OBSESSED

7

LEAH

My Uber parked along the curb where Fleet and Mackinac Street intersected. I thanked the polite but silent driver and slipped out of the car.

The little sedan zipped back into traffic as I straightened my dress with a little huff.

Peering up at the neon sign, I frowned.

The sign read Hawkin's Bar + Club in large, red neon letters.

Weird. This was not the name of the place Isabelle had mentioned she'd meet me.

I pulled out my phone to compare the address she sent me and the drop-off location of the rideshare. Yeah, this was definitely the right address.

What the hell are you getting me into, Isabelle? I cursed her in my mind.

I dialed her number, rolling my eyes.

She answered immediately. "Leah!" she said cheerily. "Are you there?"

"I'm somewhere," I grumbled. "My Uber took me to the address you sent but there's a different name on the building. I thought we were going to that new speakeasy place?"

"Yeah . . . about that."

A slightly nauseous feeling crept into my stomach. Was she about to ditch me?

"Isabelle," I hissed.

I better not have left the sweet comfort of my sweatpants just to get dumped by my best friend.

"Just hear me out!" she said quickly. "My sister set me up with this blind date arranged tonight, but I had this last-minute client book an appointment tonight and it was an emergency and she's one of my All-Stars so I couldn't turn her down—"

"Jesus, Isabelle, take a breath." I huffed.

"Sorry, I just don't want you to be mad at me."

Glaring up at the neon sign, I placed my free hand on my hip. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Are you telling me I am here to go on your blind date?" I said.

She hesitated before meekly admitting, "Yes?"

"Oh, my god. You are so fucking fired."

"You can't fire your best friend."

"Yes! Yes, I can! Isabelle, no." I groaned. "I can't go on a date with some rando that wasn't even meant for me. I can't pretend to be you! You're tall and gorgeous and very brunette."

"Please, Loca! I need you. My sister will be pissed if I don't do just this one thing for her. You know she's trying to get her matchmaking business launched."

After several deep breaths, I nodded to myself.

Isabelle did plenty of favors for me in the past, some of which were worse than this.

I recalled an especially vivid and haunting memory of her scrubbing my vomit out of the carpet fibers of Danny's condo. He threw a party for his fancy investor friends and he kept begging me to take shots with them. After the last one, I was too sick to even make it to the bathroom.