“That’s fine. I want honesty.”
She laughs. “Okay, hungover with false eyelashes glued to my cheek. You’ve got it.”
Hers is going to be my favorite profile pic.
While I’m digging through the drawers for a pen that works, I find a lockbox.
I pull out my sparkly clutch. I have two keys—one to JP’s house and another that I’ve never found a home for. I fish it out of the bottom and insert it into the lockbox. It fits perfectly. When I open the box I find a Crown Royal bag and I know what’s in it. It’s the thirty-five grand Kobra paid for his match with Crystal.
I scream.
When I’m cross-eyed from working all day as a business genius who just discovered a life-saving windfall, I come out of my office and sit on the stripper walkway, kicking my legs off the side and eating a fresh basket of fried mozzarella sticks. Life isn’t so bad.
I check my Instagram and see a lot of love for my Mia 2.0 posts—and a lot of DMs from girls who are excited for me.
That French guy wasn’t cute enough for you, girl! Love the new nerd!
Has he called yet? Stay strong!!
My phone rings. It’s a number not stored in my contacts, but I pick up anyway. “Hello?”
“Mia?” It’s a feminine voice. Tentative.
“Yes, who is this?”
There’s a long pause before the woman says, “It’s your mother.”
I almost choke on a mozzarella stick. “What?”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you that night,” she says.
“Wait. You know what happened to me?”
“I saw your picture on theMySelfiewall at the museum. I’m so sorry, sweetie. I wish I’d seen it sooner or been there for you.” I was doing great this afternoon, rethinking the business and finding money. But a mom? That’s next-level support. Yesterday I would have been full-out crying if she called. Not today, though. Just a few tears prick at the back of my eyes.
Someone keeps buzzing in with texts, but I don’t answer. I’m not going to interrupt a reunion with my mom.
“I lost my memory that night. I don’t know anything. I don’t remember you.”
I can hear her gasp a little. She’s trying to hide it, but she’s crying. “Where are you, sweetie? I’m coming to you now.”
“I’m at GoldRush, that strip club down on the PCH.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line for a while. When she’s processed my location, she sighs. “Okay, honey. I’m coming now. Give me twenty minutes.”
I hang up and run screaming toward Crystal.
“CRYSTAL! My mom is coming! I know it might be a little weird, but…I think we’ve been estranged and now we’re going to reconcile? I can’t tell, but I didn’t have her numberin my phone and I get the feeling that something happened between us.”
“Well, things might get a little interesting.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kobra just texted and said he’s on his way. Apparently he saw one of your Instagram posts. He knows we’re here.”
“What the? What’s that dude’s deal? Why won’t he leave us alone?” I had crafted a leisurely takedown plan in which I would carefully extract a string of confessions from him and send him straight to jail.
Crystal says, “Either he wants another date or he wants to kill me because I’m a witness to that one dude’s death.”
