Fleur De Lies by Maddy Hunter

breakfast with two beautiful women? They never mentioned this in the cruise brochure, but it’s a great selling point if they want to attract old codgers like me.”
    “You gotta promise though,” Krystal insisted as she settled next to him. “None of that depressin’ talk about funeral plannin’, or I promise I’ll leave y’all and sit somewhere else.”
    Pleeeease revert to your default setting … Pleeeease revert to your default setting …
    “Where’s your girlfriends anyway?” Woody asked as he glanced around the dining room.
    “They’re not my girlfriends,” she corrected in a tight voice. “Not after what they said last night.” She gathered her platinum locks in one hand and draped the long tail over her shoulder as if it were a giant python preparing to mate with her overly tight snakeskin top. “They know I’m a shoe-in for Victor’s bonus, so they’re miffed. And all’s they’re provin’ is what poor losers they are. No one has ever outsold me at Mona Michelle. I know it for a fact, and so do they.”
    “Have you seen a spreadsheet comparing the actual sales figures?” I asked.
    “I don’t need to see the figures, hon. I just know.”
    Right. Kinda like the politicians who didn’t actually need to see the WMD to know they were there.
    “Why’re you wearin’ sunglasses indoors?” She wrinkled her adorably upturned nose at me. “That’s kind of affected, idn’t it? Are you hopin’ someone’ll mistake you for a celebrity?” She giggled. “Big disappointment there!”
    I took solace in the fact that breakfast was the quickest meal of the day. “The sun,” I said calmly as I pointed skyward. “It’s in my eyes.”
    “Have you got sensitive eyes, darlin’?” She slapped her palm on the table. “Do I have a deal for you. Mona Michelle sells clump-free mascara for sensitive eyes, and if you apply enough coats, your lashes will get so voluminously long and stiff, you’ll never have to worry about seeing the sun ever again! I swear by the stuff. See?” She blinked several times to demonstrate the usefulness of stiff, overly long lashes. “You want I should write you up an order? It’s only $49.95 , excluding postage and handling fees.”
    “FOR MASCARA?”
    “It’s not just any mascara, darlin’. This mascara is transformational. Men will be dazzled. Your boss will beg to give you a raise. I guarantee you’ll feel more sexy, empowered, confident, influential—”
    “—ripped off. Don’t you sell anything for like … $8.99?”
    She lowered her brows dramatically. “For $8.99 I can sell you a travel-size bottle of alcohol-free mouthwash.” Her voice dipped to a whisper. “The alcohol thing can be a huge deal breaker in the Bible Belt.”
    “You sell any products for guys my age?” asked Woody.
    “Is the Pope the Pope?” she teased.
    I guess it wasn’t relevant if he were Catholic or not.
    Lifting Woody’s hand off the table, she examined his fingers with dollars signs spinning in her eyes. “You would love the seaweed based cuticle treatment we sell, hon. And from the condition of these nails, I’d say, the sooner you buy it, the better. In one quick treatment, I can guarantee you healthier nails polished to a liquid shine … or your money back. Three-way buffer and nail file not included.”
    “How much’ll that set me back?”
    “The oil is only $49.95, excluding postage and handling fees,” she tittered. “And the three-way buffer and file are on special, so I can let you have them both for an inclusive charge of $49.95, excluding postage and handling fees. I’ll thank you for noticin’ that I’m practically givin’ ’em away.”
    Even through the film of UV protection coating my lenses, I could see every ounce of blood drain from Woody’s face. “You got anything else?”
    Focusing on his hand with renewed interest, she patted his finger. “Well, idn’t this just the cutest ring. What’s this doohickey on the top here? Some kind of