“Fun fact: there are zero drivers available at this location. Isn’t that interesting? I didn’t know there were still places on this continent you couldn’t get service. Hey! Maybe I should do an article on the last rideshare deserts. You could be one of my sources.”
“I’m not thinking quotable thoughts right now, Hildy.”
“Sure, I get it. But that would add a killer opening. ‘POV: You just got dumped and desperately need to get away from your ex. But instead you’re trapped in the quicksand of modern dating nightmares: no cars available.”
“Catchy,” Jean said.
“Sorry. I’ll switch to my solutions mindset.” She made a swiping motion in front of her face. “Maybe you could borrow a horse?”
Someone had been soaking up too much frontier ambience. “I’m going to go for a walk. See if something comes to me.”
Jean left the wagon without a clear plan. It felt like being seven again, running away from home with her pillow and half a pack of cookies because her parents wouldn’t let her stay up to watchGrey’s Anatomy. At least her grievances had gotten more legit with age.
As she walked, Jean considered her options. Daddy Koenig might be willing to help, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Sergeant Cowboy would tell her to tough it out. Weirdly, the person who seemed most likely to offer assistance was Adriana Asebedo—but you couldn’t ask someone to rescue you when they were part of your problem.
Two names that did not cross her mind were Mountain Dew and Ponytail, her early-morning visitors. And yet that was exactly who appeared in her hour of need.
“Hey,” Ponytail said, grabbing Jean’s arm. “What are you doing?”
“I have absolutely no idea,” Jean replied, honestly.
They laughed like she’d said something funny.
Mountain Dew stared into Jean’s eyes for a borderline uncomfortable stretch before giving a decisive nod. “You’re coming with us.”
Which was how she ended up partying with Adriana Asebedo’s dancers and backup singers all afternoon. If by “party” you meant yoga and meditation, a chair massage, and a gloppy-yet-surprisingly-tasty green drink that was allegedly better for her than “a vitamin IV,” though they made her promise to also try one of those ASAP.
“It’s like being reborn,” Ponytail (whose real name was Jessica) promised, and Jean had to admit she liked the sound of that. Bonus points if they could also do a memory wipe of the last month of her life.
Conspicuous among the sci-fi stylings of the beauty tools and health supplements were the humble mason jars of Mugsy’s teas. From what Jean could tell, all the creativity went into the beverages themselves, because the handwritten labels gave off strong “I don’t have time for this nonsense” vibes. Much like their maker.
“I’m surprised they didn’t hook you up with beer,” Jean said.
“Too bloating before a show,” Mountain Dew (aka Pax) told her. “And these teas are Adriana’s favorite, if you know what I mean.” Pierced eyebrows arched, assuming Jean understood the subtext.
She connected the dots easily enough. Being nice to his beloved former babysitter would get you plenty of bonus points with Charlie. Not that Adriana Asebedo needed to exert herself to impress anyone. All she had to say was,Want to hold my Grammy?OrLet’s fly to Belize for the weekend!Shelling out for homebrewed teas was the equivalent of buying a candy bar for Jean.
“Adriana doesn’t eat with you?” she asked Pax, over the light-yet-satisfying lunch the tour’s private chef had prepared for the crew. It was hard to resent someone who regularly treated her employees to restaurant-quality food, but Jean was trying.
“She needed some alone time.” This was relayed in such a gossipy hush Jean knew it was code for “she’s busy ripping off Charlie’s clothes.”
You’ll have to put them back on him first,she thought, with a bitterness that rivaled the Meyer lemon vinaigrette on a dish that had suddenly become unappetizing.
“I don’t suppose any of you have a car?” she asked, trying to look trustworthy. “Or a truck? Windowless van? Anything faster than a lawnmower.”
“You need a ride, babe?” Jessica patted her on the head, because apparently she saw Jean as a feral kitten they’d found in a barn. “We have room on the bus. How far are you going?”
“To the airport.”
“No problem. You mean Denver?”
Jean shook her head. “The little one in Rapid City.”
“Ohhh.” Jessica wrinkled her nose. “That’s trickier. You should just stay with us until our next stop!”
That was a profoundly bad idea for many reasons, but Jeanwasn’t in a position to be picky. She could always ask them to let her out at a gas station along the highway. “When are you rolling out?”
Please say tonight,she silently prayed, crossing her fingers behind her back.
