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He sighs, shakes his head. “You are supposed to be the sweet silent type.”
“Newsflash! I never have been, and that is why we are both successful. You ask that Maserati of yours. It’ll remind you.”
My phone rings. “I gotta take this. It isn’t over.”
“Hey, Anna, how are you?” I answer.
“Better now that you actually answered your phone.” The sulk is clear in her tone.
“Come on, you know how crazy I get at work,” I say, walking to one of the conference rooms.
“I have a favor, like a huge ass one, like aBre has not been a very good friend to Anna latelykind of favor.”
Savanna and I got closer when she moved to town with Denton. They eventually did get that house he should have got in the first place, and the Bre and Denton phase is long forgotten. I suppose six years is long enough to grow up.
We actually hang out together, and it’s not awkward. Nobody knows about our brief screw up as I like to think of it as, and nobody needs to know. It is as over as I am with this Record company and them passing my songs off to the wrong singers.
“Okay, talk to me,” I say.
“I want to go clubbing, let my hair down, dance the night away, but I don’t want to do that with just Denton.”
“So you want Nate and I to tag along. You know those two hate each other.” I groan.
“That is a strong word. They just don’tlikeeach other very much.”
No, my darling friend, they hate each other, and I am the reason for that.
“So when were you thinking of going?”
“Tonight?” she giggles.
“Savanna. I have like a ton of work to do before I can leave, and God knows if Nate is up for it.”
“He is. I texted him. I might have told him that you said yes.” She sounds guilty, as she should.
“Argh! Fine.” I give in. I have a tendency of not being able to say no to Savanna.
“Okay, meet you guys at ours at nine p.m., and we’ll catch an Uber to Crave.”
“Not that place.” I let out a long, drawn-out sigh.
“It’s the hottest nightclub in town. Dress to impress. Love you.”
She cuts the call before I can respond.
“Baby, you home?” I call as I drop my keys on the kitchen counter.
Nate walks over with two glasses of red wine, and I moan in approval. He sets the drinks down and kisses me. “I missed you.”
“You did, did you? How much?”
“I’d show you, but I know you need that glass of wine, a hot bath, and maybe a nap before Savanna’s big night.”
“What is with her and clubbing suddenly? It’s like the second time she’s asked.” I take a sip of my wine.
“Mid-life crisis.” He says seriously, and I burst out in laughter.
“We’re like twenty-six.”
