Stella reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I’m not mad. I love you both.” Her nose wrinkles. “Just... maybe don’t give me details? He’s still my brother.”
“Well to be honest,” I bite my lip. “We only kissed, and it is your brother.”
“He’s a ho.” Frankie nods. “Total man whore.”
“Hey,” Foxy chides. “So was Bane, but once you came into the picture he became a reformed ho.”
Pain slashes across Frankie’s face, and Foxy flinches.
“I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t think.”
“No it’s fine.” Frankie sighs. I have a feeling there’s a story there.
“Okay, but let’s get back to the details,” Brooklyn murmurs as she lifts her sunglasses and looks under the frame, “what’s the plan here? Are you hiding out here until they find this asshole?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I still need to film my tutorial today. I can’t lose my streak.”
The old ladies exchange confused glances.
“Tutorial?” Roxy asks, tilting her head like a curious bird.
“For Tokker,” I explain. “I’m a beauty influencer. I review products, do makeup tutorials—that kind of thing.”
Foxy’s perfectly sculpted brow arches higher. “And this pays your bills?”
“It does,” I nod. “Actually, I’m working toward the Trend Setter Award. If my content trends for twelve weeks straight, I win a five-thousand-dollar cash prize.”
At the mention of money, the confusion turns to interest.
“And how many weeks have you done?” Frankie asks.
“Four. I need eight more, but I have to post consistently.” I glance around the clubhouse. “I was filming when Journey saw the message and pulled the plug.” I’m still not happy about that.
“So what do you need to film?” Foxy asks, leaning forward.
“Makeup, decent lighting, and a model would be nice. I usually film on myself, but...” I gesture helplessly at my face. “I already did mine this morning.”
Frankie raises her hand. “Use me.” Her cheeks flush slightly. “I haven’t had someone do my makeup since my prom, and I was twelve so…”
My brows go up. “Twelve?”
“She’s a genius.” Foxy waves like that’s not a big deal.
The other women laugh, and suddenly they’re all offering to help. Roxy calls a prospect named City over and instructs him to go to her house and bring back her makeup bag. Foxy tells him to grab hers too.
“Mine’s blue,” she adds. “And if you mess with anything else in my house, they’ll never find your body.”
City nods solemnly and hurries out.
Stella pulls up the Tokker app on her phone and shows the old ladies my account. “See? Look at her last tutorial. She’s amazing.”
Brooklyn pushes her sunglasses up and yawns. “I’ll supervise,” she announces as she drops in the chair beside me, leans her head back, and shuts her eyes.
By the time City returns with the makeup bags, I’ve cleared space at the table and set up my phone on a coffee mug. “You’re sure you want to do this?” I ask Frankie, who looks a little nervous about being filmed. “I can be kind of extra on camera.”
“Bring it on,” she says, smiling. “I trust you.”
I look around at the women gathered—Stella beaming proudly, Foxy and Roxy watching on eagerly, and Brooklyn pretending to be asleep but definitely peeking. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’ve found my people.
