Fake It Till You Bake It(7)

Jada’s heart thudded. Had what she’d done been so bad? According to Twitter, Instagram, various podcasts, and that old fave, Facebook, the answer was a resounding yes.

She should have slipped on her sunglasses before leaving the house. Even if they’d still recognized her, she could have used the extra layer of protection the Dior eyewear would have given her.

She had no doubt what was about to happen. What had happened every time she stepped foot out of her residence since the My One and Only season finale aired—well, until she finally gave up and stayed inside. She quickly deposited the dress she’d been so excited about on the nearest rack and scanned the store for Olivia. Damn it, she was nowhere to be found. Where the hell had her friend gone? Oh, that’s right. She was trying on that skirt Jada no longer considered cute.

Still, she had to get out of here. She’d call Olivia from her car and come back to pick her up.

Jada made a beeline for the door. A woman stepped directly into her path before she got far. Only Jada’s quick reflexes stopped her from plowing into the interloper.

“How could you do that to Dr. John?” the woman spat, bending down because she, too, was taller than Jada. Jada recognized her voice. The first woman to spot her. Her glare practically singed Jada’s eyebrows.

Jada whirled. The other woman, whose skin was a shade of orange found only in tanning booths, was waiting. “He was the perfect guy, and you broke his heart!”

“Well, umm … I gotta go.” She made another move toward the door, but the Darth Avengers weren’t interested in letting her go. They crowded in on her. Jada automatically took a step backward, then stopped herself from taking another. She wouldn’t let them intimidate her.

“What were you thinking?” Darth Avenger One asked.

“It’s a blur, sir. Err, ma’am.”

“What?” The avenger’s face screwed up in confusion.

Jada waved her hand. “Sorry. Lyric from Hamilton.”

Wrong. Thing. To. Say.

Jada had heard the term “spitting fire” before. She’d never witnessed it in person until this moment. Darth Avenger One’s green eyes bulged, while her pale skin mottled with red blotches. “Really? Is everything a joke to you?”

Yeah, usually. That’s how she got through life’s disappointments and feeling like the ultimate disappointment to her brilliant parents.

Jada tried to dodge around the woman, but anger apparently gave a person the moves of a professional athlete who got paid to play defense, not offense. She blocked Jada’s every maneuver. “Was it all a game to you?”

A game? No. A chance to have some fun and not think about her future? Yes. Until it all went to hell in a handbasket. Hell in a handbasket? What was up with that phrase anyway?

“You’re a heartless bitch,” Darth Avenger Two said with a derisive sniff.

Jada flinched, the insult punching her square in the gut and leaving her breathless. Showing emotion was the last thing she should do in this situation, but damn it, she was only human. A flawed, often aggravating human, according to her loved ones, but human, nevertheless. Words did hurt. Of course, her detractors would point out that actions hurt worse.

“Excuse me. Can I help you ladies with anything?” Carrie stepped beside Jada.

Jada took the lifeline. “No, I was just leaving.”

“What’s going on?” Olivia’s voice carried across the store.

Jada waved her over. “Nothing. It’s time to go.”

Olivia gave the Darth Avengers a death stare, but followed Jada out of the store without further comment. Carrie blocked the avengers from following them. Still, Jada kept her head down and hurried to her car parked down the block.

“What did those bitches say?” Olivia said once they’d found sanctuary in the silver BMW.

Jada blinked back tears. “The same thing everyone says.”

“I can go back and beat their asses.” The freckles that dotted Olivia’s sienna-brown skin belied her fierce nature.

Jada shot her a look. “No, you can’t because then I’d have to call your parents and tell them their miracle child is in jail.”

Olivia’s scowl didn’t lessen. Her red-tinted brown curls bounced as she twisted in the seat to peer out the back window. “Might be worth it.”

“Ma’am, you have a job, a good job. You don’t need to lose it because of me.” Unlike Jada, Olivia had gone to grad school and got an MBA with concentrations in hotel management and HR. She was now an up-and-coming star for a successful hotel chain. Jada deflated. “I shouldn’t have left my condo.”

“You can’t let those bitches ruin your day.”

“I know. Or at least I’m trying to know that.” And yet her voice shook and one, two, damn it, three tears slipped out.

“You look good though.”

A punch of laughter bubbled up from her chest at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you.” Her best friend always knew the right thing to say. Even if her life was a mess, Jada did her best to make sure her outside was always fabulous. If others were allowed to like comic books or sports or gardening or whatever the hell they liked, she could like makeup and clothes, damn it. The accoutrements gave her confidence and made her look good. Win-win.

Jada flipped down the visor and inspected her face in the mirror. No sign of the cupcake frosting, though the taste of strawberries lingered on her tongue. Eyes only a little bloodshot. Mascara and eyeshadow on point. Foundation still making her skin look luminous and blemish-free. That new makeup setter was doing its job. She should make a YouTube video review.