class and fell instantly. Dani was in her twenties and hadn't come out to her family. Marin, fed up with pretending they were just roommates, gave her an ultimatum. Dani packed her bags and left—both broken hearted and in tears. Tess had gone over that night after Dani left. It was horrible. She'd never seen her friend so upset. It made Tess want to stay single for the rest of her life. Anything seemed preferable to that kind of anguish.
Marin sniffed. "Sorry, sorry. You guys have had to witness too many tears with all of this Dani bullshit. I'm done crying."
"You can cry as much as you need to, sweetie. You'd do the same for any of us if the roles were reversed," Emma pointed out.
"Yes, I would. But at some point I would tell you to suck it up. It's time."
"Okay, then Marin, I say this with all of the love in my heart...suck it up." Tess advised with a smile.
Then Emma and Jen chimed in, "Suck it up!"
Marin smiled and took a deep breath. "Sucking it up."
"Okay, so enough whining about our lack of steadies. We're beautiful, successful, all around kick-ass women. Life is good." Tess cheered.
"Better than good," Jen added.
"The best," Marin agreed.
"So, what say you? One more round?" Emma asked.
Jen and Marin said yes.
Tess stood up, grabbing her purse. "Sorry girls, can't. I have to get a good night's sleep." She threw down two twenties and started her way around, pecking her friends goodbye.
"Wuss," Emma teased.
"I know, but you know I would never turn down tequila unless justified."
"And what is this justification, Tess?" Marin asked, her blonde brow arched.
Her response was a wink. "Good night, girls. Drive safe." The decibel of their harassing comments lessened, then went silent by the time she passed the hostess stand.
Her reasons were her own and she didn't want to go into it tonight. She wanted to keep her nerves and excitement to herself. It was silly, after all. She knew it, but she felt the nerves and excitement all the same.
And it felt good.
CHAPTER NINE
It usually didn't take Tess more than fifteen minutes to find something to wear to work. But when minute forty-eight passed, she knew she needed to make some decisions or she'd be late to her morning meeting. It wasn't her morning meeting, but her lunch meeting, that had her Spanx in a twist. Today she was taking an extended lunch—her destination, the law offices of Foster, Graham, and Caraway. Today was the day...Tess was going to interview the Wesley Caraway at his office. He was an attorney in his father's law firm. She'd contacted him the week before explaining the situation, via email, of course. She couldn't take the chance of screwing the verbal pooch when she heard his voice, which was no doubt deep and smooth as silk. He said he was surprised they wanted to interview him. Tess'd sniffed when she read that line. "Really, dude, who else would they interview?" Whether the modesty was false she couldn't decipher...damn email. But in person, with only a desk between them, was a different story. A sturdy desk...sure to hold her weight when he pressed the fabric of her skirt up her thighs.
"Skirt, definitely a skirt."
Pushing aside the pile of discarded choices—including the "my ass looks huge" pants, the "I look freaking pregnant" crepe dress, and the "I'm never eating carbs again" silk tank—she selected a camel colored pencil skirt from it's dry cleaning bag. It was tight everywhere until it flared into a delicate wave at mid calf, and with a white fitted button down, it looked very flattering. She went a little heavier on the eye makeup than she normally wore to work, but it brought out the green in her mostly brown eyes. She twisted her caramel waves into submission, pinning it to the nap of her neck. High heeled sling backs or flats? She held one of each on her hand. Her mind was saying flats, you idiot. But her loins were saying, go with the heels. They'll dig into his back better.
"Heels, it is."
Logically she
Marin sniffed. "Sorry, sorry. You guys have had to witness too many tears with all of this Dani bullshit. I'm done crying."
"You can cry as much as you need to, sweetie. You'd do the same for any of us if the roles were reversed," Emma pointed out.
"Yes, I would. But at some point I would tell you to suck it up. It's time."
"Okay, then Marin, I say this with all of the love in my heart...suck it up." Tess advised with a smile.
Then Emma and Jen chimed in, "Suck it up!"
Marin smiled and took a deep breath. "Sucking it up."
"Okay, so enough whining about our lack of steadies. We're beautiful, successful, all around kick-ass women. Life is good." Tess cheered.
"Better than good," Jen added.
"The best," Marin agreed.
"So, what say you? One more round?" Emma asked.
Jen and Marin said yes.
Tess stood up, grabbing her purse. "Sorry girls, can't. I have to get a good night's sleep." She threw down two twenties and started her way around, pecking her friends goodbye.
"Wuss," Emma teased.
"I know, but you know I would never turn down tequila unless justified."
"And what is this justification, Tess?" Marin asked, her blonde brow arched.
Her response was a wink. "Good night, girls. Drive safe." The decibel of their harassing comments lessened, then went silent by the time she passed the hostess stand.
Her reasons were her own and she didn't want to go into it tonight. She wanted to keep her nerves and excitement to herself. It was silly, after all. She knew it, but she felt the nerves and excitement all the same.
And it felt good.
CHAPTER NINE
It usually didn't take Tess more than fifteen minutes to find something to wear to work. But when minute forty-eight passed, she knew she needed to make some decisions or she'd be late to her morning meeting. It wasn't her morning meeting, but her lunch meeting, that had her Spanx in a twist. Today she was taking an extended lunch—her destination, the law offices of Foster, Graham, and Caraway. Today was the day...Tess was going to interview the Wesley Caraway at his office. He was an attorney in his father's law firm. She'd contacted him the week before explaining the situation, via email, of course. She couldn't take the chance of screwing the verbal pooch when she heard his voice, which was no doubt deep and smooth as silk. He said he was surprised they wanted to interview him. Tess'd sniffed when she read that line. "Really, dude, who else would they interview?" Whether the modesty was false she couldn't decipher...damn email. But in person, with only a desk between them, was a different story. A sturdy desk...sure to hold her weight when he pressed the fabric of her skirt up her thighs.
"Skirt, definitely a skirt."
Pushing aside the pile of discarded choices—including the "my ass looks huge" pants, the "I look freaking pregnant" crepe dress, and the "I'm never eating carbs again" silk tank—she selected a camel colored pencil skirt from it's dry cleaning bag. It was tight everywhere until it flared into a delicate wave at mid calf, and with a white fitted button down, it looked very flattering. She went a little heavier on the eye makeup than she normally wore to work, but it brought out the green in her mostly brown eyes. She twisted her caramel waves into submission, pinning it to the nap of her neck. High heeled sling backs or flats? She held one of each on her hand. Her mind was saying flats, you idiot. But her loins were saying, go with the heels. They'll dig into his back better.
"Heels, it is."
Logically she
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