Page 159 of The Price of Scandal

“Let’s go get a drink,” Jane said, opening the driver’s door.

“I smell charred flesh,” Emily said.

“Huh. Imagine that,” Jane mused, putting the SUV in gear.

“Here,” I said, digging in my pocket. “I got you something.” I pulled out Trey’s watch and handed it to Emily.

Jane snorted.

51

Emily

“To Emily Stanton, badass,” Cam said, holding a Bloody Mary aloft.

“Unemployed badass,” I corrected.

“To Emily Stanton, unemployed badass,” the rest of the table chorused.

My circle—Cam, Luna, Daisy, Jane, and Derek—raised their glasses in the middle of Mordecai’s Bistro. We’d also invited Lona to join us as long as everything stayed off the record.

And since she was sitting on the biggest story of her career, she seemed happy to oblige.

“Wait a minute,” Daisy said. “Since Emily is no longer of the vagillionaire status, can we still be friends with her?”

“Girl, please,” Luna giggled. “Give this woman five minutes, and she’ll have twelve patents, four drug trials, and another billion-dollar company.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Daisy crowed.

“Honey, you sure know how to rock a scandal,” Lady Raquel in a pink sequined romper said, leaning in to air-kiss my cheeks. “Proud of you.”

“Thanks, Lady Raquel. I’m feeling pretty proud of myself, too.”

“All right, kids, let’s take some orders. Who wants something to soak up the alcohol?”

My phone buzzed on the table.

Bethenny: Do you and Derek have dinner plans? Ed and I would love if you came over. We can take the boat out.

I showed Derek the message, and he grinned. “No offense, but I like your father’s ex-wife significantly more than his current one.”

I laughed and, for the first time in my life, didn’t feel like a traitor when I agreed.

Me: That sounds perfect. We’ll bring the wine.

On reflex, I checked my email and found my inbox was disabled. I blew out a breath. I wouldn’t start every single day of my life with the goal of processing the first one hundred emails. I wouldn’t be sitting in board meetings or reviewing sales numbers, okaying marketing campaigns.

Another text message came in.

Esther: Been thinking. If we can ID these proteins that signify damage, why couldn’t we create a synthetic one designed to fix the muscle damage?

I bit my lip to stop the grin. A new challenge. A new direction. A new family.

“So let me tell you guys about getting mugged,” Cam said.

“What did you just say?” Luna asked, bringing my attention back to the table.

“Did you say mugged or muffed?” Daisy interjected.