I ignore it until I can’t anymore. I stand up and wipe at my eyes with the backs of my hands until they’re covered in black grimy streaks of yesterday’s mascara. Then I stand, shakily, and pause to catch my breath before storming back into the bedroom. My iPhone is buzzing and it won’t stop buzzing, and it’s slowly sliding its way across the slick black marble of the end table next to the bed. The display says UNKNOWN, even though I know who it must be. I don’t want to answer it. But I do. “Veronica? Xavier. I’m calling from the limo. From the driver’s phone. So listen: I’m still on my way to the airport. Turns out I have your xPhone and you — well, obviously you must have my phone. So what I need you to do, is I need you to go out, take that phone to FedEx, and send it to me in Houston by Same Day Express. It has to be Same Day Express. They’ll send it right to the hotel.
