Page 40 of Get Lost

“Oh, that’s nothing. Let me worry about that detail.”

Nessa huffed, ticking another finger off. “And, um, two…”

“You already said two.”

Nessa sighed. “Okay, three…”

The silence dragged on, Kelsey watching expectantly and Nessa frowning. As she waited for Nessa’s inevitable acceptance, Kelsey’s smile grew. Nessa shook her head, even as an acquiescing smile twitched on her lips. Kelsey jumped up and squealed. She turned around and pulled Nessa off the bed and into her arms, jumping up and down with her still-reluctant best friend. “Thank you! Thank you! You’re the best!” She released Nessa and grabbed her phone, then sent a quick text to Reagan, praying she’d agree to do a guest spot at The Peacock.

“Kelsey.”

She typed furiously fast, trying to get everything ironed out so she could cross this crisis off the list and address any that might follow.

“Kelsey.”

Finally looking up, she said, “What?”

“Are we really going to Barbados?” Nessa screeched.

They both squealed and jumped up and down, then Nessa froze, her eyes wide. “Oh my God, I have so much to do.”

Lucky popped his head in, wearing his stupid Jack Sparrow hat from some Halloween long past. “Argh, did I hear you girls say we’re going to the Caribbean?”

Kelsey spent the remainder of the afternoon on her phone, finalizing the plane ticket name switch and helping Lucky get an additional ticket, discounted with some of her old miles. She spoke with Renee, the bride, who okayed Lucky to stay in the villa with Kelsey and Nessa, confirmed a few last-minute details, and now she pulled the Kelsey’s Kreations party wagon into a parking spot at her local post office. She hadn’t checked her post office box in a few weeks. Not that she received much mail here, but it was always good to check, just in case she’d somehow manifested a check for a million dollars.

Hey, it could happen.

She made her way inside and stepped over to her row of boxes, stopping in front of box number four-seventeen, then slid her key into the lock. When she opened the little gold door, a stack of mail three inches thick awaited her.

Kelsey groaned as she retrieved the pile and flipped through a few things, then paused as a peach piece of paper fluttered to the floor. She bent and picked it up, raising her eyebrows as she read the information that indicated that there was a package waiting for her at the office’s front desk.

She closed and locked her mailbox, then carried her stack of—probably—junk mail to the main lobby area. There was no line, so she stepped up to the front and handed the postman her peach slip. The man looked it over, then nodded and disappeared into the back.

He returned a few moments later with a giant cardboard box in his arms.“Your package is too big for the box.”

“That’s what she said.” Kelsey grinned.

The postman did not.

Getting serious, she said, “Okay, but that can’t be for me. I don’t get packages here, just mail. There must be some mistake.”

“Kelsey Sutton?” he asked as he placed the giant box on the counter.

“Yes, but…”

He looked at the paper, then at the address on the package. “P.O. box four-seventeen?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Guess this is yours.”He opened his eyes widely, like she might be a moron, then pushed it toward her.

She pushed it back. “All of my work packages go to my apartment.”

He shrugged. “Would you like to return it to the sender?”

“No? I mean… I don’t know.”

He watched her, waiting.

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