“You’d have preferred them somewhere else?”
“It’s silly,” she said.
“Not everyone’s bound by what others deem inappropriate.” Darby Beckett, my best friend for the last two years, closed in ranks behind me.
Unlike last night’s crowd, Darby represented the small faction of Laguna residents who don’t have piles of money. Originally from Nebraska, she didn’t always relate to the west coast shenanigans.
Darby owned Paw Prints, the pet photography shop next door. She’d had a last minute cancellation, and she’d graciously offered to pop over and help me with the mad crush of customers. God love her. Darby had the same Mona-chip on her shoulder as I did. Maybe even bigger.
Mona looked right past Darby. “Melinda, your mother would be appalled to see you dressed in secondhand throwaways.”
I sighed. Mona had me on that one. Mama would be aghast at my typical attire. “Where’s Fluffy?” I asked.
“Cliff has her,” Tricia said.
Cliff Michaels was Mona’s fourth ex-husband. They shared custody of Fluffy.
Fluffy wasn’t your average Afghan. She was a dog actor. In the past few years, she’d won two Daytime Emmys for a guest role on a soap opera. She’d played a Lassie type, saving the resident drama queen from drowning. Maybe the soap would still be on the air today if they’d have killed her off. The drama queen, not Fluffy. Never kill the dog.
Cliff, on the other hand, seemed like a nice enough guy, but after two years of marriage he’d had enough of Mona and had left their multi-million dollar mansion for a “modest” yacht he’d named
“Melinda, we have business to attend to. I don’t have all day,” Mona insisted.
I took a deep breath, well aware I couldn’t afford a repeat of last night.
“Mona, I have customers to assist. I will meet with you next week. Like we agreed.” One look around the shop, and anyone could see that my customers weren’t blazin’ a trail to pay up and leave behind the free entertainment.
“You don’t really want to cross me. Do you?” Mona tilted her head. Not much. Just enough to make her face look more intimidating than normal.
“We’re not afraid of you.” Darby’s bouncy blond curls slapped the side of her face. She stood next to me in an attempt to give the illusion of a united front.
Mona’s shrewd eyes locked on her. “You should be my little rabbit.”
Darby sucked in a sharp breath. She opened and closed her mouth, but no words came out. Her small frame vibrated in what I assumed was panic and anger. I squeezed my best friend’s hand.
“Mona, leave Darby out of this.” I kept my voice low, trying my darnedest to not make a scene. “If you have something to say to me, say it. Otherwise, get out.”
Darby wagged her finger at Mona, not willing to back down. “Some day, you’ll get what what’s coming to you.”
I could have sworn Mona stiffened, but it was hard to tell since she was already so unyielding.
Tricia stuffed her phone inside her Marc Jacobs bag and looked at Mona for their next move. We all waited.
Mona didn’t disappoint.
“When you continue to humiliate people in public, the only way for them to save face is to sue,” Mona slipped her sunglasses into the protective case.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Sue for what? Geez Louise. I didn’t have patience for mind games.
Mona casually adjusted her purse strap, and then thrust the figurative dagger into my back and twisted. “I called your mother last night. Babs and I had a wonderful time catching up. I talked her into coming out for a visit.”
I wasn’t afraid of Mona, but I was absolutely avoiding my mother (for the record, no one called Barbara Langston “Babs” to her face). I love my Mama, but she left me dog-tired.
“I’m sure you left out the part where you called her a prostitute,” I said. I had every right to be upset at my Mama, but for an outsider to insult her (and anyone who’s not family is just that, an outsider), was unacceptable.
I heard a soft gasp. I looked around the shop. There were at least five customers pretending to study the merchandise.
Mona shrugged. “I did no such thing. Besides, Barbara has moved past that.”
Just because Mama didn’t talk about
She had zero southern manners.
“We agreed. You owe me an apology. A
“I hope you didn’t get your stone-heart set on that apology,” I said.
“You wouldn’t want to damage her reputation any more than you already have, would you, dear?”
Her arrogant tone choked me like a Texas heat wave in the middle of August. It took all the resolve I possessed to control my temper. “Get. Out.”
Tricia’s eyes widened in shock. “You can’t kick us out.” Her voice trembled.
“I just did.”
Mona’s eyebrow rose in warning. “You’ll regret this.”
Cold anger oozed through my body and settled in all the wrong places, making me say and do all the wrong things. Again. Some day I’d figure it out. But that wasn’t today. Mona had crossed the line.
“You’re a bitter selfish woman. I don’t cotton to threats against my family or my friends. The only thing I regret is that I didn’t take y’all down last night when I had the chance.”
Chapter Four
Sometimes I find myself on the brink of trouble without trying. It was doubtful I’d “regret” ordering Mona and her lap dog, Tricia, out of Bow Wow. Although I had to admit, I hadn’t thought through what I’d meant by “take you down.” That was an unfortunate choice of words.
I’d like to report Mona and Tricia had immediately skedaddled, but that’s not how it played out. They’d split on their terms-right after Mona had received an “urgent” call from the pet psychic, Josephine “Jo” O’Malley.
My loyal customers had been all abuzz about how I’d stood up to Mona-half proud, the other half worried about the repercussions. Their concern was unexpected, touching and probably warranted.
God bless Darby, she’d had my back the whole time and stuck around until the last customers had toted their purchases out the door. Darby was top dog in my book.
It was three o’clock, and I was starving. I locked the shop to woof down a late lunch. I’d just swallowed a mouthful of turkey and avocado sandwich when Darby pounded on Bow Wow’s front door. I dropped my food on the counter and scrambled to let her in, my boots squeaking on the hardwood floor.
I swung the door open, and the salty ocean breeze rushed inside. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”
Darby swept past me, looking very Annie Leibovitz in her black button-up shirt and jeans.
“I’m not alone,” she said.
Sixty pounds of sleek muscle trailed behind her. Fluffy.
“Where in Sam Hill did she come from?” I choked out, shutting the door behind them.
Fluffy paused next to the Louis Vuitton dog carriers and shook. Stray fur and a handful of leaves landed on the throw rug. She blithely scanned the empty shop, nose and tail in the air.
That dog had more attitude than an Orange County teenager.
