Page 23 of February

It had been a very long day, and she’d managed to avoid Bridgette for much of it. They’d bumped into one another once when Monica had been going into the bathroom and Bridgette had been leaving. Bridgette, of course, had made a grand gesture of holding the door open for Monica, which had been annoying, but Monica had decided to let it go given what Bridgette and her family were going through. So, was it okay, putting her in the same car with Bridgette, who clearly had a problem with her? Yes, clearly.

“Yes. Is that all right?” Margery asked her.

“Of course,” she lied.

When they packed up their things, the three of them met Bridgette in the bullpen and walked out the suite door, with Bridgette locking up after them. Her parents then turned right at the sidewalk, leaving them alone.

“I’m this way,” Bridgette said as she nodded to the left.

“Sure. Okay.”

“So, you didn’t bring your car today? I thought you’d be taking it to the restaurant.”

“No,” Monica said, hearing Bridgette’s judgmental tone in the question. “I ordered the car before I knew how close the hotel was to the office.”

“For the way back to the hotel, too?” Bridgette mocked. “This is me. It’s no limo, but hopefully, it works.”

“It was a town car, not a limo. And yes, my assistant ordered it to pick me up and take me back. I forgot to cancel it before it arrived.”

“Your assistant?”

‘Shit…’Monica thought. She’d set herself up for that. She waited for Bridgette to unlock the car and quickly climbed inside, holding her bag to her chest.

“You can put that in the back seat,” Bridgette said when she got inside. “Or, I can put it in the trunk.”

“I’ll bring it in with me.”

“Afraid someone’s going to steal it?”

“Yes. And before you say anything, I’m from New York. It has nothing to do with New Orleans. I assume people will steal everything at home, too.”

Bridgette pulled the car out into traffic, and they drove in awkward silence for a few minutes before she pulled into a parking lot and found a space for the car.

“This place is a local favorite. It’s barbeque, and my parents love it. They know the owners. So, please don’t be all pretentious about paper napkins in there or something.”

“Paper–” she stopped herself. “I’m not pretentious.”

“Sure, you’re not.”

Bridgette got out of the car, and Monica followed her inside, carrying her briefcase with her as she walked quickly to catch up.

“There they are,” Dale said when they walked in.

They were sat in a booth, with Bridgette sitting next to her, of course, because her parents took the other side, and when Monica saw the napkin holder on the table, she rolled her eyes because she couldn’t care less about paper napkins.

“So, how are you enjoying New Orleans so far?” Margery asked once they each had a sweet tea in front of them.

Monica had ordered it because they’d all ordered one, and she’d wanted to fit in and not ask for an unsweetened tea with lemonandan iced water with lemon as well.

“Oh, I love it. It’s only been a day, but I really like it.”

“Where have you been so far?” Dale asked.

“Mainly, my hotel, but it’s got a beautiful view of the river from my suite, and they have a courtyard garden and great room service.”

Bridgette laughed.

“What?” Monica asked as she turned to her.

---