Page 73 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

It didn’t matter that she had a college degree in business management and a postgraduate degree in finance. No, according to her father, she was just meant to become a trophy wife someday. That was all she was worth. If it were up to him, he would’ve arranged a convenient match for her long ago—a man with a wealthy background who could benefit him through a merger. He only remembered she had a brain when it suited his needs, like being his assistant.

Thankfully, she was too good at her job for him to marry her off. That was her only saving grace. Well, that, and the fact that Johnathan, would refuse to take over the company if their fathertried to sign Allison’s life away for the sake of business. He was the only one of her brothers set to inherit everything, and he’d rather die than let their father dictate her life like that.

For once, she could thank God for overprotective brothers.

A ping from her phone pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. She checked her messages, smiling when her best friend’s name popped up.

Amira

Hey girl how r u?

Allison chuckled at her friend’s texting grammar. Or lack thereof.

Allison

Hey! I’m just at work…

Amira

I hear u loud ‘n clear

Wanna meet 4 lunch?

Allison considered the idea. Shehadmissed Amira. Their last reunion had been months ago and far too short. They texted regularly, but it wasn’t the same. She could definitely use some girl time. Packing her measly bagel back into her drawer, she checked her father’s schedule to make sure she had the time, then quickly fired off a reply.

Allison

Meet you at Stacy’s in ten?

Amira

Read my mind ;)

Stacy’swas a coffee shop both Allison and Amira adored. It had everything a girl needed—great coffee, delicious pastries, and cats. Her heart always felt full whenever she stepped through its doors, seeing the kittens Stacy had adopted and placed in her bright, cheerful shop.

Stacy, a forty-something-year-old woman with a sweet tooth and a softer spot for cats, had turned the money from her divorce into the best coffee spot in central Seattle—in Allison’s humble opinion. Amira and she had discovered Stacy’s during a random walk downtown, drawn in by the sight of the kittens in the window, and it had been their go-to spot ever since.

It took Allison eight minutes to walk there—much faster than the thirty minutes it would’ve taken by car due to traffic. But the croissants made the slight pinch of her pumps worth it.

When she arrived, she knew Amira wouldn’t be far behind, but she was too impatient to wait outside. Allison headed straight for the counter, stopping multiple times to pet the gorgeous kittens along the way. She ordered a latté and a pain-au-chocolat, practically drooling at the thought of the deliciousness she would soon inhale.

Seems like my little princess isn’t the only one who’s hungry.

She had just settled into a cozy corner when Amira walked into the bustling shop, spotting her immediately and waving energetically despite being less than five feet away.

After placing her order, Amira slid into the seat across from Allison, shrugging off her beige faux fur coat—because nobody supports killing animals for fashion—and revealing a stylish outfit that was the norm for her. Dressed in a white off-the-shoulder sweater that beautifully contrasted with her dark skin and tan cigarette pants, she looked ready to steal anyone’s man without breaking a sweat.

But Allison knew better. Amira was too bright a person to darken someone else’s life.

“How’s my godchild doing?” Amira asked in her British accent, skipping any form of greeting.

Allison chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. Her best friend was nothing if not direct.

“No interest in the godchild’s carrier?” Allison teased.

“My interest right now is that little bean growing inside said carrier. We can talk aboutyoulater,” Amira replied, her tone serious, though the twinkle in her eyes said otherwise.

“Well, for your information, your goddaughter is—”

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