Fleur De Lies(123)
“Don’t forget Esteé Lauder. I’m going shopping for cosmetics!”
“No kiddin’?” asked Nana. “You don’t got enough already?”
“Mrs. S., a woman can never have enough cosmetics, especially in my profession. You can’t imagine all the products I’ve gone through in my attempt to show you guys how hot you can look with your complexions buried beneath a ton of foundation.”
“Well, you sure done right by Bernice. I never seen her look so good as she did the other day.”
Jackie splayed her hand over her heart. “Bernice is one of my great success stories.”
I nodded. “I’ll give credit where credit is due, too. Her face looked amazing before Patrice fell on her.”
Jackie canted her head, staring off into space. “She was my masterpiece. She wanted to be to Mrs. S.’s art class what Mona Lisa had been to da Vinci. But sadly, smear-proof lipstick and volumizing mascara were never product tested beneath the weight of a 160- pound Frenchman.”
“I’ve gotta hand it to her,” I said, recalling what had happened when we’d pulled Patrice off her. “I was astonished she wasn’t embarrassed by her rather blatant overexposure when her bathrobe fell open. I would have been mortified.”
Nana rolled her eyes. “You wasn’t the one what was plannin’ to surprise the art class by posin’ in the buff ’cuz you thought ‘still life’ meant ‘naked person not movin’.”
“Count your blessings,” counseled Jackie. “At least she wasn’t hurt. And her threat to sue the tour company scored her a voucher for a free cruise at some later date. Kinda makes me wish I’d had a 160-pound Frenchman fall on top of me.”
Patrice had been led off the boat in handcuffs, destined to face an uncertain future in the French prison system. If only he’d taken the time to discuss the history of Pierre Lefevre’s ring with Woody. If only he hadn’t tried to avenge past wrongs by committing new ones.
“So what’s on your schedule, dear?” asked Nana.
A fluttery sensation tickled my breastbone. “I’m going to sit on this very spot and wait for a call from Etienne. His seminar is over, so he should be phoning me up any minute now.”
Jackie stood up. “I’m off, then. What about you, Mrs. S.?”
“I’ve only got a couple of hours before the bus leaves, so I better go, too.”
I stared out over the empty parking lot. “The bus isn’t even here yet, Nana.”
“I know, dear, so if I get in line now, there won’t be no way I’ll miss it.”
I removed my cell phone from my shoulder bag and set it on my lap, willing it to ring. A few guests were doing laps around the deck, some walking, others jogging, but it was pretty quiet up here this morning. It kinda made me feel as if I were the only passenger on the entire boat.
“There you are, Emily. I ran into Jackie downstairs. She was kind enough to tell me where you were. I hope you won’t mind the intrusion.”
“Victor!” I popped out of my chair and ushered him to the chair Nana had just vacated. His oxygen tube was secure in his nostrils, and he was still supporting himself on his cane, but he looked surprisingly hale considering what he’d just been through. “I hope you’re feeling as good as you look.”
He laughed. “Flatterer. But the hospital stay did me good. I don’t know what those IVs were pumping into me, but I no longer feel like a two-hundred-year-old relic. I feel more like a mere pup of perhaps seventy or eighty.”