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“Hold on, I’m still stretching. Look how far I’m getting!”

“Your fingers don’t even reach your ankles.”

“Like you could do better?”

“A good six inches better.”

She scoffs. “Surgery has made you cocky, L.”

“Fifty bucks?”

“For six inches? You’re on.”

I grin and lower myself back to the ground. “Easiest fifty bucks I’ve made in my life,” I mutter to annoy Ruby. I stretch my legs in front of me and reach my good arm over my toes. Ruby’s jaw drops like she’s insulted by my flexibility. “Want me to go deeper, babe?”

She laughs. “You’re unreal.”

“It’s not that hard to reach your toes.”

“I wasn’t referring to your flexibility, asshole,” she jokes.

“Come on, just try. Reach a little harder.”

I expect her to ignore me, but Ruby has a mean competitive streak if you can drag it out of her. She gives me a determined look and then stretches, trying to get her fingertips to her toes.

“That’s it?” I pretend to be shocked. “You’ve got the flexibility of a corpse!” My phone beeps again, but I ignore it. “Come on, I’ll give you that fifty bucks back if you can just graze your foot with one finger. One fingernail, even.” I lean over her legs like I’m watching a high-stakes horse race. Then comes another beep from my phone.

“Nipple rings again?”

“Don’t try to distract me, get to work! You can’t afford fifty bucks right now, remember?”

She groans, reaching dramatically for her toes—just as another text comes through.

“Better check it out. Could be a clit ring this time,” Ruby says, but the lightness in her voice sounds forced.

“It’s not.” I take out my phone reluctantly. My stomach drops when I see who it is. Bring back the nipple rings. When I look at Ruby again, she’s given up on stretching and her eyes are on her lap. “So you’re working after this?”

“Uh-huh. Time to inhale some secondhand smoke.”

“That place really doesn’t bother you?”

“I didn’t say that, but it’s okay. It’s quick cash, and I basically choose how much I want to make on any given day by adjusting the height of my heels and the padding in my bra.”

I stare straight ahead and nod, trying to cool the sharp mix of heat and jealousy. “As long as it’s worth your time.”

“We’re still going to Reeve’s party tonight, right? What time?”

I turn away, remembering with dread what I committed myself to tonight. “Yeah, I might have to text you when I’m on my way if you want me to pick you up.”

“It’s going to take you that long to do your hair? No offense, Elvis, but you have no shot at achieving better hair than Reeve at his own birthday party.”

I swallow. “It’s not my hair. I have dinner plans.”

“With who?”

A nearby lawn mower powers down, leaving my silence even more silent. “Allison.” For a second her face is pure, unmasked distress, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole. “She’s pissed I didn’t go to her exhibit on Saturday.”

“Did you tell her you would?” she says flatly.