“You always think we need tequila,” Amanda said to Trina, then laughed.
“Because life is better with tequila.”
“Not my life,” Rosa quipped.
Trina looked down at her, giving her a pointed stare. “If not for the round of tequila shooters that day after sociology class when we first met, would we even be friends right now?”
Lorraine remembered that day well. Trina had assured Rosa that tequila would help her forget whatever guy was causing her so much emotional grief. Rosa had downed the tequila shot and promptly gagged. They’d all laughed about it, but through the laughter, Rosa realized she was no longer thinking about the guy who’d broken her heart. So tequila shooters were always on the menu whenever there was some sort of man drama among the group.
“All right,” Rosa agreed. “But one tequila shooter is my limit.”
“Oh, we already know that!” Amanda said as Trina started off toward the bar. “Ah, this is just like old times. A round of shooters will kick this celebration into high gear.” She faced Lorraine. “And you—no more tears!”
Lorraine nodded. Tonight was a celebration. That had been the plan, to go out with her friends. She certainly hadn’t wanted to mark the occasion at home alone.
“Okay,” Lorraine agreed. “No more tears. Not that I’m crying over Paul,” she added with a frown.
“Good!” Rosa exclaimed. “You’re rid of that jerk who made your life a living hell. You should be dancing on the table!”
Lorraine couldn’t help smiling. “That would go over well with this crowd, me jumping on the table and getting down.”
“I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get on the table and do it,” Amanda said. “If I were finally free of such a nasty jerk, I’d be dancing on the roof.”
“Ah, no.” Lorraine wasn’t about to make a spectacle of herself. Though she certainly did want to dance for joy. She was finally free of Paul. A marriage that never should have happened.
Rather, a marriage that she had entered into wholeheartedly, only to learn that her husband hadn’t given their union the same effort. Paul had never truly loved her, never supported her dreams and goals. Ending the marriage was the only thing to do.
Lorraine had expected him to be unhappy, but not for him to turn downright nasty during the divorce proceedings. He’d had an investigator look into her financial history, find out if she had secret bank accounts, or gifts from family she’d never told Paul about. The slimy investigator had learned that her mother had left her a bond. Nothing substantial, but Paul had nonetheless demanded half of it.
Thinking about Paul left a bitter taste in her mouth, and Lorraine sipped some water. Her divorce was final. Paul was officially out of her life. And tonight, she was wiping the slate clean fittingly. Taking back her single status with grand style. Rosa had even bought her a black veil—the opposite of the white one she’d worn on her wedding day. Not to mark this is as a somber occasion, but to mark it as a funeral for her past life. A life she could officially move on from.
“I’m sure this is an emotional day for you,” Rosa said. “Saying goodbye to the past can be hard, even if you know it’s the right thing.” She smiled softly. “I look forward to the day when you’re back to being your old self—the woman who was stress-free and happy until Paul dragged you down.”
Rosa was absolutely right. Lorraine hadn’t been the same person after just two years of marriage. She’d sunk into depression. Nothing had been good enough to please Paul. All her efforts to make her marriage work had been in vain. She had increasingly thrown herself into work, but even that was an emotional rollercoaster. As a palliative care nurse, she loved her patients, but losing them was always painful.
“Trina needs to hurry up with those shooters,” Amanda said.
Lorraine looked toward the section of the bar where Trina had ventured off to. Trina was lost somewhere in the crowd.
As Lorraine’s gaze wandered the other way, it stopped abruptly, landing on another pair of eyes. They were dark and intense and drew her in for a few glorious seconds. She stared, unable to turn away, while the man who owned those striking eyes stared back.
The air rushing out of her lungs, Lorraine felt an undeniable sizzle of heat.
She checked out the man staring back at her. Golden brown skin. Broad shoulders and seriously muscular biceps. Wow.
She glanced away, blushing.
“Who are you looking at?” Amanda asked, and shot a peek over her shoulder.
“Don’t!” Lorraine admonished, but she was too late.
“What am I missing?” Rosa asked.
“Oh, I see him,” Amanda said, her tone piquing with interest. “The guy behind me in the second booth. Wearing a pale blue shirt.”
“Oh!” Rosa’s eyes widening, she playfully swatted Lorraine’s arm. “Girl, you’re flirting?”
“Can’t I look at a man without you guys making a big deal about it?” Lorraine asked.
Trina appeared then, weaving through the crowd back toward the table. She was carrying a plate with the four shot glasses grouped closely together. Surrounding the glasses were four lime wedges. “One round of tequila shooters!” Trina announced. She placed the plate onto the table, then took her seat beside Amanda again. “Grab one, ladies.”
They each took a shot glass, but left the limes on the plate. Trina was the first to lick her hand and pour salt onto it. The rest of the ladies followed suit.
Rosa quickly raised her shot glass. “To Lorraine getting to know the hot guy in the blue shirt.”
Trina frowned. “Huh? What did I miss?”
“He’s at the table behind us,” Amanda explained.
“Don’t look—” Lorraine said, but Trina was already whipping her head around.
Lorraine glanced at the hottie again, saw him smile at her. Oh, God. He was paying attention to them. And now he knew that she and her friends were talking about him.
“I’m totally embarrassed,” Lorraine said. “He knows that I’m staring at him. Thanks to you guys.”
“To Lorraine’s fresh start,” Amanda said, raising the shooter and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“I’ll drink to that!” Rosa enthused.
There was no point in arguing with these women, who loved her unconditionally. So Lorraine downed her shooter along with her friends. The tequila burned its way down her throat. She quickly stuffed the lime in her mouth to kill the bite of the booze. As she and her friends did the same, Rosa feigned a gagging sound. They all started laughing. Yeah, this was just like old times.
“Okay, that’s my one and only tequila shot for the night,” Rosa said. “No more.”
“As if we don’t know that,” Trina said. “Though I’m really curious to know what a two-tequila night would be like for you.”
“You’re not going to find out,” Rosa told her.
As her friends engaged in playful chatter, Lorraine glanced in the sexy stranger’s direction. Again, he was looking at her.
“If you’re going to keep flirting,” Rosa began, “you need to fix your makeup. It’s a mess from when you got teary a few minutes ago.”
“What?” Lorraine gasped, horrified.
Rosa got to her feet and reached for Lorraine’s hand. “Let’s go to the restroom.”
Lorraine didn’t protest. Not that she was interested in the man she’d noticed, but flirting was not sexy with raccoon eyes.
She grabbed her purse from the table and started for the restroom with Rosa, who was a little unsteady on her feet. Lorraine’s head was definitely lighter. The margarita was already having an effect on her. She wasn’t about to get over-the-top drunk, but being tipsy and feeling good was exactly what she wanted. Especially since she hadn’t hung out with her friends like this in such a long time. Paul hadn’t expressly forbidden it, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t like her friends. So they all needed tonight, and there was no shame in letting loose. They were all taking taxis home, so no need to worry about any of them driving while drunk.
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