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She opens the door. “I was just wondering if you wanted another glass of warm…”
She stops as she sees the glass in my hand.
“Oh.”
“I don’t need another glass of milk, thank you,” I tell her before taking a sip. “But I think I need someone to watch TV with.”
I pat the pillow beside me.
Giselle smiles and enters the room. She sits down.
“So what are we watching?” she asks.
“Um… I don’t know.” I shrug.
She laughs.
I pick up the remote. “Let’s find something nice.”
As I flip through the channels, I rest my head on Giselle’s shoulder, grateful for her presence. With my friend right by my side, I know I’ll be alright.
~
I’m reminded that I have another friend when Fiona visits me a few days later. This time, she’s wearing a sleek black and white dress. A gold necklace hangs from around her neck and black lace gloves adorn her hands.
“My dear Leah.” She gives me a warm hug and touches my cheek. “How have you been?”
“Good,” I answer.
She sits on the couch and pulls me down beside her. “Sure? I’ve heard about what you had to go through.”
For a moment, I stiffen. She’s not talking about what Gavin did to me, is she? Did Gavin tell her? Did someone else? He’s not in trouble, is he?
“That Goldberg,” Fiona says with a sigh. “What was that old man thinking?”
Goldberg? Oh, she’s talking about the attempted abduction.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I wasn’t given too many details, but Ga- Mr. Scotsfeld assured me it won’t happen again.”
“It won’t,” Fiona tells me. “That Goldberg won’t cause anyone in the Club anymore trouble. In fact, I’m sure he’s left the country. There’s nothing left for him here.”
I don’t answer. I don’t really know anything about him apart from the fact that he tried to kidnap me, and I still don’t even know the reason for that, so I have nothing to say.
Maybe I can ask Fiona?
“Would you know why he tried to kidnap me?” I ask her.
She touches my knee. “Darling, of course I know, but if Gavin didn’t want to tell you, maybe I shouldn’t.”
I nod.
“Then again, maybe you deserve to know. You were the one who was almost kidnapped, after all.”
I give her a hopeful look. “It would help put my mind at ease.”
Fiona draws a deep breath. “Goldberg wanted you. He said you looked like his late wife. He wanted to get you for his prize, but you ended up with Gavin.”
I touch my chin. “I see.”
Now I understand. Goldberg wanted me at the auction, but he didn’t get me so he tried to get me some other way. Talk about a sore loser, a cheat. A dishonorable man. Still, the fact that he wanted me because I look like his wife makes him a little less despicable in my book.
Fiona takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’m glad he didn’t succeed. Gavin would have killed him. Still, it must have been frightening for you. But you seem fine.”
I nod and give her a slight smile. “I am fine.”
Just then, Giselle walks into the living room with a tray of drinks- two glasses of water, a cup of coffee, and a glass mug nearly filled to the brim with strawberry milkshake. She offers it to Fiona.
“Would you like something to drink, ma’am?”
She eyes the tray, then grabs the glass of water. “I’ll just have water.”
I take the shake and give Giselle a grateful smile. She nods and leaves.
“Something tells me you’ve been indulging yourself in milkshakes lately,” Fiona says.
I shrug. “Milkshakes. Ice cream. Fried fish. Pork dumplings. Sticky rice balls. Buffalo wings.”
Fiona chuckles. “Careful. You don’t want to end up gaining too much weight.”
“I know,” I answer. “Dr. Taylor told me the same thing this morning.”
As Fiona brings her glass of water to her lips, I take the straw of my drink between mine and take a sip. She sets her glass down first and frowns when she sees the lipstick stain on the rim.
“There goes my lipstick,” she says with a sigh. “And I just applied a fresh layer while I was in the elevator, too.”
She grabs her purse from the armchair.
“You don’t mind if I reapply it, do you?”
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
I take a few more sips of my drink as Fiona goes about her task. Her love of lipstick reminds me of Mandy, though she applies it in a more skillful, sophisticated way. And she’s not using a mirror, either.
“There.” She smacks her lips when she’s done. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries.” I set my glass down and wipe my own lips with the back of my hand. “Your lipstick is nice.”
“This?” She glances at the stick in her hand. “It’s part of my new collection. This shade- Marvelouz Mauve- is my current favorite. Maybe I’ll bring you a stick next time.”
