ME
Whose car is this?
G
Yours.
ME
Grant!
G
You need a car in this city.
ME
It’s too much.
G
Don’t worry about it.
But I do worry about it. What does this all mean? All of it’s too much.
“Ms.?” The valet stands holding the driver door open for me patiently. Dropping my phone in my bag, I move to the other side and sink into the buttery leather seat.
“Thank you,” I say as he closes the door. The chrome accents gleam in the sun and the new car smell clings to the interior. It’s exactly the kind of car I would’ve bought myself.
That kind of deep understanding from Grant makes my heart skip a beat and I smile as I reach for the seatbelt.
Shifting into gear, I squeal with excitement at the hum of the engine when I compress the accelerator. Nashville traffic sucks. After almost an hour of being stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic,I heave out a sigh of relief when I finally pull into Gabby’s driveway. I forgot what it was like to drive in a city at rush hour. It’s been so long since I’ve done it myself instead of being chauffeured around.
“What’s up, bitches?” I call out, opening Gabby’s front door. When she texted earlier about Mark and Ricardo being gone, all I could think was “fucking finally.” It took Grant forever and a damn day to make it official. I was losing my mind waiting on him to finish the termination and make the announcement to Gabby. Every time she had a bad day or complained about Mark not pulling his weight, it almost slipped out.
“Ding dong, the dicks are dead!” Ivory sings and lifts two bottles of wine, dancing her way towards the front door from the kitchen.
“Guys, I’m honestly still in shock. I never thought this day would come.” Gabby says, holding a charcuterie board and ushering us back outside to the porch. Her covered porch is my favorite spot. The ceiling fans she installed help with air flow for the summer heat and it’s decorated with the coziest outdoor furniture. We all pile onto the couch facing the greenway across the street.
“Believe it, sister,” I say, dropping down onto the couch beside Ivory. “This was a long time coming if you ask me, and no one is more deserving.”
“Now that calls for a toast.” Ivory pours three glasses of prosecco and passes them out before lifting hers into the air. “To Gabby, the best lawyer in the game and our bestest friend!”
“Boss babe for real!” I raise my glass to the middle.
“It does feel good to be in charge.” Gabby wrinkles her nose with a tiny grin.
“Shedding the dead weight of annoying men always feels good.” Ivory laughs. Growing up in Hollywood, she dealt with it a lot. The worst was the last studio executive she was contracted with for the pilot. I’ll never forget the replay from when she gotto terminate that contract. He thought he had the upper hand, but Ivory called his bluff and walked away free and clear.
“Men are the worst,” I agree, thinking back to the men who worked at the PR firm in New York. When I got the promotion in LA, the rumor mill swirled that I slept my way to the top despite the fact that I was in a serious relationship, and Grant wasn’t even a client.
Gabby settles deeper into her seat. “I don’t want to talk about them. I’m finally with my girls again and I want to bask in this blissful reality while we drink too much wine and eat our weight in cheese and crackers.”
“The best way to spend the night if you ask me, but if I have too much wine, I’m going to have to crash in your guest room.” I point my wine glass in her direction.
“You know you’re always welcome here,” Gabby says.
“Where’d you get the wheels? That’s a fancy car,” Ivory muses.
