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"You may not have gotten Briana Leigh's inheritance money, but you got something much more valuable," Kaitlynn continued in a coddling tone. She looked Ariana up and down and smiled. "You got her life."
Under the table, Ariana's fingernails drew blood. She could feel it creep down her arm, but she didn't flinch. Didn't move. The waitress strolled by and slapped Kaitlynn's bill down on the table. Kaitlynn sighed as she plucked it up and looked it over.
"Of course, you couldn't have done it without the information I fed you those two years, so that means you owe me. I think one million dollars is a small fee to pay for your new life, don't you?"
"What's to stop me from just calling the police with an anonymous tip?" Ariana said through her teeth. "Telling them exactly where the Brenda T.'s most recent escapee is holed up?"
Kaitlynn let out a condescending laugh. "Are you not paying attention? If you do that, the first thing I'm going to tell them is how to find you. All I've done is broken out. You've committed a murder since skipping jail," she whispered, leaning in low over the table. "They find you and you'll fry. No questions asked."
Tears of anger and desperation stung Ariana's eyes. It wasn't her fault, the Briana Leigh thing. It was all Kaitlynn's fault. Kaitlynn's misdirection. Her mind games. Kaitlynn had tricked her into thinking Briana Leigh was a hateful, backstabbing murderer who didn't deserve to live. And now she was holding it over Ariana's head and there was nothing Ariana could do about it. How could her perfect new life already be crumbling around her?
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Kaitlynn rose from the table, placed the bill in front of Ariana, and patted her shoulder. "You'll take care of that, right? I'm sure Briana Leigh's credit card will cover it."
Ariana's whole body trembled from the effort of holding back her fury.
Just grab the fork. Grab the fork and pin her down. It would be so easy. . . .
But of course it wouldn't be. It would be public and messy and basically end her. But it was still satisfying to imagine.
"Oh, and nice try on canceling my phone," Kaitlynn said, pausing on her way out. "Good thing I had Briana Leigh's social security number memorized so I could have it turned back on. Thank that Palmer guy for me, would you? He sounds hot. And if it wasn't for his text, I never would have known where to find you."
Then she slipped a pair of dark sunglasses over her eyes, turned, and shoved the door open with the heel of her hand. Ariana sat, alone and silent, for ten full minutes, waiting for the anger to pass. Waiting for her pulse to return to normal. Waiting for her mind to return to her. Finally, she reached for the bill with a quaking hand, her palm marked with blood. She was a mess. A sweaty, bloody, trembling mess. How had this happened? Yesterday she had been so happy, so full of hope, and now she was sitting in some crappy diner in the middle of nowhere looking like a pathetic waif who'd rolled in off the street in search of charity.
You are apathetic waif, a little voice in her mind taunted her. Look at you. Kaitlynn just took control of your life. There's nothing you can do to stop her.
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Staring at the blood, Ariana felt her meager breakfast making its way up her already sore throat. She jumped up from the table and ran for the bathroom, about to put the capper on what had to be the worst morning of her life. And just like that, she had no control over anything anymore. Not even her own stomach.
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PERSONAL SHOPPER
The moment Ariana stepped inside the airy, sunlit shop, she knew she'd made the right decision calling Lexa. The boutique was called Vintage and the space was two stories tall, with floor-to-ceiling windows for walls. Hundreds of glittering rainbow-colored orb lamps hung from the ceiling like lollipops suspended from sticks. The clothing racks along the walls were stuffed with colorful clothing--everything from pencil skirts to bell-bottom jeans. If it came from another decade, it was represented here, either in true vintage fashion or by current designers doing vintage. As Ariana strolled through, looking for her friends, she heard carefree laughter over the driving disco music and spotted Lexa and Soomie near the back of the store. She felt more relaxed already. She was going to get her bonding time after all.Ariana swung the small, colorful shopping bag that held the box for her new phone as well as a gift for Soomie she had picked up at the wireless store. The new cell phone
Or phones, really--definitely
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qualified as an emergency purchase, which was what she would say to Grandma Covington if the old bat happened to call to discuss the charge. What Grandma C. would never know was that the emergency was a near nervous breakdown on Ariana's part and that this shopping trip was the only possible remedy.
Of course she had no idea how she was going to explain Kaitlynn's hotel charge. Maybe she'd say the card had been stolen. Briana Leigh had been on the careless side. Her grandmother had probably been forced to cancel a number of lost cards over the years. It wouldn't be totally out of the ordinary.
But these explanations were going to wear thin fast. She could only get away with so many strikes before Grandma C. started to get annoyed and cut her off, or at least put more restrictions on her spending. Or even worse, until she got suspicious and dropped in for a visit. Did Kaitlynn really not see the jeopardy involved in all of this? If Ariana got caught, they were both screwed.
But were not thinking about that now, Ariana told herself, running her hand along a gleaming glass counter filled with countless colorful beaded necklaces, sparkling rings, and boho bracelets. If she kept dwelling on Kaitlynn, she was going to drive herself crazy. She needed distraction. And there was nothing more distracting than a little retail therapy. Even if she had to refrain from buying anything for the moment. Another luxury that Kaitlynn had stolen from her along with her pocket money.She grabbed a light blue cashmere cardigan with felt appliqué flowers on the left breast and slipped into it, all the better to hide the
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nasty crescent moon-shaped indents in her arm. Then she plastered on a smile and joined the girls over by the dressing rooms. Reflecting the colorful, retro vibe of the shop, each room had a candy-colored lacquer door, and there were five brightly hued leather benches situated in an arc around them, perfect for impromptu fashion shows. Soomie sat on a hot pink bench, scrolling through her BlackBerry. Lexa hovered behind another, checking out a rack of designer purses.
"Hey, girls!" Ariana greeted them, hoping she sounded at least somewhat cheery.
"Ana! There you are!" Lexa cried, dropping a Michael Kors bag on the floor so that she could hug Ariana.