The sun was as bright as the champagne bubbles popping in the mimosas, and the sky no less radiant in its hue of blue. It was a morning on the knife edge of crisp and warm, the type of day where everyone regardless of age seemed just a bit younger, and if not hopeful, at least more keen to see what fate had in store for them.
For her part, Brisa felt like the embodiment of the day itself. Her skin was bronze, the chestnut of her hair shimmered with depth, and all of her girlfriends at the brunch table agreed that her eyes matched the sky just so. Her confidence was high and carefree, and she had the whimsical thought that she was some kind of Spring nymph made of flowers, sun, sex, and Prosecco. The patio around Brisa radiated that feeling back to her like a mirror as the energy of the patrons flowed with booze and bespoke waffle syrup, and she found herself sitting up a bit taller in her high ponytail, white bodysuit top, and boyfriend-cut jeans.
Speaking of boyfriends,
she thought.
He's the only thing that would make this morning better.
"You're daydreaming about Hunter, aren't you?"
Brisa looked to Chara, her best friend and resident mind-reader. She smiled in response, her cheeks coloring. "I can't help it. He's just my person."
Chara reached out and gave Brisa's hand a squeeze. "You're adorably nauseating, you know that? What's your man up to anyway?"
"Oh, just off being a hero again," Brisa said. "His shift at the fire department went long this morning. He texted that he was on his way to a fire right before he was supposed to go off-duty, so who knows when he'll be home."
Shaking her head, Chara gave Brisa a look of mock sympathy. "You poor thing. I know you're barely hanging in there with your hot firefighter boyfriend away for a day at a time."
Brisa rolled her eyes, hiding a smile behind a champagne flute as she sipped at her mimosa. Chara's attention was taken by another of the girls at their table, and Brisa used the opportunity to pull out her phone. She took a moment to admire the picture on her lock screen: Hunter kissing her cheek in a closeup selfie, his right hand cupping at her throat gently, but wholly possessive. The image was sweet, but the subtle dominance in her boyfriend's aura made Brisa breathe out an exhalation of haughty annoyance. Fuck she missed Daddy.
Hunter: Where are you, sweet girl?
The text notification popped onto Brisa's screen as if by magic; her desire conjuring his attention like a witch's spell. Her fingers flew across the screen, typing a reply.
Brisa: I'm at brunch with the girls. We're at that new place on 45th called The Nine Lives. Where are you, Sir? I've missed you sooooo much.
Her eyes intent on the screen, she waited for Hunter's response. The time in the corner of the phone mocked Brisa as it ticked away a minute, then two, and three. She frowned, her full lips pouting.
Brisa: Daddy?
Silence followed, the messages app remaining cruelly unchanged minute after minute. Brisa clacked her phone down beside her plate, screen down. Chara arched an eyebrow at her as Brisa forked a piece of omelette into her mouth.
"You good, girl?"
Brisa spoke through her food, uncharacteristically ill-mannered in the throughs of her frustration. "Hunter has both the sexiest and the most infuriating job in existence."
"Look at me," Brisa continued, gesturing to her figure with the empty fork. "I look so fuckable right now, and it's all just wasted on you bitches." Brisa swallowed the rest of her bite before giving Chara a smile, "No offense, babe."
"None taken," Chara laughed.
It was at that moment that Brisa's phone dinged. Chara forgotten, the fork in Brisa's hand clattered onto the plate as she pulled the device to her face, unlocking the screen.
