Page 70 of Here for a Good Time
“Yeah, yeah, not a single strand of hair, I heard you,” Nita tells him. “But look around, sweetheart, you’re not exactly the one calling the shots here. Now, put your hands behind your backs again.”
“And remember,” Garima says, already reworking the rope around Zwe’s wrists. “There are two of you, and three of us.”
After they’ve retied us, Leila walks over and hands them their guns. With more speed (and glee) than I’m comfortable with, Nita and Garima shove the barrels between our shoulder blades.
Leila opens the door, steps aside, and makes a big, sweeping gesture. “After you, my esteemed guests,” she says with a mock bow.
The room is right next to the elevator, whose doors open as soon as Leila presses the down button, as though they, too, have beenwaiting this whole time—another cog in her well-oiled machine. We’re seven floors up, and as the five of us descend, I can’t help but feel something like I’m going down to the gates of hell; the feeling is made even eerier by all the mirrors around us, trapping us in a seven-by-seven fun house.
When I catch Zwe’s eyes in the mirror, he narrows them just slightly, and I get the sense that he’s still trying to reassure me that we’ll be okay even if all the current evidence is pointing to the contrary. Still, itisreassuring to know that he’s here. I take a deep breath to try to calm myself down, and, beneath the smell of sweat and dirt and rain, locate his scent.
White tea and sage cologne, a birthday present I first got him six years ago, the only present he’s ever asked for every year since. A series of flashbacks is set off in my brain, like someone’s put the last coin into the pinball machine.
Zwe, me, our parents and his brother at our high school graduation.
Zwe video-calling me from Rhode Island, me answering in Oxford, our outfits and the glimpses of scenery outside our windows changing throughout the seasons.
Zwe when I first asked him if we should rent a place together.
Zwe behind the cash register when I emerged from the stockroom after a call,thecall, with Ayesha. How he crushed me into his chest when I said, “I think I have an agent.”
Zwe popping open the champagne after I bought our apartment.
Zwe, Zwe, Zwe.
But there’s one piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit, no matter how I flip it, where I try to place it. He said that “college” had been one of the things that got in the way of him telling me, but that can’t betrue. I graze my teeth over my bottom lip in that spot where his once brushed it. The spot that I only let myself remember in my least sober moments, like a trinket locked away that I only take out and examine when I’m certain no one will catch me.
He hadn’t even wanted tokissme. No way he could’ve been in love with me then. There’s just… no way.
There’s a ding, the doors slide open, and the cool metal that’s been pressed into the nape of my neck this whole time digs in. “Move,” Nita orders, although I already am.
As we make our way down the lobby’s hardwood floors toward the reception hall, I’m surprised by how quiet everything is. I can hear the frogs and cicadas and pattering raindrops that signal the beginning of a storm, but there are no human voices. When we round the corner into the open reception area, I learn why: thereareno humans.
Leila marches ahead, rearranging two chairs so that they’re both facing the ocean. “Take a seat,” she orders, patting each cushion. “The view’s great from here.”
Very conscious of the guns still pressed to us, Zwe and I slowly sit down.
After passing the guns to Leila, Nita and Garima once again go through the motions of untying us only to retie our hands on the backs of the chairs.
When I go to put my hands behind my back, some instinct propels Antonio’s voice to the front of my brain. I try to follow along as best as my hazy, injured, dehydrated memory will let me.
Makes your wrists bigger,his voice instructs, and I line up my knuckles to form a line.
Nita’s making sure my rope istight,and at this point I can only pray that Antonio’s hack will still work.
“Where have you two been?” Leila calls out to the suddenfootsteps that echo around us. On instinct, I turn to see who they belong to, but Nita shoves her shoulder into mine.
“What the fuck!” I cry.
“Eyes forward,” she retorts.
“Bathroom break,” a new female voice says.
Leila rolls her eyes. “What is with you all today? Have you been helping yourselves to the bar?”
“We’ve been drinking a lot of water. Sorry we didn’t want to pass out from dehydration,” the voice replies flatly.
“But the bar’s a good shout. We should’ve thought of that earlier,” another new voice adds.
