Page 3 of Irreversible

I jolt in place when my cell phone vibrates against my thigh, attached by a lacy garter. Fetching it quickly, I peer down at the familiar name of my best friend as a smile crests.

Allison

It’s been five minutes since I’ve gotten an update. I’m dying over here.

Me

You’re in Belize. I’m sure you’re enduring.

Allison

Erik is drunk on Malibu and singing that coconut song in a British accent like Zazu in The Lion King. OVER AND OVER.

I giggle and cringe simultaneously, the song immediately stuck in my head.

Me

Yikes.

Allison

I’m breaking up with him as soon as we land back in LA.

Me

Seriously? I thought it was…well, serious.

Allison

It was serious until he forgot my name while introducing me to some babe in an itty-bitty bikini. Slimeball. Erik is just another placeholder. Tell your husband to find me a husband because he’s a fantastic husband and I trust his husband endorsements.

Me

What an ass! We’ll commiserate over sangria when you get back. In the meantime, get a nice tan, plus an extra one for me since I’m incapable.

Allison

Will do. Is the launch going amazing? How famous are you at this exact moment? Did I just become famous by association?

Me

LOL. I’m not famous, but it’s going well.

Allison

Make those connections, Ev. You’re a superstar.

Me

You make me sound more important than I am. I just stand around, looking mildly pissed off and constipated, while people take my picture.

Allison

You’re right. Maintaining experimental cultures of aphids and cabbage stem flea beetles would have been way cooler than fame and fortune.

Me

Thanks for that dose of stone-cold regret.

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