I cleared my throat to find a voice that sounded more human, but my second attempt at talking wasn't much better. "Yes."
"Are you sick?"
"No," I answered, grabbing a can of diet soda from the table next to my chair. I shook it to find the can about half empty and took a swig. Yuck. Flat diet soda absolutely sucked donkey nuts. I grimaced as the vile liquid slid down my dry throat. At the very least, it served its purpose to wet my whistle so I could talk without sounding like a toad.
"Are you sure? The way you sound, I feel like I should be ordering a casket. May I suggest something in taupe? That way your pasty-ass complexion won't stand out so much."
"Nice to talk to you too, whore. Just an FYI, corpses are all pale. Even your tan ass will be pasty when you kick the bucket."
Olivia snorted with laughter through the phone and I couldn't help smiling. I'm sure an outsider listening to one of our conversations would seriously question our friendship. Words like whore and slutbag were regular terms of endearment for us. Nestling my cell phone between my shoulder and ear, I clicked save on my laptop before setting it aside. I hated taking a break when I was in the zone, but my bladder was done being ignored. I stood up, groaning like my grandpa during Thanksgiving at the way my body popped and creaked. Every single muscle in my legs and back was stiff and tight. Considering I was only twenty-two years old, it was nothing to brag about. "Hey, Liv, can I call you back? I have to pee something fierce and my stomach is threatening mutiny if I don't throw some sustenance in it."
"No, wait! I was calling for a reason. I need you. Like now." Her tone was as dramatic as she could make it.
Rolling my eyes, I danced outside the bathroom, trying my best not to wet my pants. "Liv, I'll call you back. I promise." My attempt to reassure her was sincere, but the toilet was taunting me like a prized throne.
"No, you won't. I know you too well to fall for that line. You'll go pee, fix something to eat and then totally get wrapped back up in your book. I'm not hanging up until you agree to come help me."
"Come help you?" I grimaced, catching my reflection in the mirror. To call it bad would have been an understatement. If it were Halloween, I could have terrified every kid that came to my door. My hair stuck out in several directions from what appeared to be a haphazard attempt at a bun on top of my head. I remembered becoming aggravated around two a.m. after my hair kept falling in my face, obstructing my view of the computer screen. Somehow between then and now it had turned into a condemned bird's nest. My stretched-out T-shirt gracefully showcased a chocolate stain from when I became a little overzealous with a Hershey's syrup bottle. I'd unwittingly allowed my chocolate supply to run out, and desperate times called for desperate measures. The worst part was my yoga pants, which made my hair and T-shirt almost seem classy. Most of my thigh area was covered in orange fingerprints from when I'd been too wrapped up in my current work in progress to grab a napkin while I munched on cheese puffs.
"Liv, I'm not going anywhere." I turned away from the mirror before it could break or my reflection could shriek in disgust. "I look like something the cat wouldn't bother dragging in. Besides, I want to finish this chapter before I lose my groove."
"Nicole, this is serious. If you want that smexy book to have a cover, you need to get your ass down here. The lighting is just right, and we only have a small window to catch it. The forecast for the rest of the week is calling for rain."
Unable to put my bladder off a moment longer, I dropped my cheese-covered pants and sank down on the toilet. "Liv, you know those crackpots on the news never get the weather right. It's the only job where you can be wrong all the time and still stay employed."
"Are you peeing while you talk to me?"
"What else was I supposed to do? You said you weren't hanging up. Besides, you've heard worse. Need I mention Brent?"
"God no. Please don't remind me. I still can't believe that ass pimple called me while he was taking a dump. I mean, who the hell does that? Ugh, the noises scarred me for life."
I chuckled as I finished my business.
"Are you coming?" she asked while I washed my hands.
"Um, that's a personal question, but no, I was just peeing."
"You're such a perv. Get your ass down here now. You're gonna make me miss my shot, and then I'm going to have to bitch-slap you."
"Liv, seriously. I'm a mess. Let me at least jump in the shower and then I'll head out."
"There's no time. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't serious. I feel our window for this cover is closing. You're the one who said you don't want to use stock photos. If I can't get this shot, we're not going to have much of a choice."
I sighed heavily, seeing no excuse Olivia would accept. If she was resorting to the stock photos threat, things must be red-alert serious. Olivia had not only been my best friend since middle school, she was also the creative genius behind the covers for each of the books I had self-published during the last two years. She'd always had an eye for photography, but never put any serious effort into it until I asked her to do the cover for the novel I had written freshman year at college. The book took well over a year to finish, but after endless rereads and edits, I finally found the nerve to put my work out there. It didn't break any records or become the dream of every author by making it into Oprah's Book Club, but it did provide a steady income I never counted on. Three books later, my classes were being paid for without the aid of student loans, and I was able to afford a modest apartment not far from the beach. By the time I released the final book in the series, right after Christmas, I was pulling in enough income to become completely independent.
"Fine. I'm on my way," I told her, not bothering to look in the mirror again. No reason to dwell on the fact that I looked like pond scum. I wouldn't be gone long, and it wasn't like I was trying to impress anyone.
"Thank you." She cut the connection without a goodbye. It was nothing new. Olivia was a mover and a shaker.
Grabbing my bag and keys, I headed out the door after promising my cat, Severus, that I'd feed him as soon as I got home. His only acknowledgement was to roll over and show me his fluffy belly as he basked in the warm rays of sun streaming through my patio door. Obviously, food was not high on his agenda. I wished I could say the same thing, but my stomach was grumbling. I left my apartment before I could change my mind. For Olivia's sake, this trip better turn out to be as necessary as she claimed.
The sun was almost too bright when I stepped from my apartment complex. Blinking rapidly, I fumbled through my bag for my sunglasses, feeling like I was part vampire or some other creature that preferred the darkness of night. The black asphalt parking lot radiated heat like an oven. I ignored the small beads of sweat already trickling down my back and into the waistband of my yoga pants.
By the time I made it to my jeep that was parked under the only tree in the lot large enough to provide any kind of shade, I had given the gods of heat or sun or anything else that caused me to sweat an earful. The rest of the lot was filled with palm trees. I figured parking under the larger tree would keep my jeep cooler, but it still felt like one degree cooler than hell inside.
Swiping a hand across my damp forehead, I climbed into my vehicle and immediately cranked the AC to high, ignoring the initial blast of hot air that hit me in the face as my jeep idled to life. It was less than a five-minute drive to the beach where Olivia was taking pictures. During any other time of the year it made for a pleasant walk, but even with a mild breeze off the ocean, the summer temperatures were too harsh. Besides, I was spoiled by air conditioning.
The beach looked relatively dead as I pulled into the parking lot. It was the middle of the week and this particular stretch of sand was populated mostly by moms with their toddlers and other small children. Endless beach toys, towels and coolers filled with juice boxes were strewn about under brightly colored umbrellas. Most of the kids were busy playing in the shallow incoming waves or building sandcastles. Their mothers, on the other hand, looked noticeably curious about Olivia and her models set up not far down the beach.