Tinsley glanced back over her shoulder, to where I was looking. Why is she so weird? I wondered, angrily. The tension in my shoulders was back, the desire to drink and be merry all but gone.

“Yeah, I know. I was trying to find the light switch but couldn’t.”

I frowned, watching the girl swirl and swipe, uselessly smearing the mess around on the floor. I thought about how long I’d been standing in the kitchen, thinking about how great I felt. And how long I’d wandered around, looking for that corkscrew. There was no way she was simply standing in the pantry in the dark with the door closed, looking around for a light, for all that length of time. Perhaps she was a drug user, sneaking in the pantry to shoot up or something. I considered her warily. This generation had no morals or values anymore, so I wouldn’t be surprised...

I thought about calling Tinsley out on the lie but arguing with the strange young woman seemed like a big fat waste of my time. We were going out for drinks and dinner in an hour, and I needed to take a nice long shower and change.

“Well, I’ll see you later,” I said, leaving the girl to clean up the mess she had caused.

Chapter Eighteen

Mara

The best friend

After confirming our dinner reservations, I joined Bri and Georgia in the sunroom. The masseuses were folding up their massage tables and putting away their oils and linens. The whole room smelled calm, like lavender and eucalyptus.

Georgia looked great—rested, fit, and stunning as usual—especially considering all that wheezing and throat rasping from the previous night. The only evidence of her recent reaction was her slightly swollen lips. They were puckered and plump, like two ripe plums on her face. Typical of that bitch to look better after suffering from a severe allergic reaction.

She had her phone poised in front of her face, taking a selfie of herself and Bri. I didn’t offer to take the picture for them, and they didn’t invite me to join them either.

It was not until the masseuse with the big Dolly Parton hair approached, that I remembered I hadn’t fully paid them. I remembered now that it was half down at the time of booking and half on the day of their services. Shit. I needed to find Tinsley.

As the masseuse stood around, awkwardly waiting for payment, I felt my heart rate rising. I didn’t have the money to pay her, or anyone today. Not after the debacle with my bank account and all those fraudulent charges.

I owed Tinsley a shitload of money, but she would just have to wait a while.