I lean back and smile. “We did it, darling. We did it!” I cry, grabbing at her again.
She’s screaming in my ear, and I have no idea what she’s saying, but we did it.
What is this life?
At thirty-six years old, I’m a successful CEO with a company that now works internationally.
“Belle, this is bloody brilliant!” she yells, matching my enthusiasm. “How do you feel?”
“Fucking knackered.”
“I know the whole office has been stressed. I don’t think anyone slept last night. This is so big for us.”
I pull back, holding her shoulders to look her in the eye. “You, my darling Lo, are an invaluable member of my team, my right-hand woman, and I could have never done this without you.”
“Annabelle,” she whispers, wiping the tears now instantly falling from her eyes.
“And I don’t meanthis, as in this job with the DeLuca family. I mean this business we’ve built together. You’ve been with me since day one, and I couldn’t have done a single thing without you. I’m so blessed to have found you.”
“I love you,” she cries, dragging me back in for a hug.
“Looks like you two could use this?” The bartender holds up two shots of Jameson, and Lola’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“You’ll be fine. We’re not going back to the office today, and we have a lot to celebrate.”
“To the Hughes Agency,” she toasts.
“And to the badass bitches who run it!”
* * *
“I’m drunk,” Lola states.
No shit, we’re both drunk. Who knows how many hours later it is, but we’re still sitting at the bar, having had a few pints, taken several more shots, and maybe even mixed some spritzes in.
The drunker we get, the harder Lola tries to convince me to go to Italy for the summer. She’s insisting I deserve it, considering the only time I ever take off is with Sadie on our annual girls’ trips, and since she’s getting married this year, we’re postponing until autumn.
“I miss your curls.” I run my hands through her now straight hair.
“Oh god, you must be drunker than I thought if you miss the frizz. It took you five years to convince me to straighten them. Either way, I’m never going back to curls again, I have a newfound hatred toward them.”
She’s right, her hair is a disaster when she doesn’t straighten it, but it’s so Lola that I miss them.
“And don’t change the subject. If you don’t go to Italy, I’m going to take your spot and elope with Romeo, because no one else wants me,” she slurs. “Hmm, so sexy. The things I would do to him.”
My eyes widen, then so do hers.
“Did I say that out loud?” She covers her face as I bend over, laughing.
My quiet little Lola always shocks me with her candor.
I take a big sip of my drink and murmur, “Trust me. Eloping isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.” Then I take another gulp.
Thud.
What the?
Lola’s on the floor, her mouth wide open and her eyes blinking rapidly.
