Page 42 of February

“Oh, I decided against it.”

“But how will we know you’re the business exec from the big city here to save the day?” Bridgette joked.

“How will I ever know that you’re actually not a pain in the ass when you keep making comments like that?” she replied.

Bridgette laughed and said, “Touché.”

“I’d like to talk to you more if you’ll let me. You can still make fun of me if you want, and I’ll even order you coffee from a local place.”

“Willyoustill get your fancy coffee?” Bridgette asked.

“I think I can skip it just this once, but I do have a gold card there, so I get great deals. Can you blame me?”

“You probably already own at least half of New York, and you’re searching for deals?”

“How do you think Ikeepmy half of New York? Besides, if I didn’t search for deals, I’d never be able to buyallof it.”

Bridgette laughed again, and Monica wondered if maybe, just maybe, they were making progress here.

“Just let me finish this one, okay?” Bridgette said. “Can I meet you in the conference room?”

“Give me, like, thirty.”

“I finally agree to help, and you’re putting me off,” Bridgette replied, but playfully.

“I’m going to walk down the street to that damn local coffee place that doesn’t deliver and get us something. Well, get something for the whole office. Actually, I don’t think I could carry all that.”

“Too bad you left your fancy assistant in New York.”

“Finish that and come with me. I’ll take coffee orders,” Monica said with a laugh.

“Bossy already. You don’t even own the company yet,” Bridgette teased.

Thirty minutes later, they walked down the street, with Bridgette pointing out a few of the buildings as they walked past them and telling Monica about how they’d opened the office in New Orleans. They joined the line with the order for everyone in the office in Monica’s hand, and Bridgette did the actual ordering since it appeared she knew the woman behind the counter, probably because she was a regular.

“Uh… I can’t. But maybe another time,” Bridgette said, and Monica realized she hadn’t been paying much attention to their conversation.

“You say that every time,” the woman replied.

“I know,” Bridgette said as she handed over her credit card.

“No, this is on me, remember?” Monica interjected, already with a card in hand, passing it to the woman behind the counter.

The woman took it with a look of confusion and, dare Monica say it, territorial competition in her eyes.

“Thanks.” The barista swiped it. “Bridge, we’ll have that panini you like for the lunch special tomorrow. Stop back in?” She handed the card back to Monica.

“What’s the special?” Monica asked, slipping the card back into her wallet.

“It’s a panini,” the woman said as if Monica was an idiot.

“No, I meant, what’sinthe panini?”

“Nothing fancy,” Bridgette said. “You’d hate it.” She winked at Monica.

Monica gave her a playful glare, and Bridgette seemed to realize something in that moment. Her face went serious, and she looked down at her shoes.

“What?” Monica asked.

---