Part 6 (2/2)

Carrying out Max's offer to treat us to dinner was like something out of an espionage movie.

We texted back and forth about how to handle the bill. If the waiter said everything was taken care of, that would raise a major investigation by my parents. So Max had arranged for the manager to inform the waiter to take my card as if I were paying, but they would just put it on Max's running tab.

”We still haven't seen your apartment,” Mom said at one point.

I had a mouthful of our appetizer and stopped chewing, but quickly brought my napkin up to my mouth and held up one finger. I knew they'd want to see it-why wouldn't they-but somehow had fooled myself into thinking they wouldn't remember. Right. Like parents wouldn't want to see where you're living. Especially mine. As I finished swallowing, I actually found myself surprised that it had taken them this long to begin with.

”Maybe when we leave here,” I said. ”I need to get home anyway. I don't have another day's worth of clothes and I might as well just stay there tonight.”

I looked at Grace, who had an expression on her face like she knew something. Maybe she suspected I had a date with Max or something. If so, she was wrong.

”The prices here are outrageous,” Dad said, a little too loud.

”Dad, don't worry about it. I told you, I've got this.”

He shook his head, and looked down at the menu again. Thank G.o.d he didn't restart the debate we'd had in the car earlier. My parents insisted that they pay for dinner, and I said it was my treat, and it was on from there. I finally got the upper hand by explaining to them that I was on my own now, with my own money, and I was an adult who could afford to treat her family to dinner.

Okay, so the truth was that I was on my own now, and I was an adult with a hot, rich boyfriend who offered to let her look like she was doing well enough to treat her family to a nice dinner at a Beverly Hills hot-spot.

That's exactly what Max had done, and why he'd done it.

My dad didn't look happy for the entire meal. In fact, he didn't say much at all.

Mom, though, seemed to have developed a knack for surrept.i.tiously glancing around the room looking for famous people. I'd heard that Spago was a good place for celebrity spotting, but it looked like we picked the wrong night.

That is, until a large entourage entered the place and people starting looking to see who it was. Turns out it was Linda Evans, an actress who starred on one of my mom's favorite prime-time soaps, Dynasty Dynasty. I'd never seen it. It was before my time. But mom was happy to tell us all about it, and we let her go on and on because she looked so star-struck and elated. Dad told us it had ruined many a baseball game for him-my mom would insist that they switch the channel for that hour, and they only had the one TV.

”Do you think we'll see Krystal?” Grace asked.

”Doubt it. But let me see.”

I got my phone out and texted her to warn her that we'd be stopping by the apartment. She texted back and said she was going to the movies with a friend. I briefly worried about whether that was true-she'd been doing well all week, getting ready for the big change-but I had my own things to handle at the moment.

”Krystal's at work again. She works so much,” I said, taking a big bite of my entree.

I couldn't wait to get home and go to sleep. All the deceit was wearing me out.

ELEVEN

I was nervous leading the way up to my apartment. The way things were with Krystal, there was no telling what we might walk in to. She could be sitting there perfectly normal, having found a bit of courage to see Grace and my parents. Or she could be on the den floor, having a threesome or a full-fledged orgy for that matter.

But it appeared she wasn't there. The apartment was dark, except for the lights over the island in the kitchen, shedding enough illumination for me as I turned on the lamps in the den.

”Well, this is it.” I shrugged. ”Not very big, I know, but by LA standards this is huge.”

My dad frowned. Mom immediately asked why we didn't have curtains on the windows and I pictured a day when I'd get a UPS package with some of her homemade curtains that were suitable only for people over sixty. Grace said she liked the place.

It was then that I noticed a flower arrangement on the coffee table. I picked it up, looked at the card, and saw that it just had a hand-drawn heart on it. Maybe someone had given them to Krystal. Or maybe it was from Max and Krystal had put them there so I wouldn't miss them. I couldn't tell, either way, without there being any handwriting.

We weren't there even five minutes before there was a knock at the door. It was two people, a guy and a girl, who said they were Krystal's friends-I'd never met them before-and they said she didn't show up for dinner and the movie was starting soon, and did I know where she was?

”No. She told me she was going out. Did you call or text her?”

The guy nodded.

The girl said, ”She's not answering.”

They had a look of concern on their faces that I knew was probably matched by mine.

”Everything okay?” Mom called out from the den.

”Yeah, just a sec.”

I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.

”You guys know she's in kind of a bad place, right?”

”Yeah. She told us everything,” the girl said. ”We're not part of that same crowd.”

”Okay, good. But I bet that's who she's with.”

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