The VIP Treatment

The Message

                                                                            ZARI'S POV

Ariana came back out with two coffee mugs in hand. I eagerly took one of them from her and took a huge gulp. Shortly after, I spit it back into my coffee mug. The weird, foreign after taste still lingered on my tongue. "What the hell kind of coffee is this?" I frowned.

"It's vegan coffee," Ariana said, taking a seat on the far end of the white futon. She sat leaning forward, dressed in what I assumed was her boyfriend's dress shirt, given how huge it was. Her hair tied in her signature high ponytail, only this time shorter and curled upward at the ends. Her dark bangs swept to the side with pink and yellow hair clips. Somehow it reminded me of a hairstyle from the 60s. She sipped at her coffee, looking out beyond the patio.

I frowned. "You don't have any regular coffee?"

Ariana turned, shooting me a look. "I don't drink sugar-dairy based crap. That stuff goes straight to your ass." She looked me up and down. "Of course, you'd know something about that. Your ass is huge."

I paused before taking another sip. Did I hear her right? "I'm sorry, have you been checking out my butt?" I asked.

For some reason, Ariana's cheeks immediately turned beet red. "No—fuck no, ew! Why—why would I be checking out your ass?"

"I don't know, you're the only one who knows the answer to that question," I shrugged innocently. I waited with anticipation, hoping she'd give me some indication about that kiss she shared with Liz Gillies last night. And for a second, just a spilt second, it almost looked like she wanted to say something more but then suddenly, she turned away.

"Whatever, I'm going inside. The omeletes should be done now," Ariana said, getting up from the futon. She went over to the sliding doors and quickly retreated back inside the house.

I thought about following her inside and getting myself an omelete, but decided against it. They were probably vegan, too.

She didn't return outside for a long time, and I assumed she was busy eating Dalton's breakfast. Or either, they'd gone upstairs again to have sex again. The thought of it boiled my insides. Dalton seemed like a good guy, given everything the media has told us, but last night, he seemed anything but Mr. Right. The way he touched Ariana and grabbed her ass, and that weird glint in his eyes when he asked if I were a friend of hers—he wasn't at all what I pictured, especially for a guy who ran a pretty savvy real estate business. Something was definitely off about him.

My stomach started to growl. The coffee wasn't enough to hold me over. I eventually decided to head back inside and find me something to eat. But the second I walked through the sliding doors to the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks when I saw Ariana sitting at the kitchen island, looking through her phone. Oh great.

But she didn't bother looking up when I walked in. She just stared down at her phone with this sullen look on her face.