Page 78 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

SUCHI

The ladies are having drinks and appetizers at a bar in downtown LA. Suchi has just finished telling them about her impromptu date with Kofi last night. He texted her this morning and told her he enjoyed meeting her, and that while he had a busy day scheduled, he wanted her to know he plans to see her again and would hit her up later tonight.

“I feel like I can write a book about this guy,” Bridget jokes and sips her appletini.

“What? I didn’t tell y’all that much.”

“Suchi, babe. You basically told us this man’s whole life story,” Lyric teases.

“I guess, but it was magical. It was like we were magnets, immediately bonded to each other,” Suchi says with a dreamy look in her eyes.

Aimee sips her mai tai. “So, when are you seeing him again?”

“Not sure. He’s going to get back to me tonight. He told me he has back-to-back clients today, and he’s interviewing for a new tattoo artist.”

“Maybe you can get a free tattoo,” Aimee jokes.

“Um, I don’t think so. You all know how I feel about needles.” Suchi shakes her head.

Bridget bursts out laughing. “Remember when we all gave blood in college?”

Lyric and Aimee join in the laughing, but Suchi is a lot less amused. She fainted when they each gave blood. They were broke, needed money and wanted a free cookie.

“Speaking of getting tattoos, let’s hold off on saying anything around my chirren,” Bridget says.

The ladies laugh at her pronunciation ofchildren.

Bridget continues, “Those two knuckle heads will each ask for a tattoo.”

“Especially LJ.”

“He’s still tripping over this whole car agreement. You know that goofy boy asked if he could get a corvette?” Bridget bites into a potsticker.

“Okay, baby boy is tripping hard.” Lyric laughs.

“Too hard.” Bridget shakes her head.

“Tell him he’s getting a sensible sedan.” Suchi eats a meatball.

“Exactly! Four doors, airbags, spacious leg room, ’cause you know that kid is tall,” Bridget jokes.

They all laugh.

Bridget continues, “If he wants a corvette, he needs to make some corvette money. Ain’t even got a job and making requests.” She sips her drink.

“We can’t tell Ranson. His ass will buy him one.” Lyric eats a lettuce wrap.

“Patrick’s talking about buying Ms. Courtney a Range Rover when she turns sixteen,” Aimee tells them.

“Why?” Bridget asks.

“Because she asked for one.” Aimee shrugs.

“I wish my dad spoiled me like Patrick does his little Courtney bean,” Lyric says.

“Your dad does spoil you.” Aimee playfully rolls her eyes.

“Not that much,” Lyric protests.