After staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, nightmares took over. Of course, that was nothing new. I’d experienced them almost nightly since childhood. I thought I’d grown up hard and that I was tough. Was I tough though? Now I questioned everything that I once thought to be true.
Chapter 4
The Barbie Girl ringtone blasting in my ear woke me the next morning. After fumbling for my phone, I wrapped my hand around it and stuck it up to my face. What time was it? I opened one eye and looked at the clock on the nightstand. Ten a.m.
I checked the screen. It was her. I glanced over and saw that I was alone in the bed. Thank god Patrick was already gone. Exhaustion and all the wine must have kept me from hearing him leave.
I contemplated not answering the call, but the outcome from that would be worse than the actual conversation. She’d just come to my house if I didn’t pick up. I’d rather have an appointment with my gynecologist and a colonoscopy on the same day than look at Britney’s Botox-injected face right now. Was it too early for a glass of wine? Reluctantly, I touched the screen to accept the call.
“What the hell took you so long?” she asked in her typical valley girl pitch. “Are you still sleeping? God. You should really get up earlier and do yoga or something.”
My life was like that movie Groundhog Day. I woke up and repeated the same thing over and over again.
“Are you ready? We’re going shopping,” she said in a sing-song voice.
Shopping? Really? That was a shocker. I remained silent.
“Are you there?” Britney asked in an irritated voice.
I sighed. “Yeah, I’m here. I’ll meet you.”
“Great, I’ll see you soon. Byeeee.” The call ended.
I remained in bed, staring at the ceiling. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay there since I knew Britney would just call back and ask why I was late. Getting dressed was a chore. I put little effort into it this morning, although it wasn’t as if my outfit choice would be any different from the others. Yoga pants and a Gucci T-shirt, of course.
I didn’t bother going to the kitchen for any type of breakfast. I wasn’t in the mood. Starbucks would have to do. Maybe I would eat lunch. Every morning I wondered what it would be like to have a husband that I actually said goodbye to before he left for work. It was almost as if I lived here alone or only had a roommate who popped in for sex visits. Money and fancy objects were all I had to keep me company. I needed to get a life. Why put any effort into my marriage? It seemed hopeless.
After grabbing my Birkin bag and keys, I stepped out of the house and toward the Mercedes. Opening the garage door, I squinted as golden sunshine shimmered against the backdrop of the blindingly blue sky. Another gorgeous day in what should be my perfect life. Except it was far from perfect. Sure, it looked ideal on the outside, but deep-down secrets and demons lurked. Always hidden under the surface, hell-spawned horror leapt from the flames always eager to possess me.
Britney text more instructions. Instead of driving to Whitney or Sophie’s house first, we’d meet at Starbucks. That was fine with me, although it wasn’t as if I had any say-so in the matter. Maybe I after shopping I could just walk back to the Starbucks and not spend time in the car with them. I’d see them in only public places. I’d make up some kind of excuse… anything not to be alone with them. Not to mention Britney’s driving sucked. Who would she run over next?
The nagging voice in the back of my mind wouldn’t shut up. The voice told me to go to the police and explain what happened. Just tell the truth. Could I really do that? They’d send me to prison for my part.
As soon I pulled my Mercedes into to the Starbucks’ parking lot I spotted the Bentley. That poor man’s temporary tomb. Now every time I saw the car, I’d think about what happened. Britney, Sophie, and Whitney were getting out of the car, acting as if this was like all the other days. Apparently, they’d driven together. Were they talking about me during the ride? They were probably voicing their disdain for the way that I’d acted, as if I’d been the one in the wrong.
After debating a couple minutes on whether I should go through with this, I climbed out from behind the wheel and crossed the parking lot. Every step forward seemed like a mile. It was probably all in my head, but I felt as if everyone watched me. Paranoia had set in.
When I entered the coffee shop, I scanned the space for them. They’d already secured a table in the corner of the room. The lights seemed brighter today, and the grinding of the coffee machine sounded louder than usual. Forcing myself to walk, I stopped in front of the counter to place my order. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched them. Whitney leaned over and whispered in Britney’s ear. All eyes were on me. The ice-cold stares made way into forced smiles. Their behavior sent a shiver down my spine.
“May I get your order?” the barista asked, snapping me to attention.
“Iced vendi sugar-free vanilla latte nonfat for Alexsis,” I mumbled.
The barista looked at me oddly when I didn’t offer a snippy comment about my name or her ability to make my order. At least the evil ones weren’t watching me now.
After grabbing my cup, I sucked it up and shuffled toward their table. As I neared, Britney, Sophie, and Whitney’s attention turned to me. They eyeballed me up and down. When I reached the table, I pulled out a chair, but they jumped up before I even sat down.
“Well, since you’re late we have to go. Hurry up. We’re going to Neiman’s,” Britney said as she brushed past me.
As they walked by Whitney and Sophie watched me. A death stare.
“Alexi,” the barista called out.
I didn’t have the energy to correct her. Honestly, I didn’t give a rat’s ass what she called me. My problems were much deeper than an incorrect name. I snatched the cup from the barista’s hand and hurried out the door behind my bat-shit crazy besties.
“Maybe we can just walk to Neiman’s from here,” I said as I trailed behind them. “It’s not far.”
Britney stopped and spun around. How she maneuvered like that in wedge heels was beyond me. Her icy blue eyes focused on me. “Then we’d have to carry the shopping bags back.”
I had no argument to hit back with, so I had to get in the car. The nerve Britney had to even attempt driving again after what she’d done astonished me. How many other dead men had she had in her trunk?
After everything that had happened, Britney still drove like a madwoman as we made our way to the store. I wore my seatbelt which helped me, but the truth threat came to the unsuspecting people out and about on the sidewalks.
At least she didn’t hit anyone this time. Nevertheless, her driving was just as bad today as it had been yesterday. Nothing had changed. People were fortunate enough to stay out of her path. After handing the valet the keys, they marched toward the store, giggling and laughing. I reluctantly followed. I’d thought about running in the opposite direction, but Britney would track me down.
Bright lights, air conditioning, and faint music intended to help customers shop greeted us. Britney, Whitney, and Sophie sashayed into the store as if the red carpet should have been rolled out, paparazzi should have bombarded them, and fans should have shoved papers into their faces begging for autographs. The trio acted like the mere fact that they had stepped foot into the place should have set everyone into a frenzy. No one noticed us. I liked it that way.