Lee checked her makeup again in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and walked up the stone steps to the gorgeous bungalow. Shirley’s client, Christy, was throwing a party for her boyfriend’s birthday. Hopefully she’d slip right in as though she belonged. Fake it until you are it, Shirley always said.
Lee snorted as she entered the house and battled her thoughts. Shirley had literally taken that statement to a whole new level. She’d faked living Lee’s life, when what she really needed to focus on was staying clean, standing on her own two feet, and getting away from her father. Why didn’t she see that?
Bodies pressed into all corners of the house. Music blared, red Solo cups clenched in almost every fist. Lee hunted for any familiar faces but saw only strangers. She felt the customary urge to turn and run, but she squared her shoulders and went to get herself a drink. She’d never understood the draw of alcohol, but in the last twenty-four hours, it had taken the edge off. She felt more relaxed. She felt like she could do anything.
She shot Shirley a text and waited for her reply. What would Shirley do in this situation? Before Harold, she’d seek out the hottest guy in the room and have sex with him. Lee scoped out the men, spotting a few cute ones, but no one she’d want to take her clothes off for.
She got another drink. She’d already downed an entire bottle of wine earlier, alone in her room, while she listened to her dad and Shirley whisper through the thin walls. Probably talking about her, figuring out what to do. She couldn’t think about them. The noises. The intimacy. The reality of what they were doing with each other. This entire train wreck had pushed her and Shirley’s relationship into dangerous territory, and she wasn’t sure they’d ever be able to recover. She poured herself a shot of something. She tossed it back, that lighter fluid sting warming her throat.
She checked her phone again. Sorry. Not coming. Have fun.
Lee resisted the urge to chuck her phone out the window. Instead, she fired off a text. Get here NOW. You owe me. We have to talk.
The ellipsis blinked at her, then disappeared. Lee gritted her teeth and wondered if she should just go home. It was too loud, and there were too many distractions for her to even think clearly. Instead, she walked to the middle of the living room, where a few girls danced by the couch, giggling and rosy-cheeked.
Lee began to tilt her hips left and right to the music. She locked eyes with some guy on the couch and let the alcohol numb her mind as her body sprang to life. She lifted her hands, ran them through her hair, and moved her body in ways she never had in public, soaking in the approving looks some of the men shot her way.
She danced until she was sweaty and drunk. She lurched back to the kitchen and realized she could barely keep her balance. She bumped into someone’s back, turned, and apologized.
A hand on her shoulder forced her to turn, and she struggled to make her eyes focus.
“Lee?”
It was Shirley. She wore an amazing short black dress and jean jacket. How had she gotten here so fast? Shirley leaned in to smell her breath, and her intoxicating perfume made Lee’s eyes water. “Are you drunk?”
Lee’s eyes felt heavier than she wanted, and bile rose from all the dancing. “So?”
“So?” Shirley’s mouth hung open. “Why in the world are you drunk? You don’t drink.”
“I do now.” Lee suppressed the guilt. Shirley had been sober for two years and now she was the drunk friend.
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” she shouted. “You’re sleeping with my father!”
Shirley looked pained and glanced around, embarrassed. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know how it happened.”
“Save it. You don’t love him. You don’t even care about my father. You could have any guy, and instead you choose him? Do you actually hate me that much or something?” She squinted at her. “Or is it daddy issues?”
Shirley gripped both elbows to keep her stationary. “Lee, you’re my best friend. Don’t be ridiculous.”
She jerked free. “That man will eat you alive. He’ll do the same thing he did to my mother.”
Shirley stepped back. “That’s not true.”
Lee snorted. “Shirley, he’s been utterly useless since my mother died. I’ve done everything to help him. All he does is drink and take up space.” The moment she said it, she wished she could take it back. She didn’t respect her father, but she still loved him.
“Look.” Shirley gripped her forehead and dropped her hand. “I don’t know what you want me to do. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to prove to me that my father is no different than any other guy.”
Something fluttered across Shirley’s face. “What does that mean?”
“It means I want you to sleep with someone else. Here. Tonight. At this party. Go find someone. Show me that what’s happening between you and my father is nothing more than some sick joke.”
Shirley rolled her eyes. “Let me take you home.”
“You go home. I’m having fun.” Lee headed for the bathroom. Throngs of people lined the hallway, so she climbed the stairs, careful to place one foot in front of the other. The wood of the staircase swirled, and the banister felt like a cool snake beneath her palm. She teetered on the top stair and gasped, afraid that she might tumble back and crash to her death in a pile of drunken bones. Not tonight.
Instead, she’d splash some water on her face, drink a few glasses of water, and head home. The talk with Shirley could wait. The noise of the party lessened on the landing. She stalled in the carpeted hallway, trying a few doors to try and locate a bathroom. Hall closet. Laundry. Office. There was a door at the back of the hallway to the left. She opened it and walked into a bedroom. It was dark, but there was light from a separate door—presumably the bathroom.
She thought of what awaited her tomorrow, a slew of clients and their stories of happy weekends or extraordinary adventures. She had no fun stories to tell, no crazy adventures. She couldn’t even get properly drunk for the first time without messing it up. She twisted the knob and let herself into the bathroom. She splashed water on her face, wiped her hands, and took a few deep breaths. She flipped off the light as total blackness pushed in. Her reflexes slowed, and her world began to spin. The mixture of beverages rose and swirled. The back of her throat burned. She needed to get home.
She opened the door and jumped. The outline of someone hulked in the doorway. The person stepped forward, and before she knew what was happening, hands closed in on her as she was forced back into the bathroom.