I TAKE command of the exclusive boutique and point at things. Clothes. Shoes. Purses. Wallets. Things I normally purchase in increments. Christmas. Birthdays. Special occasions.
Not today.
Today, I grab them in one sweep.
I put my husband's credit card on the counter and smile at the cashier. She's young. Hair scraped back. Eyes wide and innocent. The world hasn't beaten the naïveté out of her yet.
"This is a lot." The surprise in Pax's voice is thick. The smile on her face is thin.
"I'm in the mood for excess."
"That's…" She blinks rapidly. Pax is wearing red today. A matador's color. It flows around her like a flag taunting a bull. "Excuse me." Pax tells the cashier. She plants her elbows on the counter and spies on the total. Her eyes go wide. "Oh. Wow. What's the occasion?"
"Revenge."
Her eyebrows shoot for the ceiling.
And maybe I push out my chest a little, but I can celebrate my evil if I want to.
"Really."
