I'm so confused.
The raging headache and lingering need to puke doesn't help. I know Angie and Sergei are only looking out for me, but Henderson doesn't deserve this abuse. I'm almost positive he was a perfect gentleman. Part of me also wants to get defensive that I can sleep with whomever I want to, but based on my track record, Angie and Sergei are being the friends I need them to be.
I also want to eat my Egg McMuffin, so I stand up and march out to the living room, brushing past an irate Angie and Sergei and an uncomfortable-looking Henderson.
Seriously, he looks like he might be the one to throw up.
They trail out after me. I look back over my shoulder and don’t miss the exchange of wary glances, although they are mostly training their disappointment on me. "What? I need some food."
Henderson clears his throat. "Uh, Tabitha, I don't know how to say this, but, um, I believe Tawny Shane did not get clean and sober."
"Did not?" Angie zeroes in on Henderson.
He looks down at his hands. "Um, no. She was not able to kick drugs. I’m sure it's … ah … on the internet that she—"
"Tawny is trending? I've got to see what she did now. Angie, look it up." I talk with a mouth full, dropping a bite of egg out of my mouth. Super attractive.
Angie whips out her phone and begins scrolling. I don't even know where my phone is. Henderson's mouth opens and closes as he looks from me to Angie and back again.
"Oh my God. Oh my God. OH MY GOD. Tabitha!" Angie's on her feet, showing the phone to Sergei. Why is Angie yelling? It can't be good. Why did I ask her to look? I should know that curiosity killed the cat.
"What are you carrying on about over there?" I roll my eyes. Angie can be so dramatic sometimes.
"Go get your phone and see. I can't. I …" Angie trails off.
I sigh, hauling myself up. My head hurts and I'm hungry and hung over, but my morbid curiosity about what Tawny's got herself into wins out.
The guest room looks like a bomb went off. I finally find my phone under my crumpled-up dress. I root around some more to find my charger. I plug it into the outlet on the bedside lamp and flop on the bed. I probably shouldn't leave Henderson out there with Angie and Sergei, but frankly I don't feel well enough to stay upright. Being hungover in your thirties sucks. I wish he'd come in here and lie down with me. After my phone powers up, I holler, "What site?"
Angie hollers back, "TMZ. No, E! Actually, go to Twitter."
Driven by a curiosity to find out why Tawny Shane is in the news and what horrible misstep she's made now, I select the Twitter icon.
But it's not Tawny that's trending. It's me.
Videos from the bar and karaoke, and even a picture of me giving that homeless guy money.
I'm all over Twitter.
"I'm trending!" Hangover temporarily pushed aside, I jump off the bed and run back out to the living area. Henderson is standing by the door, looking like he'd rather have a testicle removed than be here for one more second. "Henderson, I'm trending on Twitter! I haven't trended since I nursed Paisley onReally Late Night with Dirk Diamond. I didn't even have to whip out a boob this time!"
His head tilts slightly. "You've been onReally Late Night with Dirk Diamond?" If I'm not mistaken, his color lightens about ten shades, and he looks a little queasy. Maybe he should eat his Egg McMuffin.
"Yeah, it was right before our big reunion concert. What was that, Ang? Like three years ago? Almost four. Yeah, because Paisley was a newborn. I sang last night. I really missed it. You know, we should do another concert. The Sassy Cats are probably due for a reunion."
He staggers back a step, sagging into the door frame. "Yeah, so I … um … I should go."
"Why?" I take a step toward him. "I mean, I know they're being jerks, but their bark is worse than their bite. Trust me. They'll be fine. Eventually. Don't go."
I want Henderson to stay longer. I liked getting to know him and him getting to know me, without all the Sassy Cats stuff in the way. Plus, I have to make it up to him for getting so drunk last night. Not to mention, I need to make huge amends for Angie and Sergei's behavior. Seriously, where do they get off?
He looks from me to Angie, and then back to me again. "Look, I'm a little out of my league here. I was supposed to meet up with a washed-up former pop star to try to convince her to do a show this summer at my theatre in Upstate. I saw you last night; you're the furthest thing from washed-up that there could be. Obviously, we were both in the wrong place at the wrong time."
I take another step toward him, and then another, until I'm right in front of him. I reach out and tug his hands out of his jeans pockets. "But I thought we had a good time last night. I mean, what I can remember was fun."
His eyes crinkle slightly. "And what do you remember, exactly?"
Maybe because it's obvious he really didn't know who I was while we were on our date, so he may have been pure in his intentions. Maybe it's because I'm not used to being turned down. Maybe it's just because he's really cute. Whatever the reason, I don't want him to go.
