“Neverfear, Agnes. Tits are number one on my list.”
“I show my tits plenty,” I protest.
“Do not,” Aggie shoots back. “Even if you did, that bra you’re wearing’s crap.”
“All my bras are crap! I bulk-buy them from the same place I get cocktail napkins from.”
“And you wonder why blokes don’t ask you ‘round for a bit of ‘how’s your father.’” Aggie points at my chest. “All men love a gal in classy undies.”
“Rich coming from a woman whose lingerie appears to be entirely cheetah print,” I tease.
Aggie cackles. “Classy is as classy does, Cecelia.”
“Okay, first step: new underwear,” Ada says, scribbling frantically.
“What? Why would we start there?”
“Thirst traps, my naïve friend. You’re getting the girls out, and you can’t be doing that in bras with holes.”
“Ada, I can’t afford new underwear. A guy tried to rip my knickers off last year, and I almost thumped him. That’s why I don’t have lingerie. What possesses men to think destroying thirty-dollar panties is a solid way to prove their passion?”
Ada’s expression is pitiful. “Babe… We both know you weren’t wearing thirty-dollar panties.”
“I could have been! I might still have nice stuff left from when I had a real job!”
She shoots me a look that clearly says, ‘Don’t lie to me.’ To be fair, Ada does most of our laundry. She has firsthand knowledge of my underwear situation.
“Tomorrow morning we’re getting up early and going straight to David Jones for some Agent Provocateur,” she says, still scribbling, “Then we take photos and start posting for the pleasure of all, but especially Will Sharpe.”
I imagine Will stumbling across a post of me looking beautiful and grown up behind my own bar. Butterflies flick through my stomach, but they’re accompanied by a familiar tightening in my chest. “Sounds good.”
It doesn’t sound good at all. But maybe it’ll be worth it if I can go to this reunion and finally fulfil my high school dream.
“Who’s this Will, then?” Aggie asks.
“Total pin-dick from Pukekohe,” Ada says absently.
“He is not!” I protest.
“What’s wrong with him?” Aggie turns to Ada. “Not good enough for Cece?”
She rolls her eyes. “Not good enough to plunge a toilet with his head, more like.”
“Ada!” I snap. “That’s not true, Aggie. Will is handsome and successful and runs his own business,andhe goes hiking and golfing all the time. I don't know how he does it…”
“I do.” Ada puts a thumb to one nostril and snorts loudly.
“Ada! Will does not…” I lower my voice to a whisper, “… usecocaine.”
“Yeah. Because no one’s ever successfully used cocaine in New Zealand. Ya boy’s snorting baby laxatives and meth. Bet the results are quite similar, though.”
The kitchen door swings open and Davis comes in, his dark hair all ruffled from the wind. “Who’s doing meth?”
“Everyone in this bar,” Ada says, scribbling away on her notepad. “Freebasing and glass pipes and everything. Turns out you’re shit at your job.”
“Demon,” Davis mutters before smiling at Aggie. “Heya.”
“Hello, darl.” Aggie holds out her arms, and he lets her pull him into a hug.
