“Really?” Leilani asks.
“Never mind that,” Caitan says, looking at the shopping bags at Leilani’s feet. “Are you buying more things with my brother’s money? Hasn’t he given you enough already?”
“My relationship with your brother is none of your business,” she answers.
“Whatever,” Caitan says, turning to her friends. “You know, she has no money of her own. My brother gave her a fake bag, and she couldn’t even tell the difference. Can you believe that?”
“How embarrassing,” the girls giggle.
Leilani waves to the salesgirl, but the girl isn’t as friendly as before. She helps Leilani get a gunmetal colored bag. Leilani looks inside and nods, and the girl rushes away to wrap it up.
“It’s not my fault that the Cliffords can’t tell the difference between real and fake bags,” she says, looking at Caitan. “Are you sure that the bag on your shoulder is real?”
“Of course it is,” Caitan says. “I’ve had it for ages already—you all saw my Instagram posts with it.”
The girls around her nod, and Caitan lifts the purse up to show it off. She passes it around, and her friends finger the leather and smile jealousy. One blonde girl with a French bob haircut swings the purse in her hands and shakes her head.
“Hmm, I’m not so sure it’s real,” she says with a slight accent.
“How dare you,” Caitan snaps. “I’ll prove it. Sales Girl! Come over here! I want someone to authenticate this bag.”
The store manager emerges from the back. She walks across the room and tucks her hair back behind her ears. She raises the bag to the light and looks at the leather. Then she slides the zipper back and forth and peeks inside the bag.
“I’m sorry, Miss Clifford, but this bag is definitely not real, Hermes,” she says. “What?” Caitan shouts. “That’s not possible!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Clifford,” the manager says. “But, the bag is a fake.”
“Take a closer look,” Caitan insists. “I had my maid get it appraised this morning, and she said it was real.”
The manager’s face hardens, and she says, “Look, if you don’t, believe me, you can have it sent to our headquarters, but I promise they’ll say the same thing I said. If you look at the seam here, you can tell it’s not a real cross-stitch. And the lining inside is slightly discolored—our colors aren’t so bright. Finally, the tag here is clearly a knockoff—a good one, but still a knockoff.”
Caitan’s pale face turns blotchy and red, and she takes the bag and throws it at Leilani’s feet. She stomps her foot and points a shaking finger at Leilani.
“You tricked me,” she screams.
Leilani raises her eyebrows and asks, “How do you think I did that?”
“I don’t know, but you must have switched the bags somehow,” Caitan says.
Caitan lunges forward and grabs the brim of Leilani’s hat. She pulls it off her head and then yanks the sunglasses from her face and throws them to the ground. Leilani stands still and puts her hands over her stomach. Caitan looks up at her face, and her eyes widen with surprise.
She whirls around and pulls a silk scarf from the display and scrubs it against Leilani’s cheek. She pulls it away covered in concealer. A catlike smile twists her mouth, and she rubs the scarf over Leilani’s nose, forehead, and other cheeks. She throws the ruined scarf onto the ground and points at Leilani’s face.
“Look how ridiculous Leilani looks,” she shouts.
Caitan’s friends look at her as if she’s crazy. They step backward and whisper among themselves.
“There’s nothing on her face,” the French girl says. “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting—how do you say it—trashy.”
Leilani pulls the surgical mask from Caitan’s face, revealing the dark black smudge above her lip. The marker looks especially dramatic against Caitan’s blotchy skin.
“Oh my god, Caitan, that’s hilarious,” the girls shout. “But why on Earth would you go out like that? I’d be too embarrassed even to leave my bed.”
“You’ve gone too far this time, Caitan,” the French girl says. “Between the fake bag and the mustache, it’s too embarrassing to be seen with you. Don’t tell anyone you know me.”
Caitan’s face twists with rage, and she grabs the surgical mask off the floor and covers her mouth. She lunges toward Leilani with a raised hand as if to slap her.
“Leilani,” a melodic, accented voice calls from the door. “I didn’t know I’d run into you here.”
Caitan freezes, and Leilani looks over the girl’s shoulder. Rebecca is sitting in a wheelchair with a tall nurse behind her. Caitan’s friends stand to either side with admiration on their faces. Rebecca looks Caitan up and down and purses her lips.
“Is this Miss Clifford?” she asks.
“It is,” Leilani answers. “Caitan Clifford.”
Rebecca smiles and asks, “Were you about to hit my friend, Miss Caitan?”
Caitan’s hand drops down to her side, and she says, “Who the hell are you? My quarrel with Leilani is none of your business.”
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Rebecca says. “I just never would have expected such violence from a Clifford. I always heard that the Cliffords were a cultured family, but I guess I heard wrong.”
“Mind your own business,” Caitan snaps.
Caitan’s friends back further toward the door, and some look like they want to flee, but the others block their way.
“Come on, Caitan,” one of them shouts. “Let’s get out of here. None of us want a scene, and some people are taking their phones out to film.”
Caitan spins around and sees that sales girls and customers have their phones up to record. She growls behind her mask and rushes toward the door, disappearing in her group of friends.
“Well, Rebecca, it’s a surprise to see you here,” Leilani says. “I thought you were still in the hospital. In fact, I planned to visit you today.”
“Honestly, I got so bored in the hospital,” Rebecca says. “I begged the doctors to let me out, and they agreed so long as a nurse went with me. I can’t believe I’ve run into you—what good luck!”
The salesgirl comes over carrying a card reader and the wrapped bag. She passes the bag to Leilani, but Rebecca’s face lights up.
“May I?” she asks, reaching for the bag.
“Of course,” Leilani says, placing the shopping bag on Rebecca’s lap.
“Oh, Leilani, it’s gorgeous, and so you,” Rebecca says, peeking past the tissue paper. “Allow me to buy it for you.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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