Party Crashers

can."
    A bribe in case someone came around asking questions about Sammy's business practices. Jolie hardened her jaw and pushed the money back with finality. "But I won't ."
    Sammy gave a little laugh and folded the extra cash back into her wallet. "That's always been your problem, Jolie—you can't see that sometimes the right thing to do is the easy thing to do."
    Swallowing the words that jumped to her throat, Jolie finished ringing up the sale and passed Sammy her change. She reached for the boxes to bag them, and Carlotta materialized by her side.
    "I'll do that," she said, then smiled at Sammy. "Nice shoes."
    Sammy tilted her head. "Aren't they?"
    "Yes," Carlotta said, handing her the shopping bag. "Thank you for shopping at Neiman Marcus. Enjoy the event."
    "I will, thank you." Sammy glared at Jolie. "I hope they catch your boyfriend." Then she whipped around and stalked off.
    "Brr," Carlotta said. She was dressed in a black jacket that was longer than her black miniskirt, dark tights, and a pair of black-satin-and-embroidered stiletto demi-boots with tassels around the top. She offered a gapped grin. "I can't wait to crash her party tonight. Did I see her trying to give you money ?"
    Jolie nodded. "Hush money."
    "You didn't take it?"
    "Nope."
    Carlotta emitted a dry laugh. "Then tell me her secrets and she can pay me hush money."
    Jolie bit her lip, knowing her friend was thinking about the money she owed in a few days' time to the man who'd come to see her at work.
    "I see you sold our shoes," Carlotta said, changing the subject. "I take it Michael didn't give you any problems?"
    "No," Jolie said. "But I feel terrible."
    "It'll pass. Christ, this place is a zoo."
    Jolie looked up to see Michael directing the placement of enormous bouquets of white helium balloons. Thumping music played over the speakers at a volume that Jolie had never heard in the store. Nervous energy crackled in the air as the conversation level rose from a hum to a dull roar. Black suits abounded as senior management arrived and store security multiplied. The press had been funneled into an area near the front of the line so cameras could capture the frenzy. Reporters interviewed the women standing in line. She saw Sammy put on her Sanders Realty badge and mug for a camera.
    "Where's the jumpsuit?" Carlotta murmured.
    "In my locker in the break room."
    "Let me have it, and I'll process your return while no one is around."
    Carlotta followed her into the stock room, quizzing her.
    "No stains, right?"
    "Right."
    "Did you run it through the dryer on air to get out the cigarette smoke?"
    "Yes."
    "How are the tags?"
    "Perfect."
    She unlocked the locker and withdrew the black dress bag. "Thanks, Carlotta. I felt like Cinderella last night."
    Carlotta pshawed, but Jolie could tell she was pleased. "You didn't leave anything in the pockets, did you?"
    Jolie covered her mouth. "His business card. I can't believe I forgot about the card."
    "LeMon's?"
    Jolie nodded and unzipped the bag. "It might have fallen out in the dryer—no, here it is." She pulled out the card and turned it over to see if the "private" number he'd written was still legible. It was...and so was the note he'd scribbled.

    I know what you want.

    She inhaled sharply, then showed Carlotta the card. "He must have recognized me."
    Carlotta squinted. "He gave you the card just as the Underwoods walked up. If he knew who you were, he hadn't figured it out at that point, had he?"
    "I don't know." Jolie touched her temple, trying to remember the series of conversations and events.
    "Maybe the jerk meant it as a come-on, as in 'I know what you want: me .'"
    Jolie's shoulders dropped. "You're probably right," she said, trying to convince herself. "Else, why would he have written his number?"
    "Right."
    "Right." Jolie tucked the card inside her jacket pocket and zipped the garment bag with a shaking hand.
    "Jolie," Carlotta said, her voice tinged with concern. "Have you told the police about LeMon?"
    "I'm going to call the detective on the case this afternoon." She checked her cell phone—Salyers had called again.
    "Jolie!" Michael yelled into the stockroom. "A totem-beaded mule in size six, and a Carmine ankle-tie pump in size nine! Hurry!"
    Carlotta hooked her fingers into the hanger and slung the garment bag over her shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later."
    Jolie nodded, then scrambled to get the shoes Michael needed, trying to put Roger LeMon out of her head. When she emerged with