I hummed, setting my purse beside me and taking a sip from the slender flute garnished with an edible purple flower and sugared rim. The tart flavors burst across my tongue, and I savored the bite of champagne mixed with the sweet crystals along the rim.
“Oh. I like this one.”
“Well, finish it fast so you can order a full-sized glass.” Mina winked and picked up a burgundy-colored mimosa from the flight, swirling it in the glass and plucking a cherry from the rim. “This one has pomegranate seeds and orange juice.”
“Sounds tasty. But I still have to drive home and be conscious for the rest of the day, you know.”
“Ugh,” she whined, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her palm. “Consciousness is overrated.”
I chuckled, shaking my head before opening the menu and zeroing in on the biscuits and gravy special. Biting my lower lip, my stomach made a very unsexy gurgling noise, reminding me I gave up dinner for sexy time last night. Unable to stop the smile that spread across my features, I set down the drink and hid my face behind the menu, wondering if the chocolate chip waffles with crispy bacon were a better choice.
“Whoa now. Don’t think I didn’t catch that smirk. I know we’ve only known each other since karaoke, but I need to know the reason behind that smile.”
I rolled my eyes, setting the menu down and tilting my head. “Absolutely not. This brunch is to celebrate you, lady. You and your decision to quit your job and travel the world.”
“Oh, my freaking gawd,” Mina gasped, choking on air and pressing her hand to her chest. She gripped the edge of the table with her other hand as her eyes widened with a panicked, wild gaze. “I quit my job. I cashed out my retirement. I have to sublet my apartment. Then pack. I booked a cruise. I don’t have a place to live.”
She fanned her face as I stood, crowding her space on the opposite side of the booth and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You are a brave fucking woman for doing this, and every person you told the other night is so proud of you for taking this chance.”
“Really?” she squeaked, as I thrust the rest of the mimosa into her hand and she took a sip. “I didn’t just ruin my life?”
“Ruin your life? Um…do you know how amazing your resume is going to look when you’re finished with your travels?”
“Amazingly lacking,” she said, as the server returned and we placed our orders, along with two waters and a Bloody Mary with extra green olives for me.
“Don’t sell yourself short. Think of all the skills you can hone while you travel. What about the people you meet andthe connections you’ll make? You could work on photography, become a travel writer focusing on fashion and sightseeing. The possibilities are endless.”
“I minored in journalism in college.”
“See? That’s great. Start a blog. Apply to travel magazines or speak to travel agents. You have so many options.”
“So, this wasn’t a big mistake, and I didn’t ruin my life?”
“Hardly,” I said, humming at how yummy the Bloody Mary looked, complete with celery and thick, black pepper bacon. “The only way this will be a mistake is if you waste away in a hotel room, afraid of taking a chance on something unknown, instead of giving it your all and getting out there.”
“I wouldn’t do that. There’s too much I could miss watching from a balcony. Hey, you should come with me! Just on the cruise. Or maybe meet me in England. Or what about Norway? What do you say?”
“Oh, I don’t know about all that, Mina. My life’s too up in the air to think about traveling anywhere past the grocery store.”
“Well, just take some time before you decide, yeah? I have a ton of brochures in my car. I’ll give you like half of them so you can look through my itineraries.”
“Sure. Okay. I can do that.”
“Good. Now, tell me about the inheritance. What’s the story and whose ass do I need to kick?”
I chuckled, shaking my head and taking a drink before moving back to my side of the table. “For as much grief as Trey is giving me, the process is fairly simple. I’ve met with my lawyer twice, the same firm that handled my divorce, so they already know what a peach he is.”
“Oh, that’s good. They’ll have the whole sordid story of your marriage and be able to make sure your ex is left with nothing.”
“Not nothing,” I said, sighing. I bit the inside of my cheek, pushing down the spitefulness that immediately bubbled to thesurface whenever his name was spoken. “He has the house and the young wife. Let him stay there and do whatever he wants. But I won’t let him touch that money.”
“Good. Do you have a court date yet?” she asked, plucking a pineapple wedge from one mimosa and taking a bite.
“Yeah, surprisingly. Normally these things take months, but the firm filed an expedited petition, and the hearing is in two weeks.”
“Are they concerned that he has a legitimate claim to the money?”
I thought about her question, and the several conversations I’d had with the law office since I’d learned that Trey had opened my mail. Not that I was worried, per se. It was more like a feeling that the universe would give me the middle finger—and Trey half of the funds.
