“Are not.”
“We’re going!” I yelled.
“What’s goin’ on!” Buddy shouted.
“Sadie,” Lee Nightingale said.
I looked to my left then up and saw Lee standing there.
Someone, please tell me Lee was not standing there.
Someone else, please tell me that Had-to-Be-Hector’s-Relative was not standing beside him.
This stunk.
I dropped Ralphie’s wrist and turned to Lee.
Luckily, I wasn’t casual, barefoot and in a huge sweatshirt. I had on my armor. A bone-colored, pencil skirt, a matching, fitted, silk-knit turtleneck and a pair of lush, beige, spike-heeled Jimmy Choo boots. My hair was pulled severely away from my face but burst in a riot of waves and curls from the clip at my neck. I had a thick, heavy, pure gold bangle at my wrist and long, wide, gold hoops at my ears.
Barring the cast on my wrist it was the Ice Princess Outfit to end all Ice Princess Outfits.
Therefore, as I was unsuccessful at avoiding it, when the time arrived, I was ready.
“Lee,” I said, assuming Chill Factor Sub-Zero.
Lee ignored the Chill Factor Sub-Zero something, by the way, which was happening all the time these days and it was beginning to get on my nerves.
“How are you?” Lee asked, his voice not professional or cordial but warm and genuine.
“I’d be a lot better if people would stop asking me how I was,” I replied immediately and icily. “I got raped. Unfortunately, it happens every day.”
“Sadie!” Ralphie hissed angrily from beside me as I watched Lee flinch.
He actually flinched, like I’d slapped him across the face. Which, verbally, I had.
I was such a bitch.
My stomach clutched and if I didn’t get away I was going to start crying. And that could not happen.
I turned to Ralphie and announced, “I need a drink.”
Ralphie was having none of it.
He switched on the attitude, complete with hand on hip and clipped, “What you need to do is apologize to Mr. Hot Guy here.”
I glared ice daggers at Ralphie but he didn’t back down.
“Fine,” I declared, giving up in order to get away. “I’ll get my own f**king drink.”
Then without looking at Lee or Hector-Relative-Guy, with back straight and head held high, I walked to the bar.
I stopped at the bar telling myself I could do this. This was a walk in the park for me. I’d survive this and whatever next torture life had to offer me. I could survive it all.
The bartender asked me what I wanted and I told him, “Three lemon drops. No wait! Four.”
I was going to double up. I’d need serious vodka flowing through my veins to get through this night. And get through the night I would.
Fuck them. Fuck them all. Fuck the world!