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time we leave.
    Heidi pats my shoulder. “I think you’re more in the market for Taco Bell tonight.”
    â€œI thought you hated fast food. I thought you only ate organic.”
    â€œTonight, for you, I will make an exception.” She reaches into her pocket and throws twelve dollars on the counter. “Thanks,” she says, waving at the bartender as she lifts me out of my seat. She smiles at the guy in the vest, who is staring at the two of us. “And thanks to you for the offer.”
    â€œYeah, thanks for ruining everything! ” I shout, fighting Heidi as she tries to stuff me into my gigantic coat.
    He lifts his hands defensively. “Listen, I’m really sorry. I was just trying to be nice.”
    â€œYeah, well, mission un -accomplished.”
    I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point.
    Heidi grabs me by the elbow with her pale, bony fingers and pulls me toward the front door. “Come on, lady. Let’s get some food in you.”
    I whip my head around as Heidi pulls me through the front door and stick my tongue out at the man in the vest. He smirks and shakes his head and offers a small wave.
    â€œJerkface,” I mutter under my breath.
    Heidi drags me out the door and onto Fourteenth Street, but I slow my step as I stare at the man’s figure disappearing through the closing door.
    â€œWhat are you staring at?” she asks, her hand clasped around my arm.
    I wriggle free from her grasp and readjust my hat. “Nothing. I thought I recognized that guy for a second.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe jerk in the vest.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re in a state where you can recognize anyone right now. . . .”
    I teeter as I try to walk through a small mountain of snow and nearly lose my balance at the corner of T Street. “I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. He just looked really . . . familiar.”
    Heidi grabs my arm to keep me from falling over. “Easy there, boozehound.” She guides me onto a cleared patch of sidewalk and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Forget about the guy in the vest, okay? He’s an idiot. We have more important things to do.”
    â€œLike what? Buying a bunch of eighty-nine-cent tacos?”
    Heidi grins. “Precisely.”
    She pats my shoulder with her gloved hand and holds me tight, and together we slip and slide along the icy pavement as we make our way up Fourteenth Street.

CHAPTER 6
    The next morning, my cell phone starts ringing at the unholy hour of 5:45 a.m. It’s Heidi.
    â€œIf this is some sort of joke, I’m not laughing,” I mumble into the phone.
    Heidi doesn’t answer, and I hear an aria of retching in the background.
    â€œHeidi?”
    â€œAuuuugh,” she groans.
    I sit up and rub the sleep from the corners of my eyes. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
    â€œFucking gorditas,” she says, letting out another moan. “I think I’m dying.”
    â€œYou got food poisoning?”
    Again she doesn’t answer and instead offers the sounds of her gagging and heaving into the toilet.
    â€œYou should go to the ER,” I say. “I’ll come get you.”
    Heidi pants into the phone. “In what? Your Batmobile?”
    She makes a good point. There are multiple feet of snow on the ground, and I don’t own a car.
    â€œListen, I’ll be fine,” she says. “But I need you to cover for me at the farmers’ market this morning.”
    â€œCover for you?” I may not have food poisoning, but I am hungover and have no interest in standing outside in the cold at a farmers’ market. “Isn’t the market closed due to the snow?”
    More retching noises, followed by what sounds like a dying cow. “They’re open. West End market, near the Francis Park tennis courts.”
    I lie back into the softness of my pillow and race through different ways I can get out of