“I'm marrying her. Fuck that and fuck you to Mr. Baldhead Ass Marcelle!” he said before peeling out of the parking lot and going on about his day.
η
The hostess recognized Nina the moment she stepped through the entrance doors.
“Ms. Marcelle. Your party is already waiting.”
Nina followed her through the dimly lit dining room.
Danyelle was already halfway through a glass of Pinot Noir when Nina rounded the corner.
“There she is.”
Nina laughed as they embraced.
“I know. I'm late. Hiiiii!” Traffic was a mess. Roberto got her here as fast as he could. Nina worked up until he pulled up to the curb.
“You are.” Danyelle sat back down. “But since you’re paying, I’ll allow it.”
“I knew there was a catch.”
“Isn’t it always darling,” she joked.
The waiter arrived almost instantly, already familiar with Nina’s usual order. She requested sparkling water before ordering the lobster ravioli. Danyelle opted for the ribeye she’d been talking about all week.
“You still not drinking?” Danyelle asked.
“It makes me sluggish. I’ll have a glass of wine every now and then,” she lied easily.
Once the waiter disappeared, the conversation shifted effortlessly the way it always did between them. Business. Family. Social media. The latest celebrity scandal. Danyelle’s newest situationship that she swore she was done entertaining even though she still answered his phone calls every other night.
“I’ve been yapping since you sat down. Fill me in on everything.”
Nina didn’t have much to update her on. They talked as much as their schedules permitted. “Life is good, work is great. Nothing juicy to share, unfortunately.”
Nina didn’t do much these days.
Danyelle leaned forward.
“You’re gorgeous.”
“Well, thank you friend,” she said bashfully.
“You’re successful,” she added. Nina could tell that she was a little tipsy.
“I’m trying to get there.”
“Anddd, you’ve got men throwing themselves at you. You’re living the life bitches dream of.”
“I can’t wait for you to get to the point,” she teased.
Danyelle took the last sip of her wine. “So why in the hell have you been acting like you're ninety-three years old?”
Nina burst into laughter. “You’re more dramatic than me, I swear.”
“I’m serious!” Danyelle insisted. “You’re young, rich, pretty, but for some reason your ass won’t leave the house!” She didn’t understand.
“I don’t want to be outside though.” She’d always been a homebody. Some things just wouldn’t change. No matter how much money she made, she was still going to choose being home over being out. Nina stepped out just enough to keep her social battery charged.
