Indina paid for forty minutes on the parking meter before tucking the receipt on her dashboard and crossing Gravier Street. She’d been smart enough to call Mackenna Arnold before assuming her old college roommate was in her office at City Hall. It was a good thing she did. Today was Mack’s day to hold office hours at the Arts Council of New Orleans, where she volunteered as a pro bono attorney for struggling artists, musicians and writers in need of legal help.
Indina entered the lobby of The Exchange Centre, the downtown high-rise that housed the Arts Council, and took the elevator to the eighth floor. She greeted Elizabeth, the receptionist, as she entered the office suite and pointed toward the hallway.
“Is she free?” Indina asked.
The receptionist looked at her computer. “For the next hour. She has a late appointment coming in at six.”
“Thanks, Liz.” Indina made her way to the small office at the end of the hallway. The various attorneys who volunteered at the Arts Council all shared it, coming in on various days, one to two times a week.
Knocking softly, she pushed the door open to find Mack on the phone. Her friend held up a finger as she continued her conversation.
“A client just walked through the door. We’ll have to continue this at a later date,” Mack said to whoever was on the other end of the call. She jammed her finger at the touchscreen and set the cell phone on the desk.
“Thank God you came in,” Mack said, slouching forward until her forehead hit the stack of files that sat in front of her.
“Do I even want to know?” Indina asked.
“No, you don’t,” came her friend’s muffled voice. Mack raised her head and pushed back from the desk, walking over to Indina and enveloping her in a hug. “You’re looking fabulous as always. Let me just start by saying that I am so sorry I can’t go on this cruise with you. I swear if I didn’t have a dozen things to do this weekend I would be there. I need a vacation more than I need air.”
“I know you do,” Indina said. “That’s why you were the first person I asked. We’ll have to plan a girls’ weekend as soon as you can get some time off.”
Mack rolled her eyes. “As if that’s going to happen anytime soon.”
“You have to slow down, Mack. I don’t have to remind you how quickly burnout happens.”
“I know, I know,” her friend said. “Eventually. Oh, and I have to apologize for cancelling dinner the other night. Again. There was an emergency meeting in the 7th Ward over the school voucher program.”
Indina waved that off. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. You think I don’t know how busy your life is these days? Between practicing law, teaching and the city council, I don’t know where you find the time to eat or sleep.”
“I don’t get much of either, but I’m trying to do better. I promise not to cancel next time.”
“It’s all good,” Indina said. “I had some pho and spring rolls delivered from that new Vietnamese place down the street and ate it in my pajamas while watching TV. It’s my own version of Netflix and chill.”
Mack held up a hand. “Please don’t use that phrase. I thought it meant actually chilling out and watching TV, so I invited the group of law students we have working here over to my place to celebrate after finishing a big case.”
“You didn’t,” Indina said.
“Yes, I did. Sent a group text asking them all to come Netflix and chill. Next thing I know, it’s all over Snap Chat that there’s an orgy going down at Councilwoman Arnold’s house.”
Indina burst out laughing. “That’s what happens when you have no teenagers in your life to keep you posted on the latest slang.”
“Next time you have Liliana over, call me. I’ll pay her to give me lessons. I’d rather not have horny law students showing up at my place with pockets full of condoms.” Mack settled her backside against the desk. “Although, if I didn’t think it would get blasted all over social media, I would have slept with one of them. It would be nice to finally have an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced.”
“Now that would be a reason to celebrate,” Indina said, taking a seat on one of the mismatched chairs in the cramped office.
“Speaking of celebrations, please tell me that one’s in order after today’s presentation?” Mack asked.
Being on the City Council, Indina and Mackenna had set boundaries once Indina began working on city contracts. Neither of them wanted people thinking that Mack had shown any kind of favoritism just because they were sorority sisters with a friendship that had lasted over twenty years. But Indina knew her friend was always in her corner.
“We won’t know for certain until all bids are in, but we kicked ass today. They were riveted.”
Mack held up a hand for a high-five. “Gimme some.”
Indina slapped her palm then settled back in the chair and folded her hands over her stomach.
“Now, why don’t you tell me what that call was all about,” she said, gesturing to the phone.
Mack rolled her eyes as she pushed away from the desk and went back around it, sitting in the worn leather desk chair. “My ex-husband being a pain in my ass yet again,” she answered.
“Seriously? The divorce has been final for nearly a year. Why is he still being difficult?”
“Because he lives to be difficult,” Mack said. “He’s still pissed that I got his precious boat in the divorce settlement and that it’s just sitting there unused. I told him that I’d sell it to him, but I’m not giving him shit.”
“If it was anyone but Carter I’d say just give him the boat to get him out of your hair, but he’d just find some other reason to hound you.”
“He’s not getting the boat. Other than
