Brooke was fuming. Her run-in with the Holts had already soured her mood, and now, seeing a woman with an innocent but alluring face going for the same dress tipped her over the edge.
She grunted dismissively and turned to browse another rack.
After the unpleasantness at the Holt's, Genevieve had lost her appetite for shopping and had gone to meet her friends for a spa day instead.
Brooke, however, felt the only cure for her foul mood was a shopping spree, so she stayed behind.
It seemed that for a woman in distress, only fine food and retail therapy could bring joy.
She hadn't expected to run into another annoying bitch.
Yvonne's expression stiffened. She hadn't realized the simple-minded Brooke had such a temper. She quickly followed her.
"I'm so sorry," Yvonne said softly. "I just thought this sweater was so beautiful. If you like it, you should try it on."
Brooke completely ignored her and continued picking through the clothes.
Yvonne, not put off at all by the brush-off, kept pushing with no shame. "You from Clayborne too?"
Brooke frowned. What was that about?
Was it polite to suddenly ask where she was from? Did this woman have an ulterior motive?
Brooke finally turned her gaze on Yvonne. The woman's face was undeniably beautiful, the kind that drove men crazy and made other women burn with jealousy.
Brooke glanced around the store. Including the staff, there were about ten people. She shot a contemptuous look at the woman before her, hiding the mockery in her eyes.
When she looked up again, her expression was a mixture of resignation and amusement.
"I'm sorry, miss," Brooke said, her voice a little too loud. "I'm not interested in women."
The words hung in the air, and Yvonne froze. When she recovered, she noticed everyone else in the store staring at them strangely.



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