Page 69 of The Kat Bunglar

Khatira tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “I don’t know. To either murder him or boink him. Whatever works at the time.”

Laila’s cheeks flushed bright red. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to Mexico to chase after some man.”

“Some man?” Khatira echoed, throwing her hands up. “Laila, he took a bullet for us, and he said he loved you.”

Laila froze, her gaze meeting Khatira’s with such raw vulnerability that it took Khatira by surprise. “You heard that too?”

Khatira nodded, the lie slipping out smoothly. “Of course I did! Which is why you have to go! There are too many unanswered questions. Is there a wife? A widow? A hot sister-in-law?” Khatira leaned forward suddenly, her fingers steepling together. “Wait—Is he rich? Does he own any diamond mines?”

Laila shot her a look. “You’re not going to Mexico. And you clearly need therapy regarding this obsession you have with wealth.”

Khatira rolled her eyes. “It’s called capitalism. We all have the same obsession.”

Laila waved her hands in irritation. “Well, I am not taking advice from a twenty-four-year-old who thinks the solution to a low bank balance is to rob people.”

“Not people. You.” Khatira grinned. “Because you’re special. Besides, I give great advice. Do you know how many young girls message me, saying, ‘I should kill myself. I’m so ugly,’ and I’m like, ‘Don’t do that. You’ll grow into those features.’”

Laila’s mouth opened and closed several times before she could figure out an adequate response. After a long pause, Laila haltingly said, “I don’t know, Khatira. I don’t know if I’m ready to go after him. What if he doesn’t want me there? What if I mess everything up again?”

Khatira tilted her head, her expression softening for the first time. “And what if he needs you more than you think?”

Laila looked at her, and Khatira was surprised by how lost and haunted Laila looked. She had assumed that Laila’s life was perfect. But maybe she was struggling alongside the rest of the human race.

Khatira looked at the clock on the wall behind Laila, her eyes widening at the time. “Laila, I’m so sorry. I have to cut this short.” She stood up and walked toward Laila. “I’m meeting my parents for dinner. But keep me posted if you wanted to do a little girls trip to Mexico. I look amazing in a bikini.”

Laila looked at Khatira in surprise. “Your parents live in Chicago?”

Khatira shook her head. “Sadly, no. Indiana. I try to mention it as little as possible. I’m going to be there for the night and then back to LA to deal with that stupid lawsuit. I think I have some decent representation now. I was able to hire someone and get rid of the state rep.”

Laila snapped her fingers together, jarring them both. “That’s what I meant to yell at you about. Why didn’t you ever text me back?”

“Yell at me?” Khatira asked, aghast. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Poor communication equals poor friendship,” Laila retorted.

Khatira gave a start. “Are we friends?” her voice held a touch of awe.

“We’re notnotfriends,” Laila replied. “Or we will be, if you text me back timely. Anyway, I found a colleague—a former classmate who is in LA and he deals with Product Liability Law. Give him a call when you get back.” Laila handed Khatira his business card.

Khatira looked at Laila with surprise. “You found a lawyer for me?”

“Of course, I can’t have you going to jail over a stupid mistake,” Laila answered.

Khatira abruptly leaned over the large desk and gave Laila a fierce hug. “I’m really sorry I ‘borrowed’ your stuff with no intention of returning it. But... also kind of glad.”

Laila responded with a watery laugh of her own. “You know what? Me too!”

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