She had a wide-brimmed black hat on and sunglasses so that no one would recognize her.
She held on tight to her huge shoulder bag.
She looked around the store with the corner of her eyes, facing the door, where just outside her mother/manager was waiting for her in their Range Rover.
She tried not to break out into a huge, victorious smile as she got closer to the exit of this high-end retail store.
Just a few more feet and you're home free, Jackie! You got this, you cute little klepto!
She walked past the detectors. No alarm sounded. The automatic doors were opening. Sunshine waited for her outside.
And then it happened.
"Excuse me, miss," she thought she heard someone say.
Shit, shit, shit!
She winced and ignored it and quickened her pace.
Go, go, go!
A hand grabbed her.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
She tried to wrench free of it, but now two men had a hold of her.
"What is this?" she cried out, struggling.
"You have to come with us, miss," one of them said.
"No, I don't."
But they were already pulling her along, these two huge men with unwelcoming faces. Some of the other female shoppers glanced in her direction.
"My mother's waiting for me," she complained, as they pulled her towards the back of the store.
She cursed and struggled until they brought her into a small, dingy security room.
"Have a seat there, miss," said the other man, a sandy blonde-haired man with a British accent.
Jackie glared at the security guard. Then she glanced at his companion standing by the door with his arms crossed.
Trapped.
She plopped down on a chair in the middle of the room with a loud sigh of defeat and a curse.
"You got this, Mike?" said the man by the door.
"Sure, mate," Mike said, leaning back on a table, staring down at Jackie.
She covered her face and waited.
Mike stood there, writing on a clipboard.
"You know why we detained you, miss?" he asked finally.
She rolled her eyes and sat back.
"We've been observing you for about twenty minutes."
She clicked her tongue and shook her head.
"And you've been on quite a little shopping spree, haven't you?"
She crossed her legs and stared at the table.
"Well, let's have looksee, eh?"
Mike took her shoulder bag and began pulling items out: a Gucci cashmere sweater, lace thongs from Dior, a small wallet from Louis Vuitton, two Kobi Halperin silk dresses, and a pair of soft sheen yoga pants.
"Mm-hm," Mike said. "Quite the booty you acquired there, isn't it, you little pirate?"
"Look, I was gonna pay for that stuff," Jackie said.
"Oh yeah? You get lost on the way to the checkout?"
"No..."
"You're in quite a pickle, let me be honest," he said. "Over a thousand dollars-worth here. Not a bad haul."
The other security guard opened the door and stepped out.
"What else you got?" Mike asked.
"Nothing else."
"Well, I have to search you, you know?"
She sighed.
"I'm going to need you to stand up."
She cursed and jumped to her feet, rolling her eyes at the ceiling.
"Arms up, luv," he said.
She raised her arms.
"Let's see here," he said. He stood behind her and checked the pockets of her ripped baggy jeans. "Thick pants," he said, as he began to pat her down from her thighs to her feet. He slid his hands back up and felt around her inner thighs.
She flinched and glared back at him. "Dude!"
"It's all right, luv," he said.
He patted her sweater--the back, the front, the arms, under her breasts, making her flinch again.
"Hey!" she said.
"Apologies," he said close to her ear. "Just doing my job."
She scoffed. "Right."
His hands slid back down to her waist. She squirmed as his hands touched her buttocks. And she jumped when she felt a hand between her legs.
"What the fuck!"
He held his hands up. "You never know, miss."
She glared at his face. His eyes were twinkling. She stared at the little smile he was giving her before she turned back around to face the wall.
"Asshole," she muttered.
"The hat," he said.
"Really?"
"Yea."
She pulled off the hat and let her hair drop. He took it from her and checked it before placing it on the table.
"And the glasses?" he said.
"What, am I hiding shit behind my sunglasses?"
"What if it's our sunglasses?"
"It's not."
"Obviously, I can't take your word for it. Plus, for identification purposes..."
She cursed and pulled off her sunglasses.
Here it comes, she thought. He'll recognize me now.
But Mike said nothing as he placed the Versace shades on the table.
"All right, have a seat again, dear."
She plopped down again.
Maybe I'm in the clear, she hoped.
"Jackie," he said. His eyes squinted. His brow furrowed.
Dammit.
"Oh!" he said.
"No," she began before he even said anything.
"Jackie Rose," he said.
"I-I, no, I'm not, I just look like, shit--"
He leaned back on the table. "I saw your last movie, Miss Rose. It was all right."
"Great," she groaned. Her face brightened. "Are you a fan, by any chance?"
He shrugged. "It was a braindead actioner, but you looked...real good...as the sexy double agent."
"Thanks."
The way he was looking her over made her wonder: He's picturing my nude scene, isn't he?
