“Oh, good!”
A young, fresh-faced brunette stopped by their table, all smiles and bouncing hair. The kind of woman Dylan should be interested in. Not a woman literally old enough to be his mother.
Sam hated her on the spot. And then immediately felt like a bitch about it.
“Hi! I’m Kelsey, I’ll be your server today. Can I get you started with a cocktail? They’re half price for our lunchtime happy hour.”
“Perfect. Two peach bellinis and a glass of water for each of us. And, ah…” Emma scanned the menu in front of her. “The peach and goat cheese bruschetta appetizer, please.”
“Coming right up!”
Perky Kelsey spun on her heel and bounced over to the bar to put their order in. Folding her hands on top of the table, Emma somehow managed to grin even wider as she leaned in toward Sam. “Time to spill the tea. Man or job?”
“Man. Barely.”
“Barely as in, he’s a total neanderthal who doesn’t truly qualify as a human being?”
“No, barely as in barely legal.”
Emma’s eyes widened and for the first time in Sam’s memory, her friend was speechless. For about five seconds.
“I’ll be damned. Somebody call the forest service, we’ve had a cougar sighting.”
It took effort, but Sam managed not to laugh. “Shut up. Bitch.”
Throwing her head back, Emma let out a long peal of laughter. “You love me. So, who’s the lucky guy?”
Kelsey popped up seemingly out of nowhere carrying a tray with two champagne flutes. “Here you go, ladies. And that bruschetta should be out shortly!”
“Thank you, Kelsey.” Picking up her flute, Emma held it aloft, raising an eyebrow when Sam didn’t move.
“You’re ridiculous,” Sam muttered, but she couldn’t quite hide her smile as she lifted her glass to clink against Emma’s.
“To younger men with stamina who can hopefully find the clitoris without a roadmap.”
“Oh my god. But also, fuckingcheers.”
Emma snorted out a laugh and took a sip of her drink, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the taste. “These are just as amazing as I remember. It’s a shame we can only have one.”
“Says who?”
Pausing with the flute still at her lips, Emma raised an eyebrow. “Says common sense, since neither of us can afford to go back to work drunk.”
“Well, you’re the boss, so you can do whatever you want.”
“You’d think so, right? Unfortunately, being in charge just means being more responsible. Which means one lunchtime bellini and no more.”
“Fine. I’ll be a good girl.” With a quiet huff, Sam sipped her own drink. And then sighed as the sweet, tart flavor danced over her tongue. “Oh, that is lovely. This was an excellent choice, Em. We should do this more often.”
“Uh-huh. So, what’s going on at work that’s got you all mopey? The Sam I know would never risk even a single drink at lunch.”
“My boss is an asshole. Yesterday I was late because of that wreck on the interstate. Called him, left him a voicemail letting him know what was up, and the motherfucker still had the nerve to try and dress me down. I’m just over it.”
“Then quit.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “I can’t quit my job. I have a mortgage and a car payment and a million other responsibilities.”
“Okay, well obviously I didn’t mean justquit. But start putting out feelers. Find something new. Something better.You’re way too fucking smart and talented to be trapped in a job you hate.”
