“Alright, sure, I'll do that,” I said. “Let's just have a good time tonight, and then I can at least forget for a little while about what's happened.”
“Good decision,” she commented with a smile.
I called up Graciela and let her know that I wouldn't be coming to work the next day, and she seemed fine with that. After a few minutes, we arrived at Angie's apartment building. She drove into the parking lot and parked, and then we took an elevator up to the fourth floor, where she lived. Her apartment was nice and cozy, and was tastefully decorated with very modern, minimalist furniture and trappings.
“This is a lovely little place you've got here,” I remarked.
“It is quite nice, huh?” she said. “Glad you like it. Make yourself comfortable; I'll get the wine. You want some snacks too? I've got some crackers, cheese, and hummus, always good with wine.”
“That sounds good,” I said. “I'll just go to the bathroom first.”
“Sure,” she said. “First door on your right.”
I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, she'd put two glasses of red wine and a plate of snacks on the coffee table by the sofa.
“Come, have a seat,” she said. “That's your glass there; I’ve already drunk from the other one.”
I sat down and took my glass of wine.
“Try the crackers and hummus,” she suggested. “That hummus has hardly any fat, by the way, just in case you're worried about your waistline.”
I chuckled. “Good to know, thanks.” I took a cracker and tried it with some hummus. “Mm, this is good!” I announced.
“It is, right?” she replied with a laugh. “Now try some with this Camembert. This cheese is amazing, I'm telling ya.”
I tried some and was instantly impressed. “Wow. That really is good, I have to say.”
“Have a sip of wine; it enhances the flavor.”
I took a sip and found that the wine tasted a little weird. It was good quality, I could tell that much, but something was definitely off about it.
“It's nice,” I said. “But it has a slightly weird aftertaste. Do you find that?”
She took another sip of her wine. “No,” she said. “Maybe it was the cheese. Drink some more to cleanse your palette. Maybe that’ll help.”
“Alright,” I said, and took another sip. It definitely tasted weird, and I said so.
“Well, I don't know, Vivienne. I buy this brand all the time, and it always tastes good to me.”
Then my head started to spin – not just in a mild, “I'm a bit tipsy way,” but in a “I'm going to pass out in seconds” way. I felt a powerful heaviness pressing down on me, and my limbs became weak and jelly like.
“Angie, I... what's happening... I...” I tried to say, but my words came out in an unintelligible slur.
And that is the last thing I remember before I blacked out.
***
I awoke the next day with a pounding headache, feeling as if I'd been hit by a bus, not to mention extremely confused. I looked around and couldn’t figure out where the heck I was or what was going on. When the fog cleared, I studied my surroundings and found that I was in a room I had never seen before. I tried to get up, but that’s when I learned I was bound fast, with my ankles and wrists tied to the bedposts so that I couldn't move.
“A-A-Angie?” I stammered. “Wh-what's going on?”
Then the door opened, and Angie walked in.
“Good afternoon, Vivienne,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“I'm uh... I feel pretty terrible. Afternoon? But...”
“Yeah, you've been out for 16 hours now. I was starting to worry that you were in coma... But thankfully, you're awake now.”