Rather than drown my sorrows in another mimosa-surely a terrible, terrible life choice that would lead to embarrassing myself and the need to vomit in public-I ordered a virgin version of tonight's decidedly brunch-centric drink of choice and turned from the smiling bartender. Leave it to Olivia to pick something tacky.
I needed to get out of here before I "slipped" and spilled my bright red concoction down the front of Vivian's dress. Time to call Petunia's and check in.
I'd left my phone in my room by "accident." There were far too many pending air quotes in the hours that were the rest of my night, I could tell. A girl had to have her amusements. As for my phone induced forgetfulness, mostly it gave me an excuse to go upstairs and escape everyone. But after that little run in with Oli
