A loud cackle erupted from the back corner, and Johanna turned toward the direction of her so-called friends.
Traitors. Every last one of them.
Milan waved wildly from a table near the window, her honey-blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders while oversized gold hoops flashed beneath the bakery lights.
“There she is!”
Heads turned instantly.
Several women grinned.
One older woman near the counter actually fanned herself dramatically.
“Oh, honey,” she drawled. “That firefighter was gorgeous.”
Johanna froze.
Debra pressed her lips together behind the register, clearly trying not to laugh.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to come here,” Johanna muttered.
“Too late now,” Debra chirped. “Your business is all over town.”
Johanna sighed.
This was going to be a long day.
Johanna grabbed her coffee from the counter before making her way toward the table where Milan, Tasha, Leigh, and Nia sat looking entirely too pleased with themselves.
The women occupied the corner booth like they owned it, which, honestly, they practically did.
Tasha sat stretched comfortably against the window side, all long legs, caramel skin, and corporate-girl perfection. Her sleek black bob curved sharply against high cheekbones.
Leigh lounged beside her wearing dark skinny jeans, a leather jacket, and a grin full of bad decisions. Deep mocha skin glowed beneath the warm bakery lighting while waist-length locs spilled over one shoulder.
Then there was Nia.
Quietly pretty. The dangerous kind.
Smooth brown skin, soft almond-shaped eyes, and thick curls piled into a messy puff that somehow made her look both effortless and intimidating at the same time.
“Sit.” Nia didn’t speak often, but when she did, everybody listened.
Milan slid a red velvet cupcake toward Johanna the second she sat down. It was bribery.
Smart.
Johanna narrowed her eyes while settling into the booth. “I want all of you to know y’all are terrible people.”
Tasha gasped dramatically, one manicured hand pressed against her chest.
“We are amazing people.”
“Amazing? You secretly bid eighteen hundred dollars on a man, in my name, without my permission.”
“Correction,” Leigh said proudly while sipping iced coffee through a straw. “We invested eighteen hundred dollars into the future of you and your man.”
Johanna stared at them. “He’s not my man.”
