair and held up a long-fingered hand under Susie’s nose. “It’s not like y’all were BFFs, girl. So, please. Stop. You hated Mitzy. In fact, wasn’t it you who just the other night told me you hated her so much, you wished both her and her obnoxious squee would fall off the face of the Earth? I mean, she did steal your man, didn’t she? And now look. She’s dead. Irony much?” Alma cocked her head and popped her lips for emphasis.
Which only made Susie angrier. She looked around at the restaurant’s few patrons, her cheeks flaming bright red, rivaling the color of her lipstick.
“Shut up, Alma! You’re old news, you stage-five clinger!” she seethed, before she grabbed her clutch and ran from the restaurant on very high heels with red bottoms.
Everyone at the table, sat very still, no one saying a word.
I know this is going to sound horrible, because Susie was in quite a state, but if I was going to do this, now was the time. I had to figure this out for Coop. I had to know if Mitzy had been murdered. It was enough that Coop was disillusioned, I didn’t want her to forever wonder if there was a killer on the loose that remained at large, free to live their life without punishment.
Tapping Higgs’s arm, I motioned for him to let me out. “I’m going to see if I can catch up with Susie. I won’t be long, but for Coop’s sake, I can’t let this go. Don’t eat my fries, mister.”
Higgs jumped up, and I slipped out of the booth and virtually ran as fast as I could to catch up with Susie, to see her pushing her way into the ladies’ room.
Taking a deep breath, I stared at the white oak door before I pushed my way in, too, only to find her hovering over the pristine gold sink, crying.
Crying so hard, her shoulders shook and fat droplets of water fell to the counter beneath her hands.
Well, dang it all. How could I possibly wiggle info out of her when she was so miserable?
No one appeared to be in the five or so wood-faced stalls. The room was quiet but for the hum of the globe lights above the wall of mirrors and Susie’s sobs.
Pulling my purse from around my neck, I dug into it for some soft tissues. Susie didn’t appear to notice I’d entered, so I leaned up against the counter and said, “Can I offer you a tissue? The bathrooms in hotels aren’t exactly known for their luxury paper products.”
She looked up for only a minute, her makeup streaked under her eyes (obviously, she didn’t prime!), to take the tissues, and then she looked away in clear embarrassment, pressing the wad of tissues to her nose.
“Tha…thank you,” she said on a shuddered breath, tucking her gorgeous mane of hair back from her face.
Looking at her flawless reflection in the mirror, I asked, “Are you all right? Should I get someone for you?”
When she finally focused her eyes on me, she blew out a breath. “You’re the lady from the restaurant, right?”
Caught.
I think I blanched a little, at least the mirror I was staring into said as much. There was no point in lying, so I confessed. “I am.”
“I’m really sorry that sniveling brat interrupted your meal.”
I thought it odd she considered Ames a sniveling brat, a term mostly used to describe someone much younger than yourself. She didn’t appear much older than Ames, and I thought Coop told me he was only twenty-one. Susie didn’t look a day over twenty-five herself, but it made me wonder how old she truly was.
“He’d had quite a bit to drink. I’m not surprised he was behaving poorly,” I soothed. “Alcohol doesn’t always bring out the best in everyone.”
Susie snorted with derision, flipping the bronzed tap on. “The booze doesn’t matter in his case. Sober or not, he always behaves badly because he can and no one tells him he can’t. He does it because it looks good on Snapchat, and TikTok, and his Insta page. But your insanely gorgeous friend was right. He’s an entitled, spoiled brat who seems to think everyone should bow down to him because he’s a YouTube sensation. What he fails to realize is real live adults, people who live in the real live world, don’t always have cameras stuck up their noses and most of them have no clue who he is.”
“But he’s not as big a sensation as Mitzy? Is that maybe a reason for his discontent?”
Her eyes went wide, then narrowed in suspicion. “So you do know who we are?” Then she huffed. “That sounds ridiculously pretentious, doesn’t it? God, even I sound full of myself. Ugh! It’s disgusting. I hate it, and I hate them!” She wiped at her arms as though she’d somehow be able to wipe away her self-loathing.
I kept my voice calm and my face as unreadable and nonreactive as possible. “I was at the event the night Mitzy died, and I helped the police once they arrived. I was there with my friend, attending Mitzy’s meet and greet. So yes, I do know who you are, Susie, and it doesn’t sound pretentious at all. Though, I confess, I only know more about you all than the average Joe because that gorgeous creature you mentioned, who held Ames hostage, is a huge fan of you and Mitzy and your world.”
Susie’s face distorted in disgust as she rolled her big brown eyes. “She shouldn’t be a fan of any of us. We’re horrible people who stab each other in the back over eyeshadow. Eyeshadow. Does it get any shallower than that?”
To diffuse her mounting hysteria, I stuck my hand out to her and introduced myself. “I’m Trixie Lavender, by the way. And you’re Susie Masters, right?”
“Y…yes,” she said on a ragged sigh that echoed with a rasp in the tiled space. “Unfortunately, that’s me. Makeup guru, social media influencer and all-around phony. Tell that to your friend. Susie-Susie is a pathetic phony.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked softly, genuinely curious.
Turning, she leaned her slender length back against the marble countertop with me. “Because it’s true. All the stupid pictures on social media, my Instagram-perfect life, all of it is one big, fat lie.”
My smile was one of sympathy. “We sometimes give good face to hide our pain, don’t we? You do it with selfies and makeup, others do it with substance abuse or food. It’s like when someone takes a picture and tells you to smile and you oblige because you don’t want to ruin a picture with a frown when everyone else is smiling, right? So you put on a mask. But it’s just a mask. I understand that better than anyone, Susie. It means you don’t want people to see your pain. That’s not what I’d call phony. I’d call it survival.”
She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles going white. “No. It makes me a phony no matter how you slice it, and I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t care how much money it makes or how many sponsors it gets me, I don’t want to do it anymore.”
Someone was definitely at a crossroads. And this someone understood that better than anyone.
“Then don’t do it anymore. If you’ve made all this money, why not just walk away? You’re still plenty young. Find somet
hing you really want to do and do it,” I encouraged, watching her face change.
And then she did something odd, something unexpected. She put her hand to her lower abdomen before snatching it away, her words choked. “I can’t right now. I have obligations. Real-life obligations.”
I’m not sure why a piece of the puzzle clicked, or why it went in the direction it did, but it did—and instantly I knew why she couldn’t walk away from her sponsors and the money she was making.
“You can’t walk away because you’re pregnant, right?”
And that was when she crumpled against me and nodded, her sobs breaking my heart. “Yes!”
Chapter 9
As I held Susie and let her cry, I almost wished I hadn’t said anything. Not because I didn’t want to console her, but because now I felt compelled to ask her who the father was.
The one-time nun in me and the nosy Nellie who was sure she was on to something were about to collide.
“Is it Luca Stoker’s?”
She stilled in my arms for a moment before she straightened and narrowed her gaze in my direction, pushing out of my embrace. “How do you know about him?”
I looked up at her hardening face, and knew I had to work fast to get her to trust me, now that I’d brought up the enemy. “My friend, the insanely gorgeous one you mentioned—like I said, she’s a huge fan, and she watches all the YT makeup videos, but she also watches the tea spillers’ vlogs, too. It wasn’t really a secret.”
Blowing out a ragged breath, Susie nodded. “Yes. It’s his. We only broke up three months ago. I found out just after we called it quits. I was going to tell Mitzy after her meet and greet, just to watch her squirm, but I decided not to.”
“Is that what you meant by saying she was going to see what happens?” I decided being truthful was the only way to do this.
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