“Make it a double,” I told the bartender. “And easy on the soda.”
“You’re twenty-one, right?” He looked warily at my space buns before glancing at my chest.
“I’m twenty-eight,” I snapped. “Do you want to see my ID?”
“All good.” He grabbed a glass and plunked some ice in it. “Just checking.”
I took the drink back to my table and sucked down the whole thing in a matter of minutes. So I was a little buzzed by the time Mimi came around again, this time followed by a couple of her old friends from the cheerleading squad. Carrie was brunette and Ella was strawberry blond, but both wore their hair styled exactly like Mimi’s.
I smiled at them and said hello, pleased when they added some of my appetizers to their plates.
“Mmm, crostini,” said Carrie. She was wearing a black dress very similar to Mimi’s, but one-shouldered. “What’s on this?”
“Goat cheese, dates, walnuts, fresh thyme, and a little honey,” I said, thrilled she hadn’t called them cheese toasts. “And those over there are watermelon, basil, and feta.”
“Oooh,” said Ella, who also wore a short, fitted dress in black. They looked like an army. Or a row of backup singers. “I’ll try that watermelon one for sure. And what are those?”
“Zucchini fritters. Everything is vegetarian, and all the produce is local,” I said with pride.
“This is so good,” said Carrie, licking her fingers after polishing off a goat cheese crostini. “Mimi, you should try this.”
“I don’t eat bread or dairy.” Mimi looked longingly at the appetizers on her friends’ plates. She put a hand on her tummy. “The bloat, you know?”
“Live a little.” Ella laughed. “One crostini isn’t going to bloat you.”
I thought for sure Mimi was going to protest, but she shocked me by reaching for a watermelon, basil, and feta crostini and shoving the entire thing in her mouth so fast, it was as if she was hoping no one would notice. Her eyes closed as she chewed and swallowed. “Wow. That is good.” She eyeballed the rest of them on the tray. “How many calories are in them?”
“I’m not sure exactly,” I said. “But the bread is sliced very thin, and compared to other cheeses, feta is very low in calories and—”
“Maybe just one more.” Mimi plucked another one from the tray and gobbled it up.
Carrie laughed. “Told you they were delicious.”
“They’re pretty good,” Mimi admitted. After stuffing a third and fourth crostini—goat cheese and date—and then several zucchini fritters into her mouth, Mimi picked up a business card. “The Veggie Vixen. But there’s nothing very vixenish about you, is there?”
I rattled the ice cubes in my glass and tipped it up again, hoping for a few more drops of vodka.
“Do you cater weddings, Felicity? Mimi is engaged,” Ella told me.
“I heard.” I made myself smile at Mimi. “And yes, I do. And I’d love to talk about your wedding. I have plenty of dishes without gluten or dairy.”
Mimi put the card back on the table. “Oh, Thornton would probably revolt if I planned anything vegetarian,” she said with a condescending laugh. “He’s such a man’s man. You know how those millionaires are, with their hunting cabins and big game safaris. Such carnivores.”
Her friends murmured their agreement, as if they were all engaged to carnivorous millionaires.
“But maybe some cute little things for one of my showers. I’m using Dearly Beloved to plan everything. Are you on that app?” Mimi set her wine glass down, and I watched in horror as she dug her phone from her purse. “I’ll make sure I’m following you.”
“Following me?” I squeaked.
“Yes. On Dearly Beloved.” She snapped her fingers twice. “Keep up.”
Suddenly there was nothing I wouldn’t have said to keep Mimi from looking at that shitty one-star review on Dearly Beloved.
“I’m engaged too,” I blurted.
Mimi looked up at me in surprise, fingers poised over the screen. “Are you?”
“Yes.”
“To who?”
“To a hot billionaire.”
Mimi’s jaw dropped. “You’re engaged to a hot billionaire?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Hutton French.” The name popped from my lips before I could think.
“Hutton French?” The trio echoed with identical intonation. They exchanged surprised glances.