Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Therefore, I was sure to give him quality Oasis courtyard time and encouraged him and his boys to come to The Surf Club for lunch so he could get his dose of crazy.
The transformation of the Oasis, by the way, jetted forward swimmingly.
The mural was kickass. The window boxes were affixed and gave the flow of the woman in the mural’s skirt more depth and personality. The solar panels were installed on the roof, and they gave hella relief on the electric bill. The cameras were mounted, aimed to the parking lot. And in November, when it was officially too cold to swim, the pool deck was torn up, the pool itself drained, and work began on new decking and resurfacing.
Not to mention, Luna and Jess living so close was everything.
So things were coming up roses all around.
And it just got better when Ryan told us he put money down on a house, and within a day, Harlow got word a unit had opened up for her at the Oasis.
But really, seriously, are you with me?
That was fishy!
Jessie and Harlow were not invited to go in and meet Clarice.
However, we received an email from Arthur that we could collect the keys from the management office of a storage unit four blocks away.
We were given three keys, one each to units eleven, twelve and thirteen.
In eleven was the Accord. In twelve was the Merc. And in thirteen was a blue Kia Sportage.
The Kia had two more stun guns, Tasers and burner phones in it. All three cars had two sets of handcuffs, with keys, in the glove compartments. And on the hood of the Merc were four boxes of business cards, one that said Kelly Garrett, one that said Jill Munroe, then there was Dylan Sanders and Natalie Cook.
And on the driver’s seat of the Merc was a laser pointer.
So yeah.
We were set.
Not to mention, on the back walls of all of the units, there were side-by-side bulletin boards and whiteboards (so my wall was free to be just a wall…if there was a next time).
We only rolled in these wheels to meet up with Jinx and some, or all of her girls at that crappy-ass diner.
Though, we found they had great burgers. Not as great as Lenny’s, but they didn’t suck.
Cameo was hanging in there, but she hadn’t been taken for that long.
Though, weirdness of weird, someone told Betsy they’d paid for therapy sessions for Christina.
I thought at first that might be about Cap and his team, or Arthur.
It was Persia who gave it up that it was Jinx and the Rolex.
“Bitch better get her head on straight,” Jinx said when Luna’s, Jessie’s, Harlow’s and my eyes moved to her. “I’m not payin’ for her to gab at a shrink for the next century.”
I didn’t know how the other girls who were found in that warehouse were faring.
But before Thanksgiving, Luna and I listened to three voicemails on the burner (she kept getting disconnected, but that didn’t stop her from calling again to get it all out) from Betsy that could be described as nothing but a diatribe about how “my Christina is doing my head in!”
So at least we knew Christina was making progress.
But now was now.
And Cap and I were getting ready to head over to Scott and Louise’s for Thanksgiving.
Dad and Deb were again at the Hermosa Inn, and they were meeting us at the house.
And by “getting ready,” I meant Cap was crafting some kind of green bean casserole, which bore no resemblance to the one I made that had three ingredients (his had about eighty! (slight exaggeration)).
As mentioned, my pudding had to have time to cure, so I’d started that yesterday, and finished it half an hour ago.
And we were having an interesting conversation.
“About all that shit from The Container Store,” he began.
I stopped blending my eye shadow where I sat at the bar doing my makeup, and looked to the plethora of Container Store bags that were piled up in a corner.
I thought he was on about Nala, the gray and white semi-kitten (she was only eight months old) who was batting at the bags while her sister, Godiva (not a sister by blood, Godiva was much older), a Siamese, sat on my couch and stared at her like she was an idiot.
These were Shanti’s cats. Shanti lived under me and a couple over. Shanti had gone home for Thanksgiving. And Shanti gave gratitude in the form of Nordstrom gift cards.
I went back to blending, at the same time assuring, “There’s nothing in there she can hurt.”
“No, I’m talking about me installing all that shit in your bedroom closet, hall closet and laundry nook this weekend.”
As mentioned, Harlow was a master at this kind of thing, and as far as I could tell, with the sketch she delivered, she was going to double the space, and I didn’t even need the space doubled in the hall closet and laundry nook.