This week has been very good so far for me in terms of writing. I’m moving on up, me.
Anyway, this chapter is about the age old art of shopping and the dangers it presents to the common female.
Basically, shopping will get you totally killed, and that Anita got a pizza that was both plain and covered with everything, because the editor made a complete and utter fuck up. As she gets home, her landlady Mrs Pringle and her terrier ‘Custard’ comes over and coos. Anita has a new beau who’s come up to the apartment.
“Anita, was he not supposed to be in your home? Did I let a burglar get away?”
Well done Mrs Pringle. Anita downplays the horror of having a strangler break so flagrantly into her home and acts as if she’s just jittery and nervous. Mrs Pringle says if she is nervous then he is not the right one for her.
MRS PRINGLE YOU ARE A GENIUS. Spread Mrs Pringle’s wisdom to the masses! If a man makes you uncomfortable or scared, then do not date him.
Anita sneaks up to her apartment with her gun drawn but there are no rampaging armies waiting in her apartment to attack unprepared ladies.
There was a shotgun on the kitchen table, among with two boxes of ammo. A sheet of white paper lay under it. In net, black letters, it said, “Anita, you have twenty-four hours.”
The not meant I had twenty-four hours before Edward came for the location of Nikoaos’ daytime retreat. If I didn’t give it to him, I would have to kill him. I might not be able to do that.
Why not just lie? Tell him a location, and then when there’s nothing there, say they must have all moved. No honour amongst vampire killers and all that. Anyway, there isn’t time to worry about Edward right now because there’s a party to get ready for! Phillip has left a message with the answering machine to pick him up at six thirty outside Guilty Pleasures. Seems a bit early for an orgy if you ask me. We are then treated to a long description of what Anita is wearing, what make-up she has on, and her opinions thereon. Here’s a summary: she doesn’t like dressing up or high heels. I thought all the clothes porn was in my past, back with Sookie Stackhouse. It just feels like bad padding. She also thinks it takes a very long time to find anything in a purse but she obviously has too big a bag for a party if she can’t find a gun in her handbag.
Edward had said twenty-four hours, but twenty-four hours from when? Would he be here at dawn, bright and early, to torture the information out of me? Naw. Edward didn’t strike me as a morning person. I was safe until at least afternoon. Probably.
Oh, so you think he’s the kind of person willing to torture a colleague for information? Sounds like a real nice guy.