Page 97 of Semantics

Violet shrugged a shoulder.

“You’re not?”

“No. I should’ve agreed to the help in the first place. I was putting my pride ahead of the business, and I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Okay. Then, why are your arms crossed over your chest like you’re really pissed off that I’m here?”

“Because I am. Well, I’m not pissed, but I’m not exactly happy.”

“You’re not?” Stella asked, looking confused.

“No, I’m not,” Violet stated. “I told you that I didn’t want to talk tonight because I was going to celebrate with my friends. Stella, I appreciate you sending the emails and helping out this past weekend, because your ideas, though hard for me to admit, did help us secure the investment, but you don’t work with us. This was supposed to be our night out. I told you that I’d talk to you tomorrow night.”

“Yes. Then, you texted me again and said that I should come here.”

“What? No, I didn’t,” she protested.

Stella pulled her phone out of her pocket, unlocked it, opened her app, and held it up to Violet’s face.

Violet Russell: If you’re free, you should come to Blue with us tonight. We’re heading there soon.

“I didn’t send that.”

Violet took the phone from her and re-read the text.

“Maybe you were tipsy and don’t remember,” Enya suggested.

“I wasn’t that tipsy, but this is a message from me. Our earlier messages are here, too.”

“Oh, hey!” Arlowe said, hurrying over and wrapping an arm around Stella. “You came?”

“I did, yeah,” Stella replied. “How drunk are you right now?”

“A little. Want a drink? I’ll buy.”

“Arlowe, why are you not surprised that Stella is here?” Violet asked.

“Oh, because I stole your phone when we were toasting in the living room earlier, and I texted her and told her to show.”

“How do you know my password?”

“What are you talking about? Hi. I’m Arlowe.” Arlowe waved at her. “I’m pretty techy. Besides, I set up my face on Face ID on all your phones whenever you get a new one, and your password is 154794. Enya’s is–”

“Hey!” Enya stopped her.

“What is 154794?” Stella asked.

“Can we maybe stop sharing my phone password with the entire club? It’s just random numbers that I will now be changing.” She looked from Arlowe to Stella. “More secure that way unless your roommate is a nosy computer software engineer.”

Arlowe laughed her drunk laugh and said, “I’m glad you could make it. Violet is, too.”

“No, she’s not. So, I should go.” Stella reached for her phone, which Violet didn’t realize that she was still holding, and added, “I’m sorry. I thought I was invited.” She tucked her phone into her pocket. “Maybe… call me tomorrow or something, like you’d planned.”

Stella turned then, escaping Arlowe’s arm around her shoulders, and walked in the direction of the club’s door. She looked disappointed, which made Violet feel horrible, so she smacked Arlowe on the shoulder.

“What the hell, Arlowe? Why would you do that?”

“Because you like her, and she likes you.”