15
NADIA
Desiree’s nails click against the screen of my laptop when she pushes it closed. I barely have time to move my fingers off the keyboard before it slams shut.
“Des! I was in the middle of sending an email.”
“It’s Friday evening, Nadia. You’ve officially made it through your first week of work, which means you should be getting dressed so we can go out to celebrate instead of sending a stupid email.”
“It’s not a stupid email.” I grumble, opening the laptop back up to make sure she didn’t crack my screen when she slammed it down.
“Close the computer, Hendrix!” She orders, marching over to her bookshelf to turn on the speaker. In seconds, ass shaking music fills the room, and Desiree’s hands are in the air. She’s topless with a mixed drink that’s mostly tequila in hand. “We’re getting fucked up tonight!”
“I’m happy to get fucked up with you AFTER I send this email.”
Technically, this could probably wait until Monday morning, but I don’t like leaving loose ends lingering over the weekend, especially when I’ve had such a productive week. After my meeting with Sebastian about new marketing efforts, I hit the ground running, meeting with Elle to hash out the finer details of the wine tasting. She had a notebook full of dishes she’d been dying to try, so we went through her culinary wish list and built a menu we were both excited about.
Based on the ingredients Elle decided to highlight and the flavor profile she wanted to create, I recommended several wines I thought would make them shine. Elle loved my recommendations and suggested that I reach out to Ruthie, Sebastian’s go to wine contact, to source them. Ruthie, however, is a hard woman to get into contact with. Regina told me she prefers emails, and since I want to get the ball rolling sooner rather than later, I’m using what’s left of my Friday to reach out in hopes that we’ll have a meeting on the books by Monday morning.
“Well hurry up and send it,” Desiree demands, shaking her breasts in my face. Her nipples graze my cheek, and I swat her away, not the least bit bothered by her nakedness. At this point, there’s no such thing as a private part between me and Desiree. I’ve seen her face down, ass up, and tits out more times than I can count, and somehow, the transparency has made us closer. She’s the first person I’ve called a friend since Bianca. I find myself thinking of her a lot lately, mostly when I’m with Desiree like this, laughing and talking and having fun. I think about how Bianca and I never really got to have what me and Desiree do. We were never free together because Beau was always there, lingering, waiting for the chance to steal any bit of joy from me. He hated how close we were, and I still think our friendship is the only reason he started sleeping with her.
He used their relationship to create a void between us, and it wasn’t long before he had poisoned Bianca against me, convincing her that I was the reason she wasn’t getting the clients she wanted when really it was him sending me out to work even though I didn’t want to. The day I left for the Florida job that granted me my freedom, we got into it. Bianca got in my face, calling me selfish for stealing the job from her when I knew she needed the money to help take care of her sick mom. I just sat there and took it, unable to defend myself, to explain that the money the client paid would never touch my hands.
Despite the way we left things, I still miss Bianca. I still regret that we will never get to know each other outside of the cloud of toxicity that lives around Beau.
I hit send on the email to Ruthie and close my laptop, signaling the true end of my work week. It feels good to have my first five days behind me and even better to have my own money to contribute to the celebration Desiree insisted we have tonight.
“Finally!” She says, bouncing on her tip toes and making the alcohol in her cup slosh over the side and onto her hand. “Put the computer and all your work shit in the guest room and grab a glass, you’re already two drinks behind.”
“How have you already had two drinks?”
“Because you took forever to send that email.”
I flip her off on my way to the guest room where she insisted I sleep tonight. This isn’t my first time staying the night at her apartment, but I feel like it is my first time really looking at it. Seeing it through the eyes of someone with money and options as opposed to someone pinching pennies and barely getting by. Now that I have a salary and a healthy bank account, I’m eager to get the hell out of the motel, but I don’t know where to start my search for new digs.
“Do you know if there are any units available for rent in your building?” I ask Desiree, completely un-surprised that she’s followed me from the living room.
She plops down on the bed next to the bags I brought over. Among them is a shopping bag containing a dress from a high end boutique I stopped by after work. I bought several pieces, including a slinky, backless number to wear out tonight that made me grateful for the outlandish clothing allowance that hit my bank account this morning.
“Why? You trying to be my neighbor?”
“Maybe. Will you check with the leasing office to see?”
“I could do that,” she says, shifting my brand new leather duffel bag to the other side of the bed. “Or, you could just move in with me.”
“As much as I appreciate that offer, I’m going to have to pass.”
She shrugs. “Suit yourself. I don’t want a roommate anyway. Then I’d have to stop walking around naked.”
“You’re literally sitting on the bed with your tits out, Des.”
“Yeah, but I have on shorts.”
I shove my laptop into the work bag that matches my new duffel and laugh. “Right. My mistake. I forgot all about the booty shorts that barely cover your ass.”
Desiree taps her temple. “Key details, gotta remember the key details.”
I sit down on the foot of the bed and hold my hand out for her drink. She gives it up without argument, and I take a sip, cringing when I realize that it’s just tequila tinted with juice. “What time are Carmen and the rest of the girls getting here?”