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my stomach churning more. I sense an encore performance coming. The hell if I’m puking anywhere in front of or on him again! Clamping two hands over my mouth, I turn and make a run for the bathroom. Unfortunately, something jumps out and trips me and a second later I find myself sprawled across the floor, the cool tile chilling my completely naked body, a dull pain beginning to ache in my toe.
    “Shit, are you okay?” I hear from behind me.
    I’m going to puke . I’m going to puke doing a facedown starfish if I don’t get up right now . The bathroom is no more than six feet away and I know I’m not going to make it all the way back to my feet. So I do the next best thing.
    Scrambling to my hands and knees, I crawl toward the bathroom.
    The bellow of laughter from behind me—oh God, the view he must have of me right now! I didn’t think this through!—only makes me pick up speed, until I’m crossing the threshold, slamming the door, and flipping the lock. I lunge for the toilet just as another wave of green shoots out, filling the bowl.
    When I’ve purged my stomach of its toxic contents, all I can do is lean my forehead against the toilet seat and relish the cool porcelain as my rib cage throbs and my body breaks out in a sweat.
    A soft knock sounds on the door. “You okay in there?”
    I don’t answer. I can’t answer.
    Why! Why did this happen to me? I’m not a puker! Lina is the puker!
    “You know, if you hated the shirt that much, you could have just asked me to take it off. I was about to anyway.” I don’t know how he could possibly be making jokes about this. He’s the one covered in vomit. Just the thought has me shuddering. “Look . . . Some chick just puked on me and I really could use a shower. Can I come in?” The door handle jiggles and I thank baby Jesus for having given me the good sense to lock it. The last thing I want is to have him come in here and see my naked body hunched over his toilet. I need to get my clothes and get out of here without facing him. Ever again.
    “You’re alive, right?” There’s finally a hint of worry in his tone. “I don’t have to bust down this door?”
    That’s the last thing you have to do . “I’m good.” I pull myself up to the sink to splash my face with some cool, fresh water. Reaching for his mouthwash, I dump a mouthful in and begin gargling.
    “Come on, Jill. We’ve all been there. I’m sorry I laughed.”
    I’ve never been so happy that I used a fake name. The story will go down in history as a puking purple-haired girl named Jill who crawled to his bathroom, her naked fat ass wiggling the entire way. I’m fine with that.
    There’s a long pause and then I hear his heavy sigh. “I’m leaving some bottled water next to the door for you. Don’t drink the tap water or you’ll be spending the rest of your vacation in the bathroom.” His footsteps move away just as another wave of nausea hits me, courtesy of my minty-fresh breath.
    I dive for the toilet again.

Chapter 4

    BEN
    Two months later
    “Not an ocean view, but it’s all yours,” Jack Warner offers, leading me into a tiny, empty office the size of a closet, with a window overlooking the small parking lot.
    “Ocean views are overrated,” I throw back with a grin.
    That earns a chuckle as my new boss slaps a strong hand over my shoulder. “Glad to have you joining us, Ben. My son credits you as the reason he graduated law school with such high grades.”
    “Your son’s a smart guy, Mr. Warner.”
    “He says you’re smarter. That’s why I hired you. And call me Jack.”
    I’m liking my law school buddy’s dad more and more. After a rather intense interview, I was convinced he was an uptight prick and I had no hope in hell of getting hired. I was surprised when he personally called with the job offer a few weeks ago. What a fucking relief that call was! Given that I’ve been too busy making solid money as a bouncer at a strip club to try for an intern position