“Oh, I’m so embarrassed,” she managed to say.

“Derek is the one who should be embarrassed. You’re not the first person he’s delivered in this condition. I bet he was in that tiny trap he calls a car.”

“Yes, it was a small car,” Lauren said. She sat down on a padded bench, kicked off her soiled shoes, and managed to remove her stockings without getting dizzy. “If you could unzip me, I think I’ll be okay.”

Sandra Marie unzipped her dress, and Lauren stepped out of it, glad she’d worn matching black bra and panties. “If you’ll show me the shower,” she said, starting to feel slightly human.

“This way,” Sandra Marie directed.

Lauren followed her to a room that looked like a spa. It was darker in there, thankfully, and it smelled like aloe or cucumber. It was not unpleasant. The same brand of toiletries that she’d seen in the airplane were here also.

“This shower has a seat,” Sandra Marie said. “Just toss your underthings in the plastic bag, and I’ll have them cleaned. I’ll have something for you to wear before you finish your shower.”

Lauren wasn’t about to ask how. “Thanks,” she said.

“There are towels and washcloths, everything you need in here.” She opened another door, revealing a giant, glassed-in shower with a seat.

It was all marble, the fixtures a soft gold; Lauren wondered if they were the real deal. She didn’t care as long as they worked.

“I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

Lauren nodded and closed the door. She adjusted the shower and, removing her underclothes, stepped under the warm spray, letting the water wash away the vomit from her body. She used the shampoo to wash her hair, then scrubbed herself with body wash. When she felt she’d removed all traces of her nightmare car ride, she wrapped herself in the same style of robe she’d worn at the penthouse. She wrapped her hair in a towel and returned to the bench to sit down. She was still light-headed, unsure if she could pull off this interview that day. She certainly wasn’t feeling confident and sure of herself. This very well could cause her to lose this contract. Angela would be outraged.

“These should fit just fine,” Sandra Marie said.

“You have clothes here?” she asked, stating the obvious.

“We have everything here. I took a guess, brought a size-two dress; it’s last year’s Calvin Klein. I hope that’s okay. Underclothes, stockings, and I guessed a six in a shoe.”

“Perfect,” she said. “I’ll just take a minute to rest, if that’s okay.” She felt quite weak; she probably should eat something, but right now, that was out of the question.

“Rest all you want. I’ve got ginger ale, some saltines, and a box of Dramamine if you want them.”