Free Getaway Girlz by Joan Rylen

support any decision you make,” Wendy added. “And we’re totally here for you, whatever you need. For the moment, though, we need you to be able to walk tonight.” She pulled Lucy’s drink back two inches. “Also, drink some water and take some aspirin before bed or tomorrow is going to be really rough.”
    “I know, you’re right.” She cracked open a water to drink alongside her margarita. “As for my life of lies, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Thanks though. Talking helps.”
    At least we know a little more about why she’s behaving this way .
    Rico’s turned out to be just what they all needed. Delicious guacamole, sizzling shrimp fajitas, spicy salsa, and the homemade tortillas — holy cow , Vivian thought. They were better than the Don’Key in the Get Down, and those were good .
    The service was on “Playa time.” They weren’t in a rush, but it took some getting used to. If they wanted something in 10 minutes, they better have asked for it 10 minutes ago.
    They finished dinner and walked out onto the streets of Playa, heading toward the Purple Peacock to meet Jon and Pierre. Lucy walked a little straighter having sobered up a bit.
    Was it due to her tough revelation about her lacking relationship or our lack of shots at dinner ? Vivian didn’t know.

 
     
     
CHAPTER 12
     
     
    THE STREETS of Playa hustled and bustled with vendors haggling and selling all kinds of stuff — jewelry, fruit, trinkets and t-shirts. A few men offered the girls “free massages.” Gross , Vivian thought.
    They browsed the shops but made no purchases. Plenty of time for that later. They reached the Purple Peacock after a few short blocks.
    “How are your feet, Lucy?” Kate asked opening the door.
    “So far, so good.”
    The bar was open on three sides, and, like at Rico’s, garage doors could be pulled down if the weather sucked. Picnic tables on the beach surrounded a small stage and looked inviting. Neon signs obliterated one wall, and a large cast-iron peacock sat in a place of honor at a table by the front door.
    All this peacock stuff reminded Vivian of a guy they went to school with, Marty Mills. His nickname was The Bird Man. He was into birds of all kinds, and he even kinda looked like a bird. He was tall, thin with a small head, long neck and pointy nose. Plus, he could do spot-on bird calls, which he would occasionally demonstrate in class. Always a good distraction, though he got in trouble for it. In junior high he had a pair of peacocks in his back yard. Not your average house pet. Vivian heard he was a gazillionaire now. Good for him .
    The huge, square bar in the middle of the club was the main attraction, surrounded by swings. That’s right, they didn’t have stools at the counter, they had swings, as in playground swings. Some of the swings were double seats. Vivian was afraid the swing situation wouldn’t help anyone’s equilibrium, but they couldn’t resist.
    They looked around for Jon and Pierre but didn’t see them, so they found four spots of singles together and had a seat. Actually, a swing.
    The bartender hustled over, took their drink order and suggested Tiempo Loco tequila to their margarita request.
    What’s with this tequila ? Sure it’s good, but why does everyone keep recommending it ?
    “He is hunkalicious,” Lucy said. “I may need to find myself a Latin lover!”
    “Lucy! You wouldn’t!” Kate exclaimed.
    “No comment,” Lucy said with a sly smile, but then continued. “Don’t forget, I haven’t had sex in four years.”
    None of them said anything to that.
    Their drinks arrived and they toasted to their first night in Playa.
    “It’s gonna kick ass!” Wendy proclaimed.
    They chatted about what happened with Jon during the sandcastle building.
    “Viv, he so totally digs you!” Lucy said. “Even after you told him you’re still technically married.”
    “Did you tell him about the kids?” Wendy asked.
    “No, it didn’t come up. I probably