By the time Sabrina finally entered their shared flat, it was past six, the time she usually came home.

“Holly, you home?” she called out and headed for the kitchen, placing the bags of groceries onto the counter. Before the ice cream could melt, she put it in the freezer and turned when she heard a sound coming from the bathroom down the hall.

“Holly, you ok?”

The bathroom door was ajar. Holly was crouching on the floor in front of the toilet. She was in her pink bathrobe and throwing up.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Did you eat something bad?”

Sabrina squatted down and pulled her friend’s long blonde hair back. Her face was ashen.

“Don’t know. I was fine a couple of hours ago. But then …”

Holly’s head veered toward the porcelain throne again, and she lost yet more of the contents of her stomach. Sabrina rose and seized a washcloth from the linen closet, soaking it in cold water before she sat next to her friend again.

“Here you go, sweetie.” She pressed the cold cloth against Holly’s neck while she continued holding her friend’s hair back. “Just get it all out.”

“You look stressed. Bad day?” Holly tried to make conversation, evidently hoping to distract herself from her nausea.

Sabrina smiled gently. “Obviously not at bad as yours.”

“Hannigan again?” Holly gave her a knowing look as she clutched her stomach again and held her head over the bowl.

“Not any worse than before,” Sabrina lied. It was getting worse. He’d started making distinctly sexual suggestions and she’d run out of excuses to get out of his way. But she wasn’t going to burden Holly with this right now.

“You should really do something about it.” Holly was adamant.

“Well, let’s take care of you first before we make any plans on how to deal with Hannigan, shall we?”

She helped Holly up and sensed how wobbly she was. Sabrina supported her weight while Holly cleaned her face and rinsed her mouth with mouthwash.

“Do you want to stretch out on the couch or your bed?”

“The couch, please.”

While Sabrina helped her to the living room, the phone rang.

“Let the machine get it. I can imagine who that is.”

Sabrina only raised her eyebrow, but didn’t question her. Since she herself rarely ever got phone calls on their landline, she was pretty sure the call was for Holly anyway.

As soon as the beep sounded, an irritated female voice came through the answering machine. “Holly, it’s Misty. I know you’re there, so pick up the damn phone. Do you hear me? If you think you can just leave me a message to say you’re not taking tonight’s booking, you’ve got it coming. After what you did with the Japanese client last week, I have no more patience with you.”

Sabrina sent her a questioning look, but Holly just scowled and shrugged.

“All the other girls are booked, so there’s nobody to take your place. You’ll work tonight, no matter how sick you are, or you won’t work for me anymore. Do you hear me? And I’ll make sure nobody else in town will hire you either. I hope we understand each other. I want you at the Mark Hopkins Intercontinental, Room 2307 tonight at 7pm, or you’re fired.”

The machine stopped.

“Old hag!” Holly croaked, her voice hoarse from throwing up.

“What was that with the Japanese client?” Sabrina looked at her friend, who made a telling hand movement.

“Pervert.” At first it looked like Holly didn’t want to give any more information, but Sabrina knew her friend well and knew that eventually she’d tell her what she wanted to know. Holly wasn’t one to keep secrets.

“So, we’re in his hotel room, and I think he just wants what most of these guys want. But no, that man had to go all kinky on me. He brought with him these little steel balls on a chain, and you really don’t want to know what he wanted me to do with them …”

Sabrina gave her a look, confirming that no details were necessary. She’d already received more information than she cared for.

“So, anyway, I bolted, and when Misty found out, she basically put me on probation. Said if I walked out on a client again, she’d fry my ass. Pardon my French.”

Holly’s French was never the problem. In fact, most of her clients liked her French and anything else she could do with her tongue. Sabrina shook her head and laughed.

“Let me make you some chamomile tea.”

While she busied herself in the large eat-in kitchen and tried to find some dry crackers to go with the tea, Sabrina wondered whether any of her colleagues would find it strange that she shared a flat with a professional escort.