Page 96 of No Greater Oblivion

“Oh my God, I’m gonna kill myself,” she says in between coughs. “Bitch, whatever it is, suck it up. Are you crazy?”

“Alyssa.”

“Ohhhh my Goddd,” she groans as she scrolls through photos. Then turns the phone around and points to a photo of us taken at his uncle’s birthday party back in April. “Does he actually look like that in person?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you complaining. Are you on crack? Is that what it is?” she asks, eyes narrowed. “Have you gotten caught up in the Barcelona party scene and all the cava and cocaine is frying your brain? Have you lost your mind?”

I manage a sigh. “Yes I know, he’s very pretty.”

“Does he have a brother?”

I chuckle. “Actually, he does. But Diego isn’t really your type. He’s too emotionally available.”

“Well, shit,” Lyss says. “Guess I’m out of luck then.”

“Look, I know what I’m about to tell you is crazy so I need you to brace yourself. Okay?”

“Does this have to do with your boyfriend being really rich and really hot and for some reason, you still want to leave him?” She quirks a brow. “Because if I had a millionaire boyfriend who made sure I had a bodyguard to protect me, I’d be the happiest, most insufferable woman on planet earth.”

“He’s not a millionaire,” I tell her. “And when you find out what he’s worth you’re going to shit your pants. So drink your cava and pay attention. I’ll have to start from the beginning.”

Lyss stares blankly into the plaza while the waiter takes away three empty bottles and replaces them with a new one. I pour each of us a glass but Lyss doesn’t move. By now we’ve been here most of the afternoon and she hasn’t uttered a word in the last half hour. If this is how she’s reacting after receiving a very sanitized version of the last year and a half, I can only imagine what would’ve happened if I’d told her the whole truth. Most likely we’d be at the American Embassy while Lyss demands to see the FBI and a psychiatrist, one to lock up my boyfriend and the other to treat me for Stockholm Syndrome.

After a few moments of silence, she opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Then downs her glass in a single gulp before taking mine.

“Oh my God…” she whispers.

“Don’t freak out!” I say. “You promised not to freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out, are you freaking out? Who said I was freaking out?” She keeps pouring until the cava spills over the rim of her glass. “This is me not freaking out.”

“Lyss.” I catch the cava bottle in time before she drowns her cup and the rest of the table. “Oh my God…you’re totally freaking out.”

“Of course I’m freaking out!” She exclaims suddenly, drawing the attention of nearby patrons. I sink back in my seat and try to act calm—no one pays attention to a bunch of drunk American tourists, right?—and Lyss finishes half her glass in several gulps. “You are out of your fucking mind, Rosario.”

“You need to calm down!” I whisper frantically. “People are looking.”

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Her eyes dart in both directions as if searching for something. “You just told me your super rich boyfriend has a family business and I have to calm down?”

“It’s just a family business, Lyss! Like how the Carusos owned a whole bunch of car dealerships and that’s why their daughter Enza had a Louis Vuitton bag at fourteen!”

“The Carusos also got arrested for tax evasion and had their mansion in Howard Beach repossessed by the bank,” Lyss retorts. “Which is why Enza had to go to public school halfway through junior year because her tuition checks weren’t clearing!”

“Okay, how else can I explain this to you! He’s rich and the money comes from a big family company!”

“Tell the truth, is he in the mob? Do they even have a mob in Spain?” Lyss wanders aloud, as if forgetting I’m sitting across from her. “You said it’s a shipping company…” She gasps. “Oh my God, do they smuggle blood diamonds from Africa⁠—”

I practically leap over the table and cover her mouth with my hand. “Alyssa Marie, shut up.”

She pushes my hand away. “Let me have my freak out, Dahlia! I’m allowed to freak out. I just found out my best friend has been shacking up with some billion-dollar criminal!”

“I know this may seem like something really absurd to say but…he’s actually very nice.”

Lyss studies me for a long moment. Then snatches her pocketbook off the table and whacks me across the head with it.

“Ow!”