Page 47 of South of The Skyway

“Makes your eyes pop,” I agreed.

“Hair up or down?”

“Down,” the three of us answered at once, swapping laughs like currency. I suppose they were these days. We all worked our asses off in our respective fields, so these stolen moments were farther and fewer between. Twice in a month was the best it could get, and only upon Noel’s insistence that we all splurge on some clothes and hit up happy-hour in celebration of Vallie’s promotion.

Half an hour later, all with at least a few winners in branded totes, we headed into the city to find food. The obnoxious traffic noise, chattering, and the never-ending herd of humans slammed through my senses.

“You hear from Rhyett?” Noel asked, linking our arms as Josie took the lead, swinging her bag happily as she looked around at the chaos.

“We talked a few nights ago.”

“That hottie from Three Leaf?” Vallie leaned forward to lock eyes. When I nodded, she tossed her braids over a shoulder and indignantly added, “And you’re just bringing that upbecause?”

“It’s your night, Val.”

“Yes, and as my nether regions are drier than a fast-food biscuit, I’d like to hear about yours.”

Our round of laughter was loud enough to draw several sets of eyes, one woman smiling as a handsome twenty-something guy raised his brows.

“Nothing else has happened,” I insisted when we caught our breath.

“But…?” Josie hedged as she reached for the front door to a little wine bar with killer hors d’oeuvres. When I didn’t immediately supply a story, she rolled her eyes, demanding, “What was said the other night?”

“We both enjoy each other—”

“How could you not? We all saw the man,” Noel interjected as we stepped into the lobby.

“But we know the distance is a hurdle. And I don’t have the time to dedicate to dating right now.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Josie said with a scowl. Genevieve, a curvy bombshell with onyx skin and a halo of natural curls, smiled from the back of the restaurant, waving off the hostess as she made her way to the front. She’d started as a busser fresh out of high school, working her way up the ranks until they made her a manager. We’d been regulars since before her time, so she always made sure to get us the best tables.

“It means my plate is too full with the bookstore and finding somewhere to expand. We didn’t get the shop across the street, so I need to find a new location, and I’d like to host more author events. Evening, Gen.”

“Evening, Brexley!” Genevieve pulled me in for a hug before moving down the line, greeting everyone by name before she set us up in a back booth away from the racket and promised our favorite server would be by soon.

“Well,” Vallie sighed. “That’s bullshit.”

“What?” I laughed, hoping we’d moved to a new topic.

“You’re making excuses. You’re here with us; you have the time.”

“Are you telling me to cut out girls' night so I can fool around with a guy a decade older than us?”

“No, I’m saying you’d find the time if you decided to. Work isn’t everything, Brex.”

“Ten years isn’t even that big of a gap,” Noel added.

“Of course not, although like tonight, for example—I have to go wrap up after we’re done here. Anything else I add to my plate takes away from something already on it. I’ve never even found the time to write my book, even though I’ve always wanted to.”

“Hire help,” Josie chirped, placing her napkin on her lap.

“We have help.”

“I mean…” Noel bit her lip. “We have the budget to outsource some stuff, Brex. Social media, blogging, running ads. All things you don’t technically have to do.”

“Hiring someone means I’d have to train them.”

“So?” Vallie said, smiling as one of the new servers brought by our regular drinks—courtesy of Gen, no doubt. “It’ll pay off in the long run.”

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