And then she smelled that smell again. Yes, she definitely smelled something…musky. That was it, the distinct smell of sour body. Had Dakota come up here for something before he left? She clutched the pillow to her chest, sniffing the air like a beagle on the hunt. Winnie would ask him later; in the meantime, she opened one of her drawers, pulling out a dainty glass bottle, and squirted it four times into the air. The sweaty smell was gone, replaced by orange blossom. The cheap stuff never lingered in the air like the good stuff did. Call her a snob, everyone else did. The same went for this house. Nigel had wanted one of those crappy, cheaply built model homes, but Winnie had put her foot down; it was her money, after all. Now she lived in her dream home with her dream man.

“Okay, spill,” Vicky was saying. Winnie didn’t want to spill; she didn’t like when the tea was about her, but she’d forgotten Friendsgiving, and telling Vicky about Dakota would distract her from that.

She launched into the story after an eager “Spare nothing!” from Vicky. Hosting the damn thing had seemed like a good idea a year ago. Now Nigel was going to resent her even more.

By the time Winnie sat down at her desk, Vicky was in full advice mode. She half listened to Vicky’s story about her delinquent sister-in-law who always placed the blame on her brother Tommy when they fought. “…so really, Winnie, we don’t know the story, and Manda is probably overreacting.”

“You’re probably right,” she said.

During college, Vicky had a horrendous crush on Dakota, who was a freshman to her junior. She’d wanted to marry him “So we can be sisters!” When Dakota deflected her advances, Vicky had moved on to his roommate: Mack.

Winnie held the phone between her shoulder and ear and typed her password into her computer. She was thinking about the joints in the back of her underwear drawer, the ones that Dakota had got for her. She wasn’t usually a weed smoker, but lately, she was so stressed she felt like she was losing her mind.

“Have to go, V, I have a million things to do before tomorrow.”

“Okay, text me the deets.”

“Sure.” Winnie hated when Vicky said “deets.” She also hated that Vicky insisted on calling their gathering Friendsgiving just because Taylor Swift did it.

After she hung up with Vicky, she called Nigel straightaway. When he picked up, it felt like a great fist had grabbed her stomach and squeezed.

“Are you serious, Winnie? We just moved Dakota in. No.”

“Nigel, they planned their trips to visit family around this. We’ve literally had these plans for a year. We can’t just cancel on them!”

“We can, because things happen. They’ll get over it.”

“I can’t believe you’re being so dismissive about this.”