Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“Honestly, I’m f—”
“We won’t accept no for an answer. The boys are going to see Billy. He’ll be fine.”
I cringe. “He’s not very visitor friendly, Penny.”
“Then he can throw them out if he wants. But you are coming with us. There will be no talk of . . .” She pauses. “We’ll gossip. Drink. Discuss butt implants.”
I smile at her persistence, but I really can’t afford to be drinking cocktails at London prices. Not that I would dream of sharing that.
“It’s my treat,” Penny says, as if hearing my dilemma. “What do you say? Come on, Lo.”
I bite my lip, caught in a state of conflict. “I shouldn’t be having fun,” I say out loud, only meaning to think it.
“We won’t. We’re boring as shit. Didn’t you know?”
I laugh lightly and slowly nod. “Just for a few.”
“We’re meeting at the Radio Rooftop at seven. See you there.” She hangs up promptly, narrowing the chances of me changing my mind, and I breathe in as I step into the elevator. Time out. Just look at it as time out. Maybe it’s the kind of time out I’ve needed all along, with appropriate people. Part of me is a tad resentful of my absent friends. If they’d been here all along, maybe I wouldn’t be so crippled by this guilt I just can’t shake.
I find Penny and Helen in the bar, and I get a squeeze from both of them. “How’s Billy?” Penny asks, sitting down and pushing an elaborate strawberry daiquiri toward me.
“Yes, how is he?” Helen chimes in, her face a masterpiece of empathy. I look back to Penny, and hers is just as sorrowful.
“He’s fine,” I answer, lying. He’s not gotten out of bed all day and he hasn’t eaten a thing. I slide onto the stool and truly savor the first slurp of my cocktail.
“It’s so tragic.” Helen shakes her head slowly, looking thoughtfully past me.
“It is,” Penny agrees. “I just don’t know what I’d do.”
I swallow and look down at my drink, stirring it slowly with my straw. Is this how it’s going to be all night? Another pity party?
“I mean, the stress and the worry.” Helen sighs. “Life can be so cruel.”
“It can.” Penny reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Poor Billy. He’s so brave.”
I strain a smile. I can’t bear this. It was a battle to get myself ready to come here. I wouldn’t have bothered had I known the mood would be so dire. What happened to the times we used to talk about . . . well, anything? “Did you go on holiday this year?” I ask chirpily, trying to move the conversation along.
“Yes,” Penny chimes, indicating to Helen. “We all went to Cancun. It was wonderful.”
I see Helen jolt on her stool, and then Penny winces. She just booted her under the table.
“I mean . . .” Penny’s smile dies. “It wasn’t that much fun.”
I take refuge in another slurp of my drink before I slip down from my stool. “I’m just going to the ladies’.” I walk away, hearing the hushed whispers of my friends as I go, no doubt Helen chastising Penny for being so inconsiderate. It’s not inconsiderate at all. That’s their life, happy and fulfilled. Fun. Just because mine isn’t doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear their stories. Watching them looking and sounding so awkward isn’t how I planned on spending my evening. This isn’t helping. I was promised no sympathy, for crying out loud.
I use the toilet and wash my hands, leaning into the mirror to inspect my face. My eye sockets are so dark. Applying a little more concealer, I stand back, tilting my head to get all angles. It’s no good. No amount of makeup will hide my exhaustion. I give up and head back to the table.
Penny and Helen quickly halt their conversation and both smile at me. I swear, if they offload anymore morbid comments, I’ll scream. So to avoid that, I decide to tell them not to be so careful with their words. “Guys”—I look at each of them in turn— “I don’t want you to—” My intended fix-it speech fades when I catch sight of someone across the bar amid the crowds. My heart starts to gallop, and I have no idea why. Nerves? Stress?
“Lo?” Penny reaches over and takes my hand, and I look at her blankly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I scan the gatherings of people, but after searching every nook and cranny of the space, I don’t see him. “I thought I saw someone I knew.” I return my attention to Penny and Helen, certain that I’m seeing things. Picking up my drink, I try to remember where I was, but I fail to recall, so I toast the air and sip. I don’t know what the hell I’m toasting.