DAISY
I was on my third drink when Valerie slid into the bar stool, next to mine. She let out a labored breath and signaled to the bartender for a glass of tequila.
”You're late,“ I said with a smile. It was supposed to come off as a tease, but Valerie was oddly in no mood for jokes.
“Blame it on that perv,” She blurted out, somewhat irritatedly, gulping down her drink. The bartender had dropped it in front of her a second ago.
Okay, this was the last mood I expected her to be in. When she called me up a while ago and asked that we hang out here, she was psyched to visit the biggest clubhouse in the region.
The fact that we just got to California today and I was still jet lagged didn't mean a thing to Valerie. She wanted to party, and she was hellbent on bringing me along.
But then,
