had serious doubts about their future. How were they ever supposed to reconnect when all he cared about was his bottom line?
“Next in line please,” the slender brunette chirped from behind the cash register.
Simone stepped forward, unloaded her books on the counter and returned the basket to its rightful place.
“Ma’am...”
Simone cringed and gripped her phone so tight she feared it would crumble in her hands. She was starting to hate that word. Twenty-nine wasn’t old, and if one more person called her the m-word today she was going to lose it like a celebrity wife wielding a golf club.
“You spent a hundred dollars, so you’re entitled to a free book,” the clerk announced, smiling wide. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to look around while I bag your purchases?”
Glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking, Simone returned to the abandoned shopping cart, retrieved the little pink book and quickly slid it across the counter. “I’ll just take this.”
“Good choice. You’ll love it. Dr. RaShondra is hilarious, and the rules actually work!”
“They do?”
The brunette nodded her head. “I’ve been married for eleven years, and my husband’s never been more affectionate, so either the rules are working or he’s having a midlife crisis. But either way, I’m happy!”
I would be, too, Simone thought, grabbing her bags and returning to the kids’ section. “Come on, boys, it’s time to go. It’s getting late, and I still have to go home and make dinner.”
“Awww, can’t we stay a little longer?” Jayden asked, his eyes glued to the talking book cradled in his hands. “I want to finish this story, Mommy. It’s really good!”
“Ten more minutes, Jayden. That’s it.” Tired of standing, Simone dropped down in a cozy armchair and searched the café for Tameika. The stylist was nowhere to be found. Since the coast was clear, she opened the little pink book to chapter one and started reading.
A “Seductress” is a complete woman, a “Together Woman,” a sister who knows who she is, what she wants and how to get it. A “Seductress” doesn’t wait for things to happen; she makes them happen. She’s on top of her game, savvy as hell and always well put together. She doesn’t leave her house in tattered sweats or with jacked-up hair and stank breath, either. And since a “Seductress” knows her hair is her glory and her body’s a temple, she doesn’t skip workouts or forsake beauty appointments unless there’s an emergency (think, death).
It’s time to get it together, girl! While you work on getting your mind right, get your body right, too. First things first. Get rid of those funky flannel pajamas. If you look like his mother, he’s going to treat you like his mother. Okay? Go all out when it’s time for bed, too. I’m not telling you to don an evening gown, or drape yourself in diamonds, but for God’s sake, take those damn rollers out of your hair and wash that exfoliating mask off your face! Sexify your wardrobe, girlfriend! It’s time to burn the flannel and embrace the lace!
Simone hooted, cracked up until water filled her eyes.
“Mommy, you’re being too noisy.”
Smiling sheepishly at her sons, who were staring at her with raised eyebrows and bunched-up noses, she said, “Sorry about that, boys. I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” Jordan replied, reopening his comic book and settling back into his beanbag chair. “Just don’t let it happen again.”
For the second time in minutes, Simone laughed out loud.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.