This mansion.
Something tells me if I look around, I’ll find two pools and thirteen pet fish.
“It’s the game,” I exclaim to the wildly lifelike Penn vision in front of me. “That’s what this is. That’s why you’re here. I’m dreaming about the MASH game.”
Penn all but slams his mug on the counter. “Jesus Christ, Ruby. Not this again.”
He steps closer. His eyes bounce between mine as he puts two fingers to my chin, shifting it from side to side while he examinesmy face. The sensation of his warm skin touching mine is remarkably lifelike.
My pulse quickens. I whack his arm away.
“How much did you drink last night, birthday girl? Are you still drunk?” Penn asks. “Are you ill?”
I nod. “In many ways, yes, I assume so.”
I look around, tickled by my brain’s creativity, and it hits me: I can do anything here. Say anything. It doesn’t matter. I’m just swimming around in whatever freaky brain space brought that old MASH game to life—some hazy realm fueled by tequila and who knows what else.
I unwrap the itchy scarf from around my neck and toss it aside.
Penn’s gaze drops. He goes scarlet.
I grin. It’s fun messing with Dream Penn.
I have no reason to care what he thinks of me here. I don’t need to feel embarrassed by my lingerie loungewear.
None of this is real.
Once, I dreamt I was crying and woke up with tears running down my cheeks. Maybe this is like that, all my senses functioning while I sleep. Soon I’ll wake up and snap out of this. In the meantime, I can’t let the tall, bewildered hallucination in front of me ruin all the fun.
I pour myself more coffee, filling my mug to the brim. Usually, I’m careful about how much caffeine I consume, jittery after one serving, but I can chug the entire pot if I want to.
Actually, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
Better seize the daydream, as they say.
I carry the coffeepot over to the island and settle down againin front of my beloved frosted animal crackers. Penn approaches slowly, eyeing me skeptically from across the island.
“So. Tell me,” I say between bites. “What’s happening around here?”
“You mean other than your rather alarming breakdown?”
I smile and shovel in another handful of crackers. I can’t believe I stopped eating these. They pair perfectly with coffee, the taste almost orgasmic.
I must have let out a fitting sound, because Penn reddens again.
“What does Bridget do?” I ask. “And where’s Ryan?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know where he is, but I’m calling him.” He pulls a cell phone from his back pocket and presses it to his ear, pacing as he adds, “This isn’t funny anymore. You’ve officially freaked me the hell out.”
“I’m fine,” I insist. “Just let me enjoy this, okay?”
Penn stops and stares at his phone. “No answer. I—” He cuts himself off, mystified while he watches me drink straight out of the coffeepot. It’s harder than I anticipated. Hot coffee dribbles down my chin and into my cleavage.
“Shoot,” I grumble, setting the pot back down. If only I were still wearing my scarf. Dabbing at my chest, I assure Penn, “I haven’t been possessed. Really.”
“Jury’s still out,” he says, unconvinced. “I have to stop by Curly’s, but I can’t leave you alone like this.” Penn moves to the pantry and returns with pretzels. “You need to eat something that isn’t fifty percent sprinkles. And drink some water. Where’s your phone?”
“Great question.”
