All heads turned to see if that was indeed the cousin Lucinda spoke about.
And under everyone's curious gazes, in walked a tall woman in high-heeled boots and a wine-red coat perfectly cinched and flared at the waist. Her hair was swept into a sleek ponytail that gleamed under the overhead lights.
Her presence commanded instant attention especially the diamond studded pendant dangling from her necklace that Shantel had no doubt she'd deliberately revealed by her low cleavage and her half way buttoned coat.
Looking all glamorous and elegant, she was indeed a sight to behold especially in a place as drab as a village cosmetics shop.
Shantel's eyes narrowed the instant recognition dawned—Vanessa Lyle—The fashion magnate, known more for her acidic tongue than her dress sense.
Could she be the jobless cousin Lucinda was going on and on about? If she was, then things were clearly going to get messier. But was she scared? Of course not.
