Love Stinks Read online

  Love Stinks

  Jeffrey Marks

  Copyright © 2012 by Jeffrey Marks

  All rights reserved,

  including the right of reproduction

  in whole or in part in any form.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Chapter 1

  As she walked back the main aisle, Marissa moved a bottle of Chanel from the Givenchy display and placed it on the correct counter. If anybody found what they were looking for today without GPS tracking, it would be a miracle.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw a group of men approaching. Even from a distance, she recognized the entourage that included the store manager and company president. She checked her appearance in one of the cosmetic mirrors, tugged on an unruly piece of dark hair and strode over to meet them.

  "Marissa, do you have everything ready for the press conference?" Zack Martin, the store manager, asked in a harsh whisper as she approached them.

  Marissa forced a smile and nodded as the rest of the group caught up to the manager. Maybe she could get some rest while everyone was gawking at the actor. Surveying the growing crowd, Marissa moaned. The three o'clock press conference marked the last event of a hectic day with actor Steve Douglas. She had attended the noon luncheon and had deliberately missed the photo shoot and autograph party in order to prepare her department for the onslaught this afternoon.

  The cosmetics area was definitely bright enough to wake her up. Marissa looked across the sparkling milky white floor in amazement. How could someone get tile to shine like that? Hers always looked like the mop was lost. The ten octagonal counters sparkled with their brass trim and wide glass panels. All showed the powders, lipstick, mascara, and perfume that the store hoped customers would buy to ensnare the opposite sex. As if that wasn't enough, posters of happy couples smelling each other hung across the wall, marking the middle of the store. The elevators and Marissa's office were enclosed in those walls which made an oval of the first floor of the store. On the opposite side of the walls, lingerie and accessories waited for the first day customers. To the right of cosmetics were the upscale dresses where her friend Anne supervised the chaos and the left side held men's suits so both sexes were able to find something just inside the store entrance from the mall.

  "It had better be. Kantor's is depending on this to go smoothly." As Zack spoke, Marissa drew herself up to her full height so that she could gaze over his slicked back hair and look down at the boyish face which had worked itself into a grimace. The store manager was out to impress the top echelons today in a big way and had been threatening the new department managers with every sort of torture if things went wrong. Marissa needed this job too much to snap back a one-liner. Zack ran back to the group of men and left Marissa to trail behind in her high heels.

  Zack touched Steve on the shoulder. "Steve, I'd like to introduce you to Marissa Scott. She's the head of cosmetics here at Kantor's." Steve Douglas had been a Cincinnati native before he hit it big in the movies and since he was introducing his own line of cologne, management thought the event should be combined with the addition of Kantor's as a new anchor store in Westgate Mall.

  Steve flashed a perfect row of white teeth at her. His whole appearance struck her as false. She could smell his own new cologne on him. His hair was auburn without a trace of freckles on his face, although he did look rather heated at the moment, judging from the stain under the arms of his moss green shirt. Marissa was sure that his suit cost more than her month's salary. He shifted his suit coat to his other arm and held out his hand with its baby soft skin and manicured nails. She caught a whiff of too much cologne mixed with sweat. "Hi, nice to meet you. How are you?"

  "The same as I was at lunch when we met. How are you?"

  The actor didn't respond. He seemed to be too busy leering at Marissa. "Could you be a doll and do something with my jacket?" He turned to talk to one of the men with him, who wasn't quite attractive enough to be an actor but was trying his best. "Who would have thought it would be in the seventies in November? I should have remembered that nothing is ever what it should be in Shitcinnati." He held out a tawny silk suit coat to her. "Be sure not to wrinkle it. That's a girl." He put a hand on the small of Marissa's back and gave her a push. "Hurry back, babe. I'll be waiting — for you."

  Now she had to contend with egos, monster male egos, as if she were paid for that along with decorating and putting up the displays. Why did every job seem to involve a large dose of pleasing men?

  Marissa said something under her breath and went back to the display cabinets. Unlocking an empty display, she stuffed the jacket into her oversized canvas purse and smiled at the thought of his dry cleaning bill. She felt the clamminess of the jacket on her palms and wiped them on her skirt.

  She stood up slowly, thinking about Steve Douglas. Oh yeah, a real hunk. His face was too red, and he sweat like he was in a sauna. Still, Marissa reached for the phone and dialed the number of the junior's department.

  "Anne, he's here, but you better be careful sneaking over to see him. Every boss is here too." Marissa slipped off a pump and wiggled her toes.

  Marissa swore that she heard a sigh at the other end of the line. "You are a wonderful friend, Marissa. Is he as gorgeous in person as he is on the screen?"

  "No. I don't really see the attraction. Besides, lest you forget, you're already married to a wonderful man."

  "I know Tom is a great guy, but we're talking Steve Douglas. Didn't you see his butt in Low Tide?"

  Marissa rolled her eyes. How could you get to be twenty-seven and be so naive? That was Anne all over. "Twice. Both times with you. It was a nice butt, but it's attached to one of the most egotistical men I've ever met. He called me 'babe'."

  "So who wants to talk to him?" Anne hung up the phone, and Marissa slumped against a poster of an embracing couple. Obviously those poster pair didn't have to work for a living. They didn't have kids who came along to wake you up at three in the morning to tell you they need a drink of juice.

  Marissa slipped her shoe on again and looked around. It had only been a few weeks since this place had been a shell of wires and concrete. Where did the time go? She'd only been working a year. Marissa stopped and shook her head. Now was definitely not the moment to be looking backwards.

  "Nicole, you have the bottle upside down. The brass should be at the top." The clerk gave Marissa a lopsided smile. She had not been Marissa's choice for a full-time cosmetics person, but management had overridden her decision for reasons the department head still couldn't fathom. The young clerk had blonde hair bobby-pinned into a style Marissa could only describe as a mess.

  Walking over to the display, Marissa flipped the big cardboard cutout of Opium and moved back towards the dais where the press conference would take place.

  For the event, a large dais with a red and green skirt around it had been installed at the main entrance leading into the mall. Management had thought that the crowd would overflow out of the store without disrupting Kantor's paying customers. Instead, people milled around the racks of dresses and suits just inside the entrance. Several news people lurked around the edges of the jewelry counter. Parts of the platform blocked the aisles to cosmetics which was the department directly across from the entrance. Marissa wondered what this was going to do to sales. Christmas was their busiest time of the year, the time when they made most of their annual profits.

  She took a place on the side of the platform so she could monitor the press conference as well as the needs of her department. Trying to train the three new permanent associates and two Christmas temps on a new computerized register was enough to run a person ragged. Not to mention the ten clerks from other stores, each one thinking that her way of doing business was the best. Add di
plomat to her resume.

  The five new saleswomen in the cosmetic department were all frantically ringing up the sales of Steve's cologne. Marissa felt sorry for all the husbands and boyfriends who would be wearing that scent for no other reason than their significant others wanted to meet a movie star.

  Harold Grayson, the president of Kantor's, cleared his throat, and the sound reverberated through the department. The head of Kantor's looked terribly uncomfortable standing in the gaggle of teen-aged girls. The few strands of hair running across his head stood out to the side and his girth made him more noticeable standing next to the lean, well-built actor. In his conservatively tailored gray suit, Marissa was sure he'd rather be at a holiday function with the high society crowd, an Indian Hills tea party or a Hyde Park social. He'd be the one sipping a cocktail and telling ever so slightly off-color jokes so as not to offend, smirking into his chins. Grayson gave the impression that working for a living was a little beneath him, but never enough to quit. He didn't even shop at this store, preferring to travel to New York City for his wardrobe.

  He stood on the dais with Zack, Steve, and two other men that Marissa didn't recognize. One of them was sure to be Steve's business manager. No women had earned the privilege to be represented in the presentation. "I have the great pleasure of introducing to you a man of great talent, a man who hails from the Queen City yet took Hollywood by storm, Mr. Steve Douglas." Squeals of delight came from the crowd. Marissa shook her head and wondered if Anne had been one of the screamers. "He's here today to introduce his new cologne, Perchance. It's a scent that will drive women wild for the man who wears it."

  Marissa snickered, wondering if it smelled like picking up their dirty clothes and remembering their anniversary. This had been a long day, and she felt punchy.

  Steve stepped up to the microphone. He was perspiring heavily now, and Marissa could see the damp stains on the back of his shirt as he faced the crowd. He waved to the people. "Thank you. It's a real honor to be back in my hometown after so many years. In a lot of ways, it feels like I've never been gone. I still remember — " Steve grabbed the microphone stand and pulled it to the ground with him. He lay on the ground and from Marissa's vantage point, she couldn't see him breathing.

  Chapter 2

  Marissa half ran back to the cosmetics counter, falling off her high heels once as she turned to see the scene on the dais. Steve Douglas had drawn a deep breath like a sigh and started convulsing as the men around him looked on helplessly. Marissa's first thought had been publicity stunt, but now she was convinced that the actor was in serious trouble. Steve wasn't a good enough actor to pull this one off. The realization left her unable to catch her own breath.

  As she reached the counter, she held out her hand to the salesclerk. "Nicole, phone. Now. Steve Douglas needs help." Her arm trembled, and she rested her elbow on the counter to steady it.

  "I already called 911. They're on their way." Nicole smiled at her. She looked like a puppy who had just brought the master's slippers and was waiting for a pat.

  "Thanks." Marissa breathed deeply and closed her eyes for a second. A wave of nausea engulfed her, but she pressed her lips into a thin line and swallowed hard. "Stay here and take care of the customers. Try to act as if everything is under control.” Under her breath, she added, "If you can do that, you should win an Oscar." She turned around again; crowd had grown in the past few minutes. People now stood outside of the store in the mall.

  As she started back to the podium, Anne Dillon stopped her. "Marissa, what's going on? Is Steve going to be all right?"

  Marissa looked at Anne's face with its freckles and little button nose. How could she tell Anne that her idol didn't look good here? "I don't know. If he's on some kind of medication, we can't ask him about it. He's unconscious at the moment. I had an uncle with epilepsy, and this reminds me of his attacks. The paramedics are on the way. I have to try to clear some of the people out of here so they can get through."

  "I hope it's not an overdose. I just couldn't stand it if I found out he was on cocaine or something." She wiped a tear from her freckled cheek. "After all, he just got out of the alcohol treatment center last month, just in time for the opening of Winter's Eve."

  Marissa pushed through the crowd. At least, Steve would not die unloved. She stopped at the bottom of the podium and yelled to Zack Martin. "Make an announcement that we need some room for the paramedics to get through. Is he under control?"

  Zack shook his head and drew a line across his throat. Marissa thought she might be sick, but the crowd was pressed so tight against her that she didn't know where she could turn.

  As the store manager picked up the microphone and began to speak, the wail of sirens could be heard from outside the mall. People pushed tighter against the podium before they were forced to make way for the authorities. Flashbulbs and videocameras continued to capture the actor's limp form on the stage. The police and the medical technicians arrived almost simultaneously, racing through the far doors towards the podium.

  Marissa turned and saw the metal mesh gate that acted as a door to the mall come down. She was surprised that management hadn't tried this at her last store to improve sales. Zack's face turned a shade of purple that wasn't on any lipstick chart.

  The police took charge of the scene, each officer performing a function that Marissa didn't understand. One shot photos while another dumped powder over the podium where Steve had stood a few minutes before. The lifeless body lay on the floor. Marissa wished it would move again even a convulsions.

  Two burly men hefted Steve's limp body onto a gurney. One pulled the sheet up over the actor's face as several customers looked on. Marissa could see a woman crying as another took snapshots. The paramedics maneuvered Steve towards the exit, in the same manner Marissa moved cartons of perfume.

  After the stretcher with the actor's body left the store, Marissa started back to her department. Zack called out to her. "Marissa, Marissa, — wait — do you have a moment?"

  With a resigned air, she retraced her steps to the raised platform. The crowd had dissipated, but stragglers still loitered around the entrance to the store, looking longingly at the mall through the mesh fence.

  "What it is?" She leaned heavily against the edge of the stage, brushing the police tape aside.

  "The police want to question everyone in the store. Detectives are on the way, but the customers are trapped in here until they supply the police with their names and numbers. Could you please stay around here and meet the detectives? We want to call corporate and tell them what's going on here." Marissa came out of her shock to realize that Zack was entirely unaffected. Did he miss what just happened or did being in management mean he gave up his humanity? "We need to move fast if we're going to control the damage that this has done to the store. If you could stay here, we could make that call. Then you can bring them around to the offices when they're done questioning you." Marissa tried to catch her breath as the man spoke, but her lungs wouldn't co-operate. She wrapped her arms across her waist and squeezed, trying to hold in the emotions that were so close to the surface now.

  "Why are the police doing this? Wasn't it an epileptic attack or heart condition?" Marissa covered her eyes with one hand, and gave thanks for waterproof mascara as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  Zack shrugged. "I don't know. The paramedics said that it's routine for the police to investigate a case of sudden death, especially when the victim is young. I don't have time to talk to them."

  "Well, where's Adam? He's supposed to be in charge of security. I already have a job." The police pushed past her, taking more pictures.

  "Crowd control. We only had one person supervising all the rent-a-cops scheduled for today. We didn't think there would be problems like this."

  Marissa nodded and walked through her department to her office. At least, she would get to sit down for a few minutes. The metal folding chair wasn't comfortable, but it beat standing. She kept her eyes open to avoid recalling t
he sweat-soaked stain on the podium she had just left, now surrounded by the police tape. She stared at the pattern of the Italian tile floor and wondered who designed it. The whole store was to be a showplace for the city.

  The police detectives arrived within a few minutes. Rhonda, one of the new cosmetic clerks, brought them to the swinging door entrance of her office. The uniformed policeman and his escorts pushed their way past the girl and looked at Marissa intently.

  She pulled herself to her feet and walked to the door, extending her hand as she approached them. "I'm Marissa Scott, the manager for the cosmetics department at Kantor's. I understand you need to ask some questions about — what happened here."

  The younger man grinned at Marissa. He had a big smile and a nice face to go with it, not handsome, but definitely worth a second glance. His light brown hair curled a little just above his ears. Marissa was so busy noticing his ears that she didn't hear the question. Try to keep your wits about you, she reminded herself. The man cleared his throat and repeated the question. "Where did the death occur?"

  Marissa felt her face flush slightly. She was too tired to try to stop the burning in her cheeks. Joshua had been up since three and she with him. "On the podium over there. He seemed to be okay at the luncheon, but when I saw him just before the press conference, he was flushed and sweating, like he had run a race. He said a few words and then collapsed on stage. By the time we called 911, Zack told me that Steve was already dead." She escorted them out to the dais.

  "Who's Zack?" The officer smiled again as he looked around. She noticed his straight, white teeth.

  "The store manager. He's upstairs on the phone, grieving over Steve's untimely demise."

  The older man flipped open a small notebook. Marissa was determined to pay attention this time and barely bothered to look at the cute homicide detective or the uniformed officer. Staring at the older man, she did notice little tufts of hair growing from his ears. At least now she could concentrate on giving him a makeover. "The paramedics suspected some kind of poison or toxin, which means an unnatural death. What can you tell us about this lunch you had? Anything else Steve ingested today? Was it just the two of you?"