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“No! No way!” I object, hearing my voice getting louder and louder. “He said that I… That is so fucked up! Do you know where he is? What’s his last name?!”
Without answering, Nance stands up, taking the robe off again. She leans over her open suitcase and plucks out a pair of violet mesh panties and starts stepping into them.
“Nance! Answer me!”
But she doesn’t answer, instead rummaging through her stuff until she finds a matching mesh bra—honestly, what is the point of this flimsy underwear?—and fastening that around her middle too. Then she dresses in slow, deliberate layers, until she’s standing in full ski regalia with a scarf in her hand.
“Nance? You might as well tell me. You know I’m not going to let this go.”
Her shoulders go up and then fall back into place.
“Listen, Lola,” she finally says. “It’s our last chance to hit the slopes. The guys say there’s a trail they want to show us on the north side of the lake. Why don’t we just go get some fresh air? Clear our heads?”
I shake my head, disbelieving. Is she trying to make me mad at her instead? It’s working.
“I don’t want fresh air. I want to find Tucker What’s-his-face and throw a drink at him! Why aren’t you helping me with this?”
Nance pulls a face, gritting her teeth. “Well… I mean…”
I hold my hands out. “What? Just say it!”
“We really need to get back to work, Lola,” she finally sighs. “I mean, we really need to get back to work. We’ve still got a couple of days here… Let’s just enjoy this and then go, okay? Maybe you will even get an idea for a story while you’re out here. Wouldn’t that be great?”
I repeat what she’s saying in my head, trying to piece it out. A story? When did that become urgent? Like her lady love story? Or like Tucker?
“Yeah, I guess that would be great,” I repeat cautiously, rising from my chair. “And you’re saying… skiing?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “Well, Chad is definitely cute,” she winks. “And his d
ad owns the company, so…”
I search her face, sure that the clues are here. I’m sure that I can figure out what it is she’s trying to tell me if I just…
“Wait a second,” I hear myself say. “Nance? Is there something else?”
She wrinkles her nose.
“Seriously, Nance. You have to tell me. If there is something else you have to tell me.”
I see her look all around the room as though trying to find an escape route. Finally she looks me right in the eye. Her eyes are green like mine, but darker. Very dark right now.
“Listen, Lola,” she starts in her very corporate voice. “We all know you’ve been through a tough time, and I really didn’t want to mention this right now. I was really hoping that you would get back to your old self, you know? The Lola we all know and love?”
My stomach feels sick, tight, as though a band is being cinched around my waist.
“Just say it, Nance,” I mumble.
“I’m just saying it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to be nice to Chad,” she singsongs, mincing. I hate it when she pretends to be some kind of fairytale character, some kind of person who hates giving bad news. Because we both know she actually kind of loves it.
“Because he’s the boss’s son,” I repeat sarcastically. “And I might need that.”
She smiles. “Now you’re getting it. And it’s not your fault, okay? It’s just life. It’s just business.”
“Yeah, now I’m getting it, all right,” I say through gritted teeth. “And you knew this? And you didn’t tell me?”
She reaches out, walking toward me until her palms brush my shoulders, then gives me an arm’s length hug. I stand there as she pins my arms to my sides, trying not to yell. This is probably the worst possible hug in the history of hugs.
Her lower lip juts out. “Hey, you had a rough month, right? There was never a time to tell you. I wanted to. Believe me.”
