“Yeah, yeah, I do. And you didn’t let me finish. Wes’s friend runs a small theatre out here. Very risqué dances, and they just lost their choreographer. Who better than a real life burlesque Las Vegas show girl to teach these skinny bitches with silicone breasts and plastic-filled lips how to shake their ass implants for top dollar in a Vegas-worthy show? It could be epic!” And hilarious, I thought.
Ginelle didn’t say anything for a long time. Shivers of dread rippled down my spine as I waited.
Finally she spoke, her voice small. “You got me a job as a choreographer? In an LA theatre? Oh my God,” she said, awe coating her words like a warm blanket on a cold day.
“Gin, now I don’t know what’s all involved, but it makes way more than you make now, like tons more, and you wouldn’t have to pay rent. You can stay in the small guesthouse we have off our home. You could live there for as long as you want. Hell, you can live there indefinitely.”
“You and Wes find me my dream job, offer me free room and board indefinitely, and the chance to move to the Sunshine State where my skanky ass best friend lives?”
I thought about what she said. Was there something I was missing? Another olive branch I could extend. A perk I could add to make her take this opportunity and run with it? “Um, yeah, pretty much.”
“Are you fucking snorting crack?”
Inhaling, I rubbed at my forehead. “Not since I last checked.” I attempted a half-hearted giggle.
“Then turn down my bed, biznacho! Your BFF is moving to the land of fruit and nuts! Holy fuck! I’m going to choreograph a burlesque show in LA. OMG, what am I going to wear?” She’d gone from psycho-sad to punch-drunk excited. This was the version of Ginelle I understood, loved, and adored more than any other version of her. Her happiness was transcendent and slithered through the phone to wrap around my worries and melancholy attitude in an intense squeeze of gratitude.
“Really?” I asked, making sure I’d heard her correctly.
“Hells, yeah! I’m fucking packing tonight! There’s so much to do. I have to give notice, pack, figure out my routines, drive to Cali. Do you know what this means to me, Mia?”
I smiled wide and held the phone tight to my ear. “I’m beginning to think I do!” I laughed, her joy spreading all over, giving me the cheesy warm fuzzies that told me I’d made the right decision. For once.
“It means my entire life has just changed for the better! And I have you and your Malibu Ken to thank for it. Put him on the line! I want to give him some virtual love,” she said ecstatically.
Shaking my head, I rested back down on the bed and hugged myself. “Can’t. He’s talking to Gina right now.”
Everything went dead silent. All I could hear was her labored breaths as I imagined her running around her house doing random things to prepare for this life change. “Excuse me? Why is that dirty cunt-face man-stealer in your house, talking to your man, and you’re not there.”
“That’s an awful lot of yours in one sentence.”
“Yeah, well, tell me I’m wrong. That man is yours. What gives?”
“True. But I trust him.” I twirled a lock of my hair around my finger. “They went through a lot together over there, Gin. He’s barely scratched the surface of the healing process. And she looks like shit.”
“Good!” she said too quickly. My best friend was fooling no one. She was as protective of me as I was of her, and according to Gin, I’d been wronged by Gina. Technically, I hadn’t, because Wes had been a free agent when he had relations with her. And I was also banging Tai at the time. It took him being with Gina for me to realize how much I wanted to be the only woman he’d make love to, kiss, sleep next to, and everything in between.
I had to bring Gin’s revengeful side under control. Especially if she was going to move out here. It was likely that Gina and Ginelle’s paths would cross. “Ginelle, really, it’s not good. If she had lost all that weight by throwing up or doing drugs, or the fear in her eyes was because she didn’t get a part or was brokenhearted over some other schlub, I’d rejoice. Problem is, some major trauma happened over there. Stuff I don’t even know that I could handle hearing, but I feel as though I have to in order to help Wes heal. He saw things that give him night terrors. And if Gina healing will help him, I have to find a way to be the bigger person. You know?”
Ginelle’s joking stopped all together. “So they hurt her pretty bad?” She was whispering as if someone else could hear her and she was trying to be respectful.
“My guess…irreparably,” I answered truthfully, not knowing how else to put it into words.
“Well you’re a better woman than I.”
I snickered. “Ain’t that the truth?” I turned the mood and brought it back to one that was strictly us.
“Oh, you dirty whore! I’ll give you that one. Only because you scored my ass my dream job and are letting me move into your Malibu mansion. You know, I may never leave.”