Carl Weber Presents Full Figured 6: Plus Size Divas
Page 24
Chapter 25
“Stay right there! I’m on my way!” Lowell yelled.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
Except on my flight outta here.
Home couldn’t come fast enough.
“I can’t miss my flight,” I said to him as a taxicab stopped right in front of me to unload its passengers.
For once, my luck held. That and Ladonna taking pity on me are what got me off the hook with a warning, courtesy of LVPD, to choose my friends more carefully in the future. The girl I thought was my friend had a criminal record in five different states as long as my arm and was actively engaging in credit card fraud and identity theft the whole time she was at Aquos. Nothing she’d told me about herself was true, which is fitting, I guess, seeing as I’d been less than honest too. The police first pinpointed where she might be operating as hotel guests in our general area began complaining about somebody stealing their info and running up charges. Those big-ass purses of hers actually had skimmers sewn into their lining to steal people’s credit card data when she walked by, or bumped into them. It explained how and why she’d inappropriately hugged both Julian and Lowell and how both wound up getting their card info stolen. She then was selling that stolen data to organizations while using some of it herself to support her extravagant lifestyle, including massive purchases of gift cards to hide the money trail.
Hiding in plain sight, and even her Aquos bracelet was as much a fraud as she.
One of the last things Ladonna—I mean, “Sherlitha Dix of Jackson, Tennessee”—told me before they took us off the van and hauled us to separate rooms was that she saw my account balance when she first swiped my credit card data. The bitch said she felt sorry for me when she realized I had zip, which is why she splurged so much on me.
Well, that and her “wanting someone to share the fun with.”
The final treat for me she shared was that, at the concert, she realized I knew Roy Bramlett from the way I was acting. And, that there was no love lost. When I left the concert with Julian, she was sure to bump Roy and his mistress with her purse skimmer and did an “extra special” job on his credit; things that would lead to questions by his wife back home in Illinois. Questions that Roy would have trouble answering. I guess maybe Our Boy Roy really should’ve given me that bonus after all.
As I’d worried about going to jail as part of Sherlitha’s scheme, her last words to me in Ladonna’s accent had been, “Don’t worry. I got ya. Us broke bitches gotta stick together.” She assured me she was going to accept full responsibility and was true to her word, as good as that was.
I was lucky to have my return flight ticket already because all those remaining magical $500 gift cards of hers, including those I had, were seized by the police as evidence.
Embarrassed was what I felt. But Lowell was different. Upon my release, I’d shared with him what had happened and that I was going straight to the airport. I didn’t think Julian would be quite so sympathetic or understanding about my issues, so we would just have our memories to look back on.
“Look, I’ve got a fare for the airport, so I’m heading your way as we speak,” Lowell repeated to make sure I could hear him over the traffic noise. “Wait for me outside, okay? I’m almost there, so don’t leave without me saying good-bye, Artemis.”
“Okay. I’m not moving. I’m in front of the United terminal right now.”
“That’s where my fare is heading. And they’re in a rush too, so this is perfect,” he stated before he hung up.
Over the next five minutes, several limos came and went. I watched them all, checking my watch, as general boarding for my flight was scheduled to begin soon.
As I checked the limo drivers for Lowell’s familiar face, one of the passengers exiting a recently arrived one walked briskly in my direction.
“Artemis!” the man in the charcoal sport coat and slacks called out before I could check his driver.
“Julian?” I called back in surprise upon recognizing him. “What . . . what are you doing here?” I asked in disbelief.
“You haven’t answered your phone since yesterday,” he stated, sounding out of breath. Upon spotting me, he’d hopped out of his car before the driver had a chance to come around and open his door. “Then this morning, the hotel said you checked out and had left, so I rushed over to check the departures for Houston, hoping to catch you before you got past security. And here you are, standing right here. It was a crazy, desperate gamble, but I couldn’t let you leave without a proper good-bye. Or without telling you I really want to see you again . . . outside of Las Vegas. Even if I have to fly from Connecticut to Houston to see you, or vice versa. What do you say?”
“Oh Julian . . . wow,” I said, equally stunned and flattered. But I was outside the terminal looking for Lowell, who was supposed to be arriving with his fare right about now. I was so busy focusing my eyes downfield at the limos coming toward me . . .
“Artemis?”
That I hadn’t bothered to check the limo in which Julian had just arrived.
“Lowell,” I gasped as he stood in the open driver’s door, staring at the two of us.
One of my issues when I came to Vegas had been my reluctance with relationships because of the two men who died on me. Now my problem was with two men again.
Except both were very much alive.
How do I know?
Because they both were staring at me.
Oops.
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