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“I’m good. I’m not going to puke.”
“Right. Well, hold that thought. You might change your mind after I force a few glasses of sober fuel down your throat.”
“Sober fuel?”
Jos was back in a minute with a crystal glass, a tall, heavy thing, filled to the brim with cold water. Eden didn’t feel like she could drink another drop of anything. Her insides were still an ocean, but she took the glass and sipped at it anyway.
“All of that. Please.” Jos paced around the bathroom while Eden drank.
It occurred to Eden, after she was done with the first glass and handed it back, only to receive a refill, which she groaned at, that Jos was worried. Did she feel responsible for this? Was she scared that Eden had alcohol poisoning? Did she think she’d pass out or fall asleep and choke in her sleep?
After she was done with the second glass, she felt like she was going to burst, but she did feel far more sober. The room stopped spinning. Thoughts found purchase in her brain. Her hands shrunk down to having the normal amount.
“I don’t have to work until tomorrow evening,” Jos said. “I’m going to go to the kitchen and make you something to eat. Some toast or something. If you’re okay now, I’d like you to have a cold shower.”
“A shower? And why cold? Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly bossy?”
Jos stared her down, hands on her hips, but then her lips did the impossible and lifted at the corners. “Actually, I think most people are too scared to. The shower doesn’t need to be frigid, but the cold water will probably help sober you up some more. A few more glasses of water and you should be in much better shape before I let you go to bed.”
“My bladder can’t take a few more glasses of water.”
Jos rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to supervise you anymore. I think you’re past needing that, so feel free to use the facilities.” She pointed at the toilet. “That there is a great remedy for bladder woes.” Eden realized there was a very dry sense of humor lurking in Jos’ serious depths. She was all business on the outside, but underneath that? What was underneath that? She shouldn’t want to know, but she did.
Maybe it was the journalist in her, always itching to get at the truth.
She wasn’t going to get any more out of Jos until she was showered, apparently. Jos was indeed bossy, and she expected Eden to obey. Dunking her head in cold water wasn’t going to cut it. Jos was also one of those people who would probably sniff at a kid’s toothbrush to see if they’d actually brushed their teeth with it or just wet it and said they had.
Eden pulled herself off the floor. She still felt a little wobbly, but after a minute of getting upright again, it passed. She did use the facilities, then walked towards the fancy shower. It was like what her parents had at their house in just about all their many bathrooms. She knew how to operate the dials on the wall and soon had a stream of lukewarm water flowing from the rain head overtop. Eden stripped off her clothes and got in, shivering and unable to bring herself to make it any colder.
It turned out that Jos was right about that too. The water revived Eden, refreshing her, chasing away the lingering effects of the whisky. She toweled off with a huge fluffy tow
el, then used the facilities again. The more she peed, the better she felt. Maybe Jos knew what she was doing with her booze cure.
Eden was about to get dressed in her clothes when a soft knock sounded at the door. “I’m putting a set of pajamas out here. They should fit you.”
She held her breath, her eyes stinging for some reason. Jos wasn’t trying to be kind. She just probably didn’t want Eden’s dirty clothes slipping between her sheets. That was likely all that it was.
She padded over to the door, shivering as the air hit her cold skin and dripping hair. She opened the door a crack and pulled in the bundle that was there.
That bundle turned out to be the world’s softest pajamas. There was a cami top in lilac, a color that couldn’t possibly belong to Jos. The bottoms were fuzzy, with little clouds all over the pale purple fabric.
Eden towelled off her long hair, twisted it into a knot at the base of her neck so it wouldn’t drip all over the place with a thin elastic she always kept around her wrist, then studied herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were a little bloodshot and her cheeks were more flushed than normal.
She hung up her towel and collected her clothes, folding them and carrying them under her arm. It wasn’t hard to locate the kitchen. It was just down the long hallway.
Just like everything else, it was done in blinding whites. The cabinets were modern and glossy, the appliances a matte steel. The fridge was expansive, pearly white backsplash set in around the gas stove. The countertops were probably quartz, with a white marble pattern shot through with gray.
Jos stood at the center of it all, the only splash of color.
Eden had been so uncomfortable when she’d walked into the pub, so filled with nervous energy that she’d barely noticed what Jos was wearing, then she’d been hidden by the table. She’d been way too drunk after that to take note.
Now, though?
Jos Frank had just made toast in knee high boots. Her shapely legs were showcased in them, and she was rocking the stiletto heels.
Holy shit, she dragged me through city blocks in those, and basically carried me into the freaking house in them.
The dress hugged her curves, and she had plenty of them. Jos had the perfect body. She probably spent hours with a personal trainer every single day and it showed. She was also naturally endowed with an impressive curves up top . Her breasts were neatly confined in the tight fitting, short little black dress, and hidden tastefully by the blazer, but not altogether disguised. Eden had trouble tugging her gaze up. Or down. Or away. She’d shed the wig and her blond hair looked like it had been finger combed out. Still, there were no strands out of place.
