Ava was pretty cutthroat, she suspected, judging from their history. Ava seemed to want the best and seemed to want tobethe best, so this kind of thing was probably right up her alley, which was a big part of why Regan hadn’t wanted to talk to her about it.
With a resigned sigh, she picked up her phone and FaceTimed Kiki, who picked up before the second ring.
“Hey, bitch,” her roommate said with a grin. “I was just going to call you. How’s it going up there in the Land of Baked Goods? Have you voted all the others off the island—er, out of the mansion yet?”
Just hearing Kiki’s voice made her muscles relax a bit, and she started to feel better almost instantly. “Not exactly how it works. Which is…strange.”
“No? What do you mean?” Kiki set the phone against something on their counter, and Regan watched as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“I don’t even really know. Apparently, Liza decides at the end of the eight weeks who she thinks deserves the money. She didn’t really give us rules or details other than that.”
“I have read more than once that she’s an egomaniac, you know.”
Regan grinned. Kiki loved celebrity gossip. She read all the sites that reported on bad behaviors, the lists ofworst celebrity tippers, that kind of thing. Regan wasn’t at all surprised that she had dirt on Liza Bennett-Schmidt. “I know. You’ve told me many times.”
“Are you alone in your room?”
“Yes.” Regan drew the word out, not understanding why Kiki would ask that until she continued.
“How’s the roommate situation? You haven’t killed her in her sleep yet, have you?”
“Not yet.” Regan’s brain decided right then to show her an image of Ava at her desk, black-rimmed glasses on her face, looking studious and, yes, damn gorgeous. “It’s been fine. But listen, I want to see my cat. Where is he? You’re not letting him go to parties, are you?”
Kiki bent out of the frame, then stood up with Artie in her arms. “Nope. Only strip clubs. I hope that’s okay.”
Regan’s voice devolved into baby talk, as it often did when she spoke with her cat, and her heart clenched in her chest as she was filled with a sense of longing. Damn, she missed her boy.
She had just hung up from Kiki when there was a soft rap on her door. When she called for the visitor to come in, she was surprised to see both Madison and Paige.
“Hey, you guys,” she said, hopping to her feet. She noticed Madison look from Ava’s very tidy side of the room to her own disheveled side and, for a moment, wished she’d at least made her bed that morning. “What’s up?”
“We’re bored,” Paige said. “We’re gonna go into town for lunch. Wanna join?”
Well, she’d already talked to her cat, and her plan for the rest of the day had been to look over some of her recipes for upcoming bakes, but she certainly didn’t need the entire afternoon to do that. “That sounds excellent. I’m in.”
* * *
When Ava returned to the room from her workout, she was relieved to see a pile of freshly laundered towels on each of their beds—courtesy of Liza’s household staff—but no sign of Regan, and she blew out a breath. Man, that woman could push her buttons, and what was worse, she didn’t understand why.
The workout had helped. Liza had a state-of-the-art treadmill—no surprise there—and Ava had lifted some weights, then done a three-mile run before walking for another two. She felt invigorated now, realizing how much she’d missed regular exercise being away from home. She vowed to use the gym more often as she headed into the shower.
Once she was all refreshed and had decided to let her hair air-dry, she combed it back from her face, then got comfy on her bed and sent a text to Mrs. Carter, checking on Jiminy. A surprisingly tech-savvy senior, Mrs. Carter texted back immediately and even sent a photo of Jiminy looking right into the camera with his bright green eyes. Ava smiled and felt a pang of sadness hit her right in the chest. “I miss you, buddy,” she whispered softly, running her fingertips over the photo. A quick check of the calendar told her there were five and a half more weeks left in the retreat, and in that moment, they felt like a lifetime.
Shoving down her homesickness, she pulled out her laptop. She’d intended to do some surfing and check out some of the bakers she followed on TikTok and YouTube, but suddenly, she just felt sad and low-energy. The exercise had invigorated her, but missing her cat had pulled her down off that high. She clicked on to Netflix and had just settled in to watch a movie when the door opened and Regan came in. Or stumbled in, which was more accurate.
“Hey,” Ava said, looking up from the screen.
Regan blinked at her several times before waving.
Ava studied her for a moment before venturing a question. “Are you drunk?”
Regan held her thumb and forefinger close together as she dropped her butt onto the end of her bed. “I’m not drunk, but I am most definitely a little tipsy.” Except she said the wordlittlelikel’il.
“And how did that happen?”
“I had some drinks, that’s how.”
Ava nodded, gave her head a quick shake, and turned back to her movie. When a few moments went by and it stayed quiet, she glanced back up to see Regan still sitting on her bed, staring at her. “Something I can help you with?” she asked. She hadn’t meant it to come out snarky, but it kind of did, and she grimaced slightly at her own tone.
