Chapter 6
6
S tartled by the tawny sunrays that blasted through the curtains, I sat up with a start. I frowned at the alarm clock on the nightstand, confused by the numbers. I’d expected it to be maybe ten, eleven o’clock in the morning, but it was five in the afternoon. Somehow ( eh-hem , two bottles of wine), I’d slept straight through the day.
I groped around and found the lamp, cringing as its harsh light assaulted my retinas. My hung-over eyes were sandpapery, my mouth plastered shut. My tongue made a revolting smacking sound as I sucked it loose. I needed water desperately.
I pulled on my robe and padded into the kitchen. Much to my relief, the apartment was quiet. There was a note on the fridge:
Went to stay at David’s.
You know where to find me.
—L
I’d been hoping Liz had been so drunk last night that she’d wake up this morning completely oblivious to the screaming match that had taken place, a kind of merlot lobotomy. Evidently, that wasn’t the case. She must still be really pissed if she was willing to endure David’s weird, stinky roommate for the sake of avoiding me. I felt bad about the words we’d exchanged, but if that’s how she wanted to be, fine. Stubborn as she was, there was nothing I could say or do to smooth things over until she was ready to smooth things over. I’d just have to wait it out.
I yanked open the fridge and nearly wept at the sight of the full Brita pitcher. Two gigantic glasses of wonderfully cold liquid later and my thirst was quenched. I returned the jug to the fridge and explored the scant contents inside. As usual there wasn’t much to eat, unless an expired bottle of ketchup and unidentifiable piece of shriveled fruit qualified as food. Plus, there was the godforsaken grapefruit juice, which might as well have been marked with a skull and crossbones.
If only I had money for pizza , I thought, letting out a squeal as I suddenly remembered the thousand bucks I’d won. I trotted back to my bedroom and snatched my purse off the floor, dumping the cash onto the bed. I’d be lying if I claimed I felt no urge to flop down and roll around naked amongst the bills, even if there was only ten.
I frowned at the white rectangle standing out from all the green, it’s sleek, bold lettering as intriguing as when I’d first read it. DIGNITARY. Curious, I pulled out my laptop and ran a quick Google search for the business. Not surprising, I came up empty.
That pale rich guy, Michael, had said Dignitary was exclusive, and that his clients valued their privacy. But what service, exactly, did he provide? Whatever it was, I hadn’t forgotten how rich he’d said it could make me.
I glanced at the money on my bed. While I was happy I’d won it, it was merely a drop in the bucket considering how much I owed bill collectors. And then there was the other pressing matter of having to find somewhere new to live.
I picked up the card and tapped it against my palm. I could keep an open mind. It wouldn’t hurt to call and see what I was missing, right? If I got the sense anything hinky was happening, I could just hang up. There was no crime in that.
Still, my heart was thudding.
Before I had a chance to chicken out, I grabbed my phone and tapped in the number.
A woman answered on the first ring. “Hello, Dignitary. How can I help?” Her tone was melodious yet crisp, with an accent that, like Michael’s, was hard to pinpoint.
“H-Hi,” I stuttered. I’d been so busy talking myself into calling that I hadn’t stopped to consider what I was going to say if anyone answered. “Last night I was . . . At the bar . . . I met . . .”
The woman’s end was so silent that I’d thought she’d hung up.
“Hello?” I squeaked.
“I’m here,” she said sharply, the subtext being: I don’t have time for this shit . Spit it out.
I swallowed. “My name is Olivia Taylor. Michael gave me his card last night and told me to call?”
“Oh, yes, Olivia,” she chirped, suddenly nicey-nicey. “Michael told me all about you.”
He did?
“I’m Marlena, Michael’s business partner.”
“Hi Mar—”
“Would you like to come down for a visit? We’d love to show you around the place.”
Maybe it was gullible of me, but I felt better knowing that a female was involved in the operation. At the very least, some of what Michael had told me was proving to be true. “When would you like to meet?”
“How about nine?”
“Tonight?”
She chuckled. “Sure, why not? We’re very informal around here. But if you already have plans, we could schedule for another time.”
“No,” I said hastily. Better to get it done sooner rather than later, lest I lose the nerve. “I mean, no, I don’t have any plans. Yes, I can be there at nine.”
“Fantastic.” I could hear the smile in her voice as she provided me the address.