Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,297

heels.

“Not going to fit me, Amazon.” Lauren stares at the black heels in Vanessa’s hands.

“They were my mom’s and they’ll fit you. And I might add that five eight is not an Amazon.” Vanessa slips on her own shoes finishing her outfit off and looking like she’s ready to step out of a limo with Bradley Cooper.

“Well, to me and Maddie you are.” She puts on the heels Vanessa hands her and instantly transforms from my friend who prefers sneakers and track pants, into a piece of arm candy.

“I have no idea how I became friends with two short girls.” Vanessa shakes her head in mock disappointment.

“I’m going to grab my clutch and shawl.” I step out of the room into the hallway.

“Shawl? What are you eighty?” Lauren yells after me.

“It’s fall in Chicago. You can freeze your ass off tonight. I won’t be sharing while we wait for a cab.” I head to the master suite down the hall.

Hey, I own the house we all live in so it’s only fair that I have the biggest room with my own private bathroom. Not that I don’t come home to find one of the girls in my jacuzzi tub on a regular basis. The only time it proved awkward was when I once sat down on the toilet to have a pee and realized Vanessa actually had a guy with her under the suds.

Yet another reason I don’t plan on us being here much longer. Once I get my new project secured and off the ground I’ll be moving out.

I flip houses and not the whole buy a house and earn a few thousand replacing the floor and adding a backsplash kind of flip. You know the old run down houses that no one wants? The ones people think are abandoned because they’re haunted, or the ones people think the homeless or heroin addicts live in? I buy those, strip them down to the bones and rebuild them into something worth coveting. What most people think is beyond repair isn’t worthless. I love being the one to show people the beauty hidden within.

Okay that and the fact that if I can buy a place for a steal, there’s a nice profit to be made. When I get a good contractor that is.

I enter my closet and grab the shawl in question off a hanger and wrap it over my shoulders, then take my clutch from the top of my dresser where I set it after I loaded it with everything needed for the night—money, ID, my credit and debit cards (you never know when you’re going to run into trouble and need either), my lipstick (so I can touch up when needed. I especially hate when they don’t have straws for their drinks—it makes your lipstick last only half as long), a couple Advil (because if they offer wine at the festivities tonight, there’s potential for a headache), my cell phone and a couple of pieces of gum. I’ve never really needed the gum because I’m not the type of girl to kiss a guy I just met, but I can’t say the same for my two friends.

I leave my bedroom and begin to walk toward the stairs.

“You’re not wearing a shawl tonight. You’re twenty-seven, Maddie.” Vanessa rips it off my shoulders and tosses it in the trash of the main bath when we walk by.

“Hey! That was my find at Nordstroms Rack,” I argue.

“And it should have stayed on the rack,” Vanessa says, her heels clicking down the wooden stairs that should be finished next week.

The girls and I have what we call Cheapster Challenges. We each go shopping and try to come back with the best deal on a clearance item. Whoever paid the lowest price and has the most fashionable item wins. When I say wins, I’m talking about a Froyo with unlimited toppings. Yeah, we’re not exactly big spenders here.

“Then you’re paying for the cab when I’m freezing.”

We stop and wait at the bottom of the stairs for Lauren to join us.

“With any luck you’ll have a big body keeping you warm tonight,” Lauren says from the top of the staircase.

She begins her descent and Vanessa and I stare up at her like Freddie Prinze Jr. in the movie She’s All That, minus the red dress and minus the fact that we don’t have penises. You get what I’m saying.

“Lauren,” I sigh. I’m taken aback, only having seen her this done up in the past five